Red Dead Retribution

Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption or Rockstar Games. This is strictly for fun, but you all know that already lol. Enjoy! :)

Prologue

The pain was excruciating. He had no idea that suffering could come from death. He had expected an eternal rest of peace, knowing he had saved his family and taken the ultimate sacrifice to accomplish it. Maybe Hell had claimed him for his sins, but he was not seeing abyssal flames in a tortuous underworld like in folklore, but only a blackness that was both haunting and alluring.

Maybe he wasn't dead yet. Maybe he was at the threshold between life and death. He tried to move, part of him fighting oncoming death, and the other part wanting to accept it and drift away. The pain pulsed with hotness and he suddenly could feel his body again. Though he wanted to yell out in agony, he had no voice. There was still this black void all around him. He tried to tell the good Lord to go ahead and finish him already.

He could smell something burning. Smoke filled his nostrils, and he started coughing. The act brought forth more pain from bloodied lungs. His eyes finally came open, the world spinning and his eyes trying to focus. There was a thick layer of smoke through his blurry vision and he could see the bright lapping of flames engulfing the house he was in. His mind was reeling, but soon it came to him. This was his house. His house was burning! He cast aside his confusion, having his last thoughts been back to standing outside the barn and letting Ross and his men gun him down, and started trying to move.

John Marston reeled up into a sitting position, stabbing pain hitting him hard. His first thoughts were his family. Uncle was dead, but Abigail and Jack had gotten away on horseback, he made sure of it. As he forced himself to move, knowing he had only minutes to escape the blazing fire eating away his home, he soon realized he wasn't alone in the living room.

His heart sunk, and instantly everything was forgotten. The engulfing flames around him, the intense pain that wracked his weak body, all disremembered because of the sight before him.

Abigail's body, shot and bloodied, lay next to him, cold and lifeless. Uncle was not too far from her, a bloody mess like he was before John let himself be executed. As he crawled over to his wife, he scanned frantically for Jack, but his son was nowhere to be found in the burning room with them.

He knew Abigail was dead, but he pulled her up into his lap and begged her to wake up anyway. She had been shot several times in the chest. John just couldn't understand why this had to happen. He did everything they wanted, and they still killed his family

There was a crackling groan, and seconds later a wooden beam crashed to the floor next to him and Abigail. He suddenly realized how hard it was to breath. His few words to Abigail had been wracked with coughs.

He looked around some more, to make sure there was no sign of Jack. He prayed his son made it out alive. As much as John wanted to lay there and let the burning house claim him since Ross's bullets did not, he knew he had to escape and find Jack. He also had to make Ross pay.

The gunslinger was renewed with a reason to live, even just for a short amount longer. He bent over to kiss Abigail on the forehead one last time, and gently laid her down on the floor. Forcing himself to stand, John groaned in pain as he did so. His legs did not want to obey him, they were too weak. Moving had caused his wounds to reopen, and for a moment John wondered how long he had been out.

He started coughing violently, to the point blood was coming up. The smoke was getting thicker by the second. John limped for the nearest window, noticing how the fire was violently taking over the living room of the house. He busted the window with his elbow, trying to bear the pain that stabbed him with each little move. Cool air from the night outside immediately started to fill his nose. Some of the smoke found the exit, and started pouring out.

John vaulted himself over the window seal, not caring about the broken glass. His stiff body ended up toppling over, and he crashed onto the deck outside. He cursed his pain out loud, part of him wanting to give and up and die. He knew he had to keep going. If Jack was still alive, he needed to find him. And John would be damned if he would die before Edger Ross got what was coming to him.

As he was forcing himself to get up once more, his eyes came across some kegs of TNT in the yard. They were far enough away from the house, but John knew better than to not worry. Ross must have planted some inside. He wanted to make sure the Marston family was wiped from reality for good.

John moved as fast as his body would let him. Once in the yard, he started making his way for the barn, though he paused as soon as he saw the giant, roaring mass of flames that had overwhelmed his home. It was like watching his life, his soul burn away with that house. Anger boiled from deep within him, and a familiar darkness fell over him.

I'm going to KILL Ross for what he's done!

In that moment, the house exploded. The boom was sharp and deafening. Fire hissed and rose even higher into the night sky. John didn't have time to shield himself as rubble and hot air hit him hard. Something struck his left eye, burning like a branding iron right out of the hot coals. It immediately took out his sight in that eye, and the force from the impact and the agonizing pain that came with it caused John to fall onto his back.

His cries of agony were towards the starry sky. He clawed at his eye, his multiple gunshot wounds instantly forgotten. Whatever got him in his eye was staying. The pain was too unbearable, and John's senses were already troubled.

He crawled to his feet and headed for the barn. He was disoriented, mind overwhelmed with hatred and pain and heartbreak. He almost decided to drop to his knees and put his revolver in his mouth. Almost.

"Jack!"

There was no reply to his cry.

"JACK!"

Still no answer, but he saw something running for him from the other side of the barn. He scrambled for his revolver, but soon realized it was his horse. The black American Standardbred nickered as it skidded to a halt next to him. This was the horse he let Jack and Abigail get away on. They must have got caught. Or Abigail dropped Jack off somewhere to get Ross's men off their trail and got captured herself.

John didn't have time to dwell. He had to find Jack. The horse sniffed him, obviously stressed, but looked to be in good health. John grabbed the saddle horn and heaved himself up into the saddle. He was then hit with an overbearing sense of exhaustion. He almost lost consciousness right then and there, but forced himself to move and keep going. He kicked the horse to get moving, and headed out of Beecher's Hope.

He tried to call for Jack, but his head was ringing. His only eye was failing as he was slipping in and out of consciousness. He fought it hard, determined to find his son alive after all that has happened. Soon, John grew weak, and he couldn't hold on anymore. His senses failed, and the world was spinning. It was a wonder he didn't fall off the horse. He lost consciousness on his horse's back, everything turning black once more.

A/N: I have been wanting to write this for a long time, but never got down to doing it. Since I decided to play the game again, my inspiration has returned to me lol. At first I wasn't going to have Jack live, but I think it helps with keeping John alive. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing and hope you all enjoy! Take care! :)