I don’t care how much weird shit is on it, AO3 is the most wholesome site on the internet. It’s run by people who love fanfic and I have spent countless hours reading fics there that brought me great joy. Love AO3 always.
Dani Clayton + the look of guilt when she realises that she doesn’t love Eddie whilst he is in the middle of expressing his undying love to her at their engagement dinner
Summary: The Callander siblings - Mac, Davey, & Gwen - relentlessly pursue building a better future whilst continuously confronting their past.
(speacial thanks to @shethenightwolf for being an amazing friend and helping me gain the courage to finally post this ♡)
Chapter I: Degenerates
16 August 1896
Life in America had been far from idyllic for the Callander’s. Not that life back in their homeland, the Outer Hebrides, had been any better. Exiled from their crofting community by their chieftain turned landlord, the Callander’s left in a desperate haste to the Americas, for a chance at a better life.
However, it wasn’t long before their father fell back into the unrelenting and everlasting grip of iniquity; paving his way towards riches with ill-gotten gains. A strong hold on his better senses, he convinced his sons that they had no other choice but to act along side him. After a job gone awry, the law began chasing them hard and they had nowhere to go and so, they fled west of the Mississippi.
This time, they had been fortunate enough to settle near the Red River, grassy plains and rolling hills as vacant as far as the eye could see. As more migrants came to America by the thousands, they soon found themselves beginning to prosper along side the ranching community blooming itself to life around them.
The eldest sons, Cailean and Cináed, had left the nest soon after, quickly wanting to make good on the second chance they had at a decent and honest life. Cailean made his way to California for his new occupation as a muleteer, as well as a husband and a father. Cináed set out to become deputized, desperate to keep the wolves away at their father’s untimely demise.
They had managed to keep their chins above water until tragedy struck once again; Cináed was dead, presumably gunned down by an outlaw far out West. With the young and newly appointed sheriff gone, this left his brothers, Malcolm and David, to pick up the slack.
However, the pair were in the thick of debauchery themselves; thieving, gambling, whoring, and drinking just as well as their late father. But their family values ran deep despite their vices and they, reluctantly, agreed to follow in their late brother’s footsteps. For now, and if only to find his killer and enact the proper justice the law wouldn’t give.
They found themselves up north, in a once bustling mining town at the Colorado-Oklahoma border. It was sizeable, but not bigger than any town they had resided in America thus far. However, the place had unfortunately been taken by cholera not months after their arrival. In its hay-day, it matched the pair’s canter and they longed missed the boisterous chatter of the once overpopulated streets and cathouses. Mostly vacant, the place is now eldritch as its buildings loomed and echoed the sputtering coughs of its inhabitants.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Davey, there’s better ways ‘a makin’ money than this bullshit,”
“Well, y’know ole Sheriff Kier already ain’t takin’ too kindly to us,” He blows out a puff of smoke, sitting back against the wood paneled interior with a creak of the chair beneath him. “Reckon runnin’ off again wouldn’t be doin’ us anymore favors. And I doubt Cinàed would tell the bastard a thing ‘bout us if he weren’t trustworthy.”
“You dinna think I know that?” Mac scoffs, slicking back his dark blond locks as he shakes his head. That much was true. Robert Kier quickly deputized the younger siblings of his deceased partner, in hopes that them sharing the same blood meant they shared the same work ethic, as well. But the pair failed to keep up appearances and by then, Robert found himself between a rock and a hard place, unable to find replacements for the rowdy, young men. And the brothers were all the more relieved to be able to hide in plain sight.
“But we gotta figure out somethin’...” Mac mutters to himself as he stares absentmindedly out the window. A mounted figure catches the corner of his eye and he glances, dark brows furrowing as he sees the unmistakable large and imposing figure that was Robert Kier, atop his long-trusted Ardennes. A monster amongst men.
“...Figure out somethin’ before it’s too late,” He finishes the thought more audibly, quickly leaving the six-cell jail, meeting the man outside as his dust trail continues to billow in the still but cool, summer air.
“Sheriff! How ya keepin’?” Mac greets him with an upward nod, resting his forearm against the porch’s metal pillar.
“How do ya think?” He growls, passing Davey with a brush of their shoulders, taking a seat just outside the door. His legs outstretch in front of him with a clink of his spurs as he lays his head back against the building.
“This town,” He sighs, sitting up as he adjusts his white cattlemen hat, revealing smooth dark brown hair beneath it. “Ain’t much of a town no more. Best we clear outta here before... well, y’know.”
“Right, well, where we goin’?”
“I won’t be goin’ just yet,” He grabs a cigarette carton from within his breast-pocket, packing it against his palm before retrieving three smokes.
“Needa tie up some loose ends but,” Bringing one to rest between his lips, he passes two to the brothers. Striking a match against the sole of his boot, he lights it.
He takes in a drag, holding it in, letting smoke flow out his nostrils as he speaks. “You boys are goin’ back near more Indian territory. Pawhuska, in Osage county, Kenny said that’s near where y’all’s kin was squattin’, right?”
“Cinàed, aye,” Davey corrects, earning him a steely glare from his superior.
“Right... Well, they’s needin’ help at some of those reservations down there.
The brothers share a look that Robert doesn’t notice. “How long you intend on ‘tyin’ up’ your loose ends’, anyway?”
“Why’s it matter?” He scoffs, meeting his harshening gaze. “Two of ya to do the work of one dead man. What’s with that, anyway?” Matching Davey’s patronizing tone, he stands, tossing the cigarette towards the street, squaring up with him.
“I’ll be awhile, so if ya need anymore help, get that younger brother of yours deputized. I don’t care how ya get it done, just make sure that it gets done, got it?” He spits with a scowl before walking inside, slamming the door closed behind him.
“Well,” Mac clasps a hand on Davey’s shoulder, snapping him out of his momentary bloodlust. “Seems we’re makin’ it to to the weddin’ after all,”
I’m so happy to see your work finally being posted! It’s a joy to read, especially because it has Callander’s siblings in it! You know I can’t wait to read more!❤️❤️
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader x John Marston
Warnings: violence!!!
Summary: Even though you married the love of your life, there are still many obstacles coming right at you two.
A/N: Hey, guys. So, this is it, I guess… I won’t be talking much here, just one thing - I highly recommend listening to To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra, especially at the end. Alright, so… Let’s go, shall we? (I’m so sorry for updating it once more, it’s because technical issues.)
Reader’s POV
“It’s all gonna be over soon, Mrs Roberts,” agent Milton said as he pulled you both into the abandoned building in Van Horn.
“Oh and Mrs Morgan, we can finish what we started, right?” He turned towards you. “Your husband won’t help you now. From what I’ve heard he’s getting weaker with every passing day. Arthur Morgan is finally getting old, isn’t he?”
“You know nothing about my husband, agent Milton,” you hissed through clenched teeth, struggling with his grip on your wrists. He had tied up your wrists earlier, but apparently, it was not enough and brutality was something he enjoyed. “He is gonna blow your head off the moment he comes…”
“Stop wriggling!” One of his men yelled at Abigail as he was trying to tie her to the wooden chair and she did her best to make it hard for him.
“You’re all gonna regret this!” she shouted then burst into tears. “You’re all gonna—” she wanted to say something more, but a man that was trying to tie her up slapped her in the face.
“Shut up,” he stated, “stupid woman…”
“Where were we, Mrs Morgan?” Milton asked when the silence filled up the place. “Weren’t you saying something?”
“He’s gonna blow your head off the moment he comes here,” you repeated, loud and clear. “Your time has come to an end, agent, and this time there will be no mercy.”
Milton laughed and shook his head slowly. “You’re right. This time there will be no mercy.” He pushed you away hard, making you collapse on the floor. “This time I’m gonna shoot you right,” he said and pulled out his gun, pointing it in your face, “but, if you’re claiming your husband will come here, I’m gonna wait a little bit longer, so he enjoys the show, too.”
He kept pointing his gun at you, but you were not scared. Not until you realised it was not just about you this time. If he hurt you, he would also hurt the baby. Your baby. It was insane because a few hours earlier everything had been different. You were responsible for yourself and out of sudden, you had someone else to protect.
“You have nothing else to say, Mrs Morgan?”
“Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly.
“This is my job,” he responded. “To hunt down and eliminate people like you.”
“I don’t think it’s the main reason. I think you simply like watching people being scared of you, agent Milton, but you’re not scary. Not for me, at least.”
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader x John Marston
Warnings: violence!!!
Summary: Even though you married the love of your life, there are still many obstacles coming right at you two.
A/N: Hey, guys. So, this is it, I guess… I won’t be talking much here, just one thing - I highly recommend listening to To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra, especially at the end. Alright, so… Let’s go, shall we? (I’m so sorry for updating it once more, it’s because technical issues.)
Reader’s POV
“It’s all gonna be over soon, Mrs Roberts,” agent Milton said as he pulled you both into the abandoned building in Van Horn.
“Oh and Mrs Morgan, we can finish what we started, right?” He turned towards you. “Your husband won’t help you now. From what I’ve heard he’s getting weaker with every passing day. Arthur Morgan is finally getting old, isn’t he?”
“You know nothing about my husband, agent Milton,” you hissed through clenched teeth, struggling with his grip on your wrists. He had tied up your wrists earlier, but apparently, it was not enough and brutality was something he enjoyed. “He is gonna blow your head off the moment he comes…”
“Stop wriggling!” One of his men yelled at Abigail as he was trying to tie her to the wooden chair and she did her best to make it hard for him.
“You’re all gonna regret this!” she shouted then burst into tears. “You’re all gonna—” she wanted to say something more, but a man that was trying to tie her up slapped her in the face.
“Shut up,” he stated, “stupid woman…”
“Where were we, Mrs Morgan?” Milton asked when the silence filled up the place. “Weren’t you saying something?”
“He’s gonna blow your head off the moment he comes here,” you repeated, loud and clear. “Your time has come to an end, agent, and this time there will be no mercy.”
Milton laughed and shook his head slowly. “You’re right. This time there will be no mercy.” He pushed you away hard, making you collapse on the floor. “This time I’m gonna shoot you right,” he said and pulled out his gun, pointing it in your face, “but, if you’re claiming your husband will come here, I’m gonna wait a little bit longer, so he enjoys the show, too.”
He kept pointing his gun at you, but you were not scared. Not until you realised it was not just about you this time. If he hurt you, he would also hurt the baby. Your baby. It was insane because a few hours earlier everything had been different. You were responsible for yourself and out of sudden, you had someone else to protect.
“You have nothing else to say, Mrs Morgan?”
“Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly.
“This is my job,” he responded. “To hunt down and eliminate people like you.”
“I don’t think it’s the main reason. I think you simply like watching people being scared of you, agent Milton, but you’re not scary. Not for me, at least.”
can yall just like. be nice to each other. i PROMISE being vile and horrible isn’t worth it in the long run. like i promise being mean will not make you happier. being intentionally mean-spirited doesn’t make you cool and likeable.
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader x John Marston
Warnings: violence!!!
Summary: Even though you married the love of your life, there are still many obstacles coming right at you two.
A/N: Hey, guys. So, this is it, I guess... I won't be talking much here, just one thing - I highly recommend listening to To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra, especially at the end. Alright, so... Let's go, shall we? (I’m so sorry for updating it once more, it’s because technical issues.)
Reader’s POV
“It’s all gonna be over soon, Mrs Roberts,” agent Milton said as he pulled you both into the abandoned building in Van Horn.
“Oh and Mrs Morgan, we can finish what we started, right?” He turned towards you. “Your husband won’t help you now. From what I’ve heard he’s getting weaker with every passing day. Arthur Morgan is finally getting old, isn’t he?”
“You know nothing about my husband, agent Milton,” you hissed through clenched teeth, struggling with his grip on your wrists. He had tied up your wrists earlier, but apparently, it was not enough and brutality was something he enjoyed. “He is gonna blow your head off the moment he comes…”
“Stop wriggling!” One of his men yelled at Abigail as he was trying to tie her to the wooden chair and she did her best to make it hard for him.
“You’re all gonna regret this!” she shouted then burst into tears. “You’re all gonna—” she wanted to say something more, but a man that was trying to tie her up slapped her in the face.
“Shut up,” he stated, “stupid woman…”
“Where were we, Mrs Morgan?” Milton asked when the silence filled up the place. “Weren’t you saying something?”
“He’s gonna blow your head off the moment he comes here,” you repeated, loud and clear. “Your time has come to an end, agent, and this time there will be no mercy.”
Milton laughed and shook his head slowly. “You’re right. This time there will be no mercy.” He pushed you away hard, making you collapse on the floor. “This time I’m gonna shoot you right,” he said and pulled out his gun, pointing it in your face, “but, if you’re claiming your husband will come here, I’m gonna wait a little bit longer, so he enjoys the show, too.”
He kept pointing his gun at you, but you were not scared. Not until you realised it was not just about you this time. If he hurt you, he would also hurt the baby. Your baby. It was insane because a few hours earlier everything had been different. You were responsible for yourself and out of sudden, you had someone else to protect.
“You have nothing else to say, Mrs Morgan?”
“Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly.
“This is my job,” he responded. “To hunt down and eliminate people like you.”
“I don’t think it’s the main reason. I think you simply like watching people being scared of you, agent Milton, but you’re not scary. Not for me, at least.”
“Is that so? I think you should be scared because the second your husband comes through the doorstep… Things are gonna get nasty,” he stated.
“You’re pregnant?” Slipped out of Abigail’s mouth and it was rather a statement than an actual question.
You did not reply, but you did not have to. It was enough for Abigail to look at you and see your shiny eyes. You did not let the tears fall on your cheeks, though. You had to be strong and you could not let Milton scare you, but at the same time, you were wondering how he found out about your pregnancy.
“She is,” Milton replied to Abigail. “Was the baby daddy happy when you told him?” He turned back to you again.
“Arthur was thrilled,” you managed to say and with a corner of your eye, you saw Abigail breathing out slowly.
She must have been relieved this baby was not John’s, that was certain.
“You really want to hurt a pregnant woman?” Abigail asked confused. “What kind of a man are you—”
“The worst,” Milton told her and an ominous smile appeared on his face. He nodded at his friend and he slapped Abigail again, leaving a bright red mark on her left cheek. “Now quiet,” he commanded, focusing on you again. “I don’t want to hear another word from you, Miss Roberts.”
You looked at Abigail and at the man that has just finished tying her hands to the chair. She peeked at you and shook her head slowly as if she was trying to prevent you from saying or doing something stupid.
“How did you find out, agent Milton? How did you find out that I’m pregnant?”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere. Besides, people talk,” he explained, “and for a fair price, they’re gonna tell everything. Especially doctors… And their wives.”
You cursed in your thoughts as this whole situation was getting overwhelming. No place was safe anymore. As long as agent Milton and his friends would be alive, no one would be safe. No one…
The doors suddenly opened and Sadie stormed inside without noticing the men that hid behind them. You wanted to scream and warn her, but it was too late. It was too late the moment she walked through that door then collapsed on the ground as one of Milton’s men stunned her.
Your thoughts immediately went to Arthur. If Sadie was here, he must have been out there too. He must have been…
A sound of firing guns spread through the room when Arthur kicked the doors out then shot two men at once. It was all happening so fast, you could not catch up with everything that was going on at that moment. Arthur rushed to Abigail, passing through the dead bodies and again, right before a warning could escape your mouth, you felt Milton’s hand covering your mouth as he pulled you back on your feet.
“A-Arthur,” Abigail stammered and she set her eyes on you, making him turn around to see what scared her that much.
“Mister Morgan,” Milton said, “your wife said you would come.” He pushed you in front of him, placing his gun on the back of your head. “Any last words for her?”
“Y/N…” Arthur had managed to say before he froze. It took him a moment to process everything, but when he realised what the stake was, he dropped his gun and raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t hurt her,” he said, taking a step forward.
“And why wouldn’t I hurt her?”
“She’s not guilty of anything.”
“We offered you a deal, Mister Morgan,” Milton replied. “You turned it down, but you know who didn’t? Old Micah Bell… In case you were wondering who’s responsible for all this.”
“Micah?”
Another shot, but this time it was not Arthur who fired his gun. You looked to the side and saw Abigail holding a revolver in both of her shaking hands; she threw it aside and gave you both an apologising look. “He deserved it,” she stated, trying to believe in her own words. “He did, right?”
“He did, Abigail. That bastard deserved that bullet,” Sadie spoke, slowly getting up from the ground. You rushed to her and helped her stand up and in return, she gifted you with a warm smile. “Are you alright? Didn’t they hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” you assured her then peeked at Arthur, “we both are…”
When you said the last words, something seemed to break in him. In a blink of an eye, he was by your side and ignored the fact you were not alone by kissing you tenderly on the lips and. but it was not a usual kiss. It felt as if it was the last kiss you two could share and once he pulled away, your foreheads were still touching. “You want to drive me insane,” he panted. “I would go mad if something happened to you.”
“It wasn’t my fault this time,” you replied and smiled gently, feeling his rough stubble under your fingers. “Oh, Arthur…”
“Come on, lovebirds , let's get out of here,” Sadie said, interrupting you and Arthur. After that, she went outside and you all followed her, making your way out of an empty Van Horn.
Well, maybe not as empty as you thought it would be. Just when Arthur whistled for the horses, a few other men appeared in your sight and they all wanted to end what Milton could not. You mounted your horses and began riding, you with Arthur and Sadie with Abigail.
“Just ride,” Arthur told you then focused on shooting the guys in the back, “I’ll take care of the rest.”
It was hard to describe what you were feeling at that moment. Everything was happening so quickly, it was hard for you to think for a moment what was going on, but perhaps it was a good thing. You were too confused to be scared and it helped you to focus on riding ahead.
You had no idea how much you all kept riding till the sound of shooting stopped and got replaced by the rhythmical sound of thundering hooves.
You were far away from them.
They were gone.
But did it mean you all were safe?
You placed a hand on your chest and felt your heart pounding in your chest. All the emotions you were trying to suppress were now coming out and you shuddered, bringing Arthur’s attention to you.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered to your ear and wrapped his left arm around you. “Pass me the reins,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It’s okay… Breathe, baby,” he kept talking, slowing down your horse. “Hey, hold up a moment!” He turned to Abigail and Sadie.
“Arthur, there’s no time…” Sadie told him, but he was not listening. He dismounted and helped you do the same, but you did not know why he was doing that. You were on the crossroad in the middle of nowhere and there still could be some more of Milton’s men out there, so there was no time to waste indeed.
“Where’s John?” Abigail asked out of sudden as his absence hit her. Arthur and Sadie exchanged glances and you looked at them both suspiciously.
“Yeah, where is he?” you repeated Abigail’s question.
“He…” Arthur started, looking at Abigail and then at you. “He got killed or he got captured,” he spat these words out then looked down, clenching his lips and fists. “I’m truly sorry Abigail…” He forced himself to look at her. “Y/N…” He turned to you, hoping you would say something, but you had no words.
You were speechless.
You did not believe him. It had to be some silly joke, but when you glanced at his face, you knew he was telling the truth.
That was when you heard Abigail weeping, letting a few tears fall on your cheeks, too.
You wished you had screamed.
You wished you had sobbed.
You wished you had done anything more than standing still and looking ahead blankly as if someone ripped a part of your heart out.
“No, no,” Abigail sobbed when Sadie placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I was on the train and I didn’t see anything,” Arthur continued. “Listen, we got Jack, he’s safe. Sadie will get you to him… John… I want you to know this… He loved you,” he told Abigail and she looked at him with her teary eyes.
“Not as much as he loved her,” she glared at you and you shook your head in response.
“He loved you and Jack, he wasn’t perfect, but he did love you,” Arthur ignored her remark. “You got to get your son, Abigail. That’s the only thing that matters now.”
“What about you? What are you gonna do?” Sadie asked when he helped Abigail mount her horse again.
“I'm gonna go and have a little chat with… You know.” He smiled lightly at her. “Will you do something for me, Sadie?” he asked and he turned to you. “Will you take care…”
“No, no. Forget it, Arthur, because I’m not going anywhere with them,” you spoke, figuring where he was going with his unfinished question. “I won’t let you leave me again,” you added firmly, wiping the tears out of your cheeks. “I’m going with you.”
“Do I really have to explain to you how dangerous it is?” Arthur sighed.
“I know, but we’re in this together,” you replied, raising up your right hand, “until death does us part, remember? Or suddenly it means completely nothing to you?”
“You’re impossible,” he stated and his eyes shone from tears.
“Don’t you ever dare to leave me again, Arthur,” you told him, fighting your own tears.
“You’ve always been stubborn,” Sadie spoke suddenly then approached you to hug you goodbye, “or since the day we met, at least.”
“You won’t deny liking me for it,” you told her when she pulled away. “Abigail,” you turned to the other girl, feeling a need to tell her one last thing. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
“Me too,” she replied, realising it could be the last time you two might talk.
“So… Farewell,” you said when Sadie joined Abigail on their horse. “Don’t make it too hard and just go,” you had managed to say before you teared up. “Go!” you sobbed and through the tears, you saw them both riding away. When they disappeared from your sight, you turned back to Arthur who had already wiped the tears and was preparing himself for the ride.
“I can’t believe it… John…”
“I’m truly sorry… I know it’s much to cope with,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him, “but we’ll get through this… Once we get out of here, I promise.”
“So, what’s your plan?” you asked once you got yourself together.
“I have to get some things straight with Dutch,” he explained. “It… It won’t be a pleasant conversation.”
“I already figured that out,” you marked.
“I would prefer it if you just… Waited for me somewhere safe. Both of you,” Arthur’s hand rested on your belly, stroking in gently.
“I’m not leaving you.” You took his hands in yours. “It’s not negotiable.”
“Sadie was right telling you’ve always been stubborn,” he pointed and a small smirk appeared on his face.
“And you loved me for it,” you fired back. “Let’s get this over with,” you stated, letting go of his hands.
You mounted your horse and held out your hand to him. “You coming?”
Neither of you said much on the way back to the camp. There were so many things to say, but at the same time, nothing seemed appropriate at that moment, so you kept riding in silence.
You held Arthur tightly and rested your head against his back, enjoying one of the most beautiful sunsets in your life. The setting sun was shining through the trees, making the woods even more magical than ever, so peaceful and quiet.
For a moment, you wished you two had turned back, leaving all the past behind you, but it was just wishful thinking.
You had to end it first.
Arthur could not leave it like that, not after so many years of blind loyalty to Dutch.
“We’re almost there,” Arthur said then turned his head to look at you. “It’s all gonna be over soon.” You nodded in response and forced yourself to smile gently, even if inside you were full of doubts.
“Hurry, we ain’t got long… Hurry!” You heard Micah’s voice coming from afar.
So that was it.
You looked around, realising Beaver Hollow had never been this creepy before. At that moment, when Arthur halted his horse, a shiver came through your body.
There were only a few people left in the camp. Everything you knew and were used to changed within a few days. It was not the place you used to know, that was certain when you and Arthur arrived, you both felt more like strangers than actual gang members.
“We just got plenty of time, Micah,” Arthur said, dismounting his horse and helping you do the same. “We all need to have a little chat.”
“Cowpoke, you’re back… And you’re not alone,” Micah replied and eyed you. “You’re hard to kill, don’t you?” he asked, letting out a small chuckle.
“I’ve been learning from the best rats over there for years,” you bit back while Arthur stepped ahead, walking slowly towards Dutch who had just left his tent.
“I just saw agent Milton, Dutch. Abigail shot him,” Arthur stated, getting closer to his friend with every step he was making. “She’s okay… Not that you care too much about her or my wife. You rats,” he turned to Micah and his pals. “Seems Micah was pretty close to Milton. He talked.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Micah asked calmly. “That’s a goddamn lie.”
“Milton told me,” Arthur shook his head, “and it all makes sense now, Dutch.”
“No… It damn well doesn’t,” Micah said, glaring at Arthur and then, out of sudden, he pointed a gun at him and so did Arthur.
They were all pointing guns at each other and your heart began racing; you were looking at them, feeling more and more scared with every passing second.
It was pure madness.
“Dutch, think!” Arthur hissed to his friend.
“Dutch, be practical now,” Micah fired back.
You turned to Dutch and realised he was clueless. He did not know what to do or who to believe. All these years… All these years and he still had no idea who was his friend and who was the enemy.
“Dutch!” A raspy voice spread through an almost empty camp. It could not be…
It could not…
“John?”
“You left me… You left me to die!” John shouted, hobbling towards you all.
“My boy, I didn’t have a choice…” Dutch spoke, making a few steps in his direction. “I didn’t have a choice…”
“You… LEFT ME !” John’s voice was filled with pain.
You did not know if it was real, because seeing him again felt like a dream. You had thought you lost him, but it was a lie. He was standing over there, alive and the only thing you wanted to do was to run to him at once, but you could not.
The time was running out quickly.
“All of you, you pick your side now, because this is over,” Arthur said after a while, breaking the silence. “All these years, Dutch… For this snake?” He pointed his gun at Micah.
“Be quiet, cowpoke!”
“No, you be quiet, Mr Bell,” Mrs Grimshaw said and stood behind Arthur’s, pointing her gun at him.
“There’s Pinkertons coming, fast!” Javier yelled, appearing out of nowhere.
Then, it all happened fast.
Micah fired his gun and shot Mrs Grimshaw, making her fall onto the ground and bleed out. Dutch pulled out his guns and was saying something you could not understand as you were focused on the whines coming from the older woman. You stepped closer to Arthur and were standing behind his back when John joined you, covering you with his body.
Six men against two.
“Put down your guns!” You had heard some Pinkerton shouting before a real shooting began.
It was not surprising that Dutch and his new gang left the second as these words reached their ears, so you were just in three, John, Arthur and you.
All by yourselves.
“Here, take this,” John threw you one of his guns. “Let’s see how much Arthur taught you through all these years.”
You did not hesitate. The adrenaline had filled your body and made you focus only on one thing again: survival. All the sounds were blurred, so you instinctively followed Arthur through the caves, then through the woods where you got to your horses and continued your escape. It all seemed like a short moment, but when you went outside it was dark and it seemed as if a night already replaced a day on its watch.
You were riding fast, not looking back even though you were still being chased. There was no time for fear, no time to think even though a million thoughts were crossing your mind at that moment when you were galloping through the woods, to the moment when they surrounded you, shooting your horses and making you collapse onto the ground.
“No, no,” you said, still caressing your horse’s neck and feeling tears streaming down your face.
“Stay low,” Arthur shouted and covered you, shooting Pinkertons one by one. The world seemed to slow down when you looked around, seeing them all fighting with each other.
Out of sudden, it got quiet. For a brief moment, the shooting stopped, giving you some time to catch a breath. To look at them both. To look at two men you loved.
“John,” you said, running into his arms, “I thought… Abigail thought,” you were trying to express your thoughts, but you wanted to say too many things at once. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“I’m glad to see you, too,” he replied and pecked your forehead. “We have to go, Arthur…”
“No, you two have to go,” he stated, raising his head from above the dead body of your horse. “John, take her from here… I’ll slow them down.”
“What—what the hell are you talking about?!” you yelled at him, freeing herself out of John’s embrace and heading to your husband. “I’m not going anywhere! You hear me, Arthur?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt… If there’s one thing I want, it’s to get you both out of this alive.”
“Y/N, he’s right. You… In your state…” John spoke, but you did not want to listen.
“What part of I’m not going anywhere you both did not understand?!” You looked at Arthur then at John and did something you thought you would never have to do. “Get out of here, John…” You pointed the gun he had given you at him. “You have a family to go to while everything I have is here… I beg you, don’t make me shoot you to prove I’m being serious right now.”
“Y/N… Listen to Arthur, please...”
“I wish things were different, but they’re not. Please, go… Please, don’t make it even harder.”
“You won’t listen, will you?”
“She won’t,” Arthur said and appeared by your side, “but she’s right. You have a son waiting for you out there.” He pulled out his gun and also pointed it at John. “Get out,” he commanded and when you looked at him, you saw he was holding back his tears. “Run and never look back.”
“May I at least say my goodbyes to you?”
“It’s not a goodbye, John.”
“Then what is it?”
“Just go,” you told him and he did as you had said.
He looked at you once more then, walked away.
Just like that.
It was too painful to watch, but it was the right thing to do. If there was someone who deserved to get out of this mess alive, it was him.
“Are you alright?” Arthur asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question.
“Let’s go up that cliff. We can’t stay here,” you stated and pushed forward while Arthur kept covering your back.
For the first time in your life, you had no time to be sentimental. It was all about getting you and him out of this madness, too. It was the only thing you could allow yourself to think about.
After some time, you reached the top of the cliff, but still, there were too many of Pinkertons surrounding you. Arthur and you were tired and apparently, they also were as the shooting eased, but it was too soon to say it was over.
It was so close and yet so far to be over.
“Oh god,” you said, trying to catch a breath. “You’re covered in blood…” you noticed when you looked at Arthur.
“It’s not mi—” He wanted to reply when, out of sudden, Micah appeared behind his back and pushed him onto the ground, throwing his fist at him.
“Got you now, cowpoke!” Micah shouted, wrestling with Arthur. “You’re too weak to fight me now,” he added, but that was also the moment when you jumped on him, tearing him off Arthur for a while.
It was an impulse, you were not thinking rationally and you certainly did not think of how strong Micah was. It was easy for him to get you off him and push you away, making you bump into a rock.
You fell and the world began spinning around while a trickle of blood streamed down your face as you hit your head hard.
“Not so bold anymore?” Micah laughed deeply then slapped you, making you spit the blood out of your mouth.
“Leave her alone!” Arthur pulled him away from you, but he, for the first time in his life, was not strong enough. Micah had an advantage over you both and he was ready to use it. After he had knocked Arthur down, he returned to you and once he lifted you, he pinned you against the rock and punched you a few more times, cutting your cheek and leaving a bunch of bruises on your face. “Leave her… She’s pregnant,” Arthur managed to say to him from the ground. “Please…”
“Pregnant?” Micah puffed. “Well, well… I guess I should congratulate you both, but you know me.” His grip tightened on your wrists. “I’m not a sentimental type,” he added and you whined from the pain he was causing you.
“I beg you… Leave her,” Arthur asked him once more.
“Beg me? But you’re not on your knees,” he pointed and with a corner of your eye, you saw Arthur was ready to kneel in front of this bastard just to save you. He would do anything in this world to save you and his baby.
“I beg you,” he repeated once he was on his knees, “leave her.”
“Oh, cowpoke,” Micah laughed, letting you out of his grip, “but she’s also the reason why you’re this miserable… Weak…” he kept talking. “When we met, you were someone, you know? Now you’re just… Pathetic.”
It was too much.
The pain and the tiredness combined with anger filled you and you realised you could not watch this farce anymore. You could not walk, so you crawled towards them both, grabbing Arthur’s knife that had fallen out when Micah attacked him on your way.
“You lost, Arthur. You lost everything,” Micah taunted. “How does that feel?” He punched Arthur in the face once more and he collapsed under his weight, tired of fighting Micah back.
“On the contrary,” Arthur told him, “I think I’ve won.”
“Won? How— AARGH !!!” A howl came out of Micah’s mouth as you stabbed his thigh and cut it down its length. He had fallen onto his knees and managed to slap you once more before he ripped the knife out of his wound and threw it away. “You whore!”
Micah grabbed your ankle and pulled you to himself, pinning both of your hands above your head as he straddled you. The blood was coming out of his thigh, making you and him all covered in red liquid. “I’ll kill you in front of your goddamn husband!”
“ ENOUGH !!!” You turned your head in the direction from where the voice was coming from and saw nobody else, but Dutch. “It is over now… It’s over.”
“Dutch!” Micah said, trying to get up.
“He’s a rat…” Arthur coughed from aside, propping on his elbows. “Dutch…”
“I said… It’s over,” Dutch repeated and you can hear his voice was almost cracking. “We have to go, Micah. Now.”
“Did you want to let them live? After everything they've done?” Micah questioned, but Dutch had already made his decision.
“Let’s just go,” he replied, “they’re both already dead, anyway.”
You glared at him, but to your surprise, he did not do the same. He mouthed I’m sorry then turned around, clenching his fists. “You coming or what, Micah?” he hissed and the other man hobbled to him, pressing his bleeding wound. “This bitch got me pretty hard…” You heard him saying to Dutch, but the rest was blurry as they were already too far away to be heard.
You coughed, spitting out the blood out of your mouth and turned on your back, catching a breath after breath. It got quiet again, but this time the silence was overwhelming and after a while, you realised why it felt like it.
Arthur.
You turned around and began crawling to him; he was laying on his back with his head turned to the opposite direction, so he could not see you coming. He was unconscious anyway, but that was what you were thinking when you got to him and he did not respond to your calls.
“Arthur, open up your eyes,” you cried out, shaking his shoulders. “Arthur, please… Don’t you dare to die on me!”
Still, he was not replying and the panic took control over your body. You did not know what to do; every inch of your body was hurting, you could barely move, not mentioning carrying a man on your shoulder.
It was bad. It was so bad, the only thing you could do was cry and shake his body, hoping he would respond. Hoping he would look at you once more and tell you he loves you, making everything good again.
But he was not moving.
He was barely breathing, his face bruised and covered up in the blood. You wiped away the tears and cupped his face, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I need you,” you whispered, “I need you now more than I ever did. We need you… Don’t you dare to die on me,” you had stated firmly before you tore up completely.
And that was when you heard the sound of footsteps behind your back and felt a hand resting on your shoulder as someone crouched beside you; you slowly looked back, seeing John’s worried face.
“You shouldn’t have come back,” you said quietly, taking Arthur’s hands in yours and stroking them gently. “Why did you come back?”
“I shouldn’t have left in the first place,” he replied, “and I realised that the moment I walked away from both of you.”
Your lips twitched, but you did not smile. You wanted to be glad to see him, but you were not. He should have left when he could and live the good life he deserved. The life that was far from pain, suffering, violence and everything that was surrounding him for years.
But he did not want that and you knew exactly what was holding him back or who, to be precise.
John did nothing bad, except one thing - he fell in love with you and was constantly hurting himself because of that. You wished he had not done that to himself, but the heart wants what it wants and you should have known it best.
“So, what do you need?” John asked after a while and at the same moment, Arthur moved, coughing the blood out of his mouth.
“You. I need you to help me, John.”
***
A/N: I don't like goodbyes or endings, so don't expect me to make one here. I feel like this story is my heart poured on the pages, it's something that will always be alive in my heart and will always bring such beautiful memories with it... That's the reason why it's an open ending.
What I want to do is to thank all of you who has ever taken time to read this story, leave a comment or message me to talk about it. Thank you so much for keeping me going for so long, sharing your thoughts with me and showing how much you liked it.
I don't think there are words to express how grateful I'm for it all.I also want to thank people who support me - I know there are some of you who have been with me from the very start - you gave me wings and I learned to fly thanks to you, your presence and kind words you gifted me with.
Oh, I'll stop before I cry. I'm so sentimental, but there's a chance for a prologue for this story... or Between you two 3? I'm just thinking out loud.
Anyway... I was trying my hardest not to ruin this story at its end... I like to think I didn't, but I leave it to you.
Aww in the beginning(part1)she ask John to help her with Arthur too🤧
That was a nice ride. In my mind they all lived happy Arthur with his kids and love of his life he deserve to be happy😭😭❤️
Thank you
I’M GONNA CRY RN 😭😭😭😭😭 I thought no one was gonna notice this parallel, but you did! WHO ARE YOU? Please, tell me, because I want to thank you personally for noticing this detail!
And eee, it can be exactly as you think! It’s the beauty of open endings (and a possibility for me to go and write an epilogue or the next part. 👀
You’re very welcome and big thank you for you, too. ❤️
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