A few days later…
Dutch had insisted the gang needs to have a celebration before their last score. The train robbery was planned, though the details hadn't been shared yet. Money, that's all that mattered, how they got it didn't overly concern Dutch. Ana hadn't seen much of him since they nearly got caught by the army, he'd been spending a majority of his days with Hosea or Micah. His old friend had such little time left, she got why he wanted to be with him. Dutch lacked his usual charm while feeling burdened, he'd crawl into bed with her at night, pulling at her nightgown without speaking. Sex was like a coping mechanism he'd developed. Ana didn't mind, she figured it was helping to some extent. It was a distraction to her as well, one she couldn't resist.
Ana wore a light jacket over her blue dress since these parties tend to last till early the next day. The drinking had just started, but it wasn't exactly a lighthearted atmosphere. The gang was split into groups, John, Arthur, Sadie, and Charles sat by the main campfire. Micah, Dutch, Javier and Bill stood by Dutch's tent. Everyone else, including Ana, lingered on the outside, making small talk while drinking faster than usual. Ana thought once the booze was really flowing things would be less uncomfortable. She kept that in mind while chugging the second half of her beer.
"Easy on the drink, Ana. Don't wanna end up like Karen," Abigail commented sarcastically. Ana subtly laughed at her motherly concern, she'd always been kind to her even though John had prevented a real friendship from forming. They were both reasonable, jealousy wasn't something they indulged often.
"Drinking is the only thing that'll get me through tonight," Ana spoke under her breath. It irked her to think that this could be the last time everyone is together, and it's being wasted. A tipsy impulse caused her to undo her braid. She intently gazes at Uncle, who'd fallen asleep on a chair. She moves to him gracefully, nudging him with her foot.
"Huh? Why you gotta wake me up like that? If I don't sleep my lumbago will flare up again…" He pouted like a puppy.
Ana smiled politely at him. "Come on, Uncle, us ladies haven't been serenaded by that lovely voice of yours in weeks!"
He quickly observed the gathering audience. He had no chance to resist, Javier was ready with his guitar. The pair began playing a familiar tune.
Oh Molly, Oh Molly, it's for your sake alone.
I leave my old parents, my house and my home.
My love for you it has caused me to roam.
I'm a rabble-rouser and Dixie's my home.
The cliques were merging, the invisible wall had been temporarily broken down. Mary-Beth took Ana's arm, the women swayed and sang along. She'd always liked something about Mary-Beth, they were around the same age yet had very little in common. It made her feel like a real young lady to sing and dance with a friend. They clapped once the melody was over, Javier continued on to play background music.
Ana left to get another drink by Pearson's kitchen. Her pale skin brushed lightly against someone's tanned hand reaching for the same bottle. She looked up to see a friendly sight; scars, brown eyes, boyish smile.
"I had it first," John whispered playfully. She could smell whiskey on him, it made her head feel fuzzy.
"I beg to differ, I definitely touched it first." She snatched it away, he failed to grab it in time. He watched her with a fake frown while she took a big gulp.
"You just take what you want, don't you?" he asked while grabbing another drink.
She smacked her lips, feeling the burn in her throat and stomach. "I wouldn't have nothing if I didn't take it, Marston." It was true, she'd be jobless, penniless and homeless otherwise. John shook his head, grinning like a man who was in love. He still loved Ana, more than he could admit to anyone. The thought of their upcoming goodbye made him want to appreciate every inch of her body and soul.
"I guess you're right. You sure did take me without asking." Ana almost spat out her drink at such a forward statement, she raised her eyebrows.
"Nope, the first time we kissed was your doing. I was blind drunk but I remember that part all too well," she said, placing a hand on her hip.
John put on his thinking face. That was a night he had no memory of, not one of his finest moments. It puzzled him to think that without that forgotten night, that drunken kiss, their relationship likely wouldn't have happened. For once, he was thankful for his intoxicated actions. A question left his mouth as it popped into his head.
"Do you regret it?" he asked softly.
Ana's face relaxes, she watches her heel dig into the ground. "Regret is a funny thing, don't you think? You feel it so strongly in one moment and then it loses its power with time. Well, that or it drives you mad. To answer your question, no. I don't think I'll ever regret us."
They both look up from staring at the ground, their eyes meeting. He always liked seeing her brown eyes since they were almost the same shade as his. Another thing he'd always admired was her way of thinking, he'd known few women who were as insightful as her. Abigail was simple, and he liked that about the mother of his child. He figured it was the complexity and rareness of Anastasia Fetcher that made him love her so strongly. Also, she was tough as hell, so was Abigail. Maybe he did really love Abigail too, it was just different with her. Who he loved more didn't matter, he had to look out for his family now, like Arthur told him to. That choice didn't stop him from craving closure with the woman who stood before him.
John subconsciously replayed the memory of confessing his feelings to her. It poured that day like God was trying to cleanse the world of its sins. He found it funny how dramatic the weather made it seem. The romantic buried deep within him wanted to ask for her hand in marriage right then and there if only circumstances were different.
Whiskey, or what he called liquid courage, empowered him to demand an answer from her. "Stop giving me an earful and just say you love me. I'm tired of this 'I care about you, Marston' shit because it's a load of crap. I know how I feel; how can you not know by now?"
Ana felt the need to defend herself but purposely chose not to. She thought out loud. "Fair enough. I love you, Marston. I love how sure you are that you love me, and I love the man you're becoming. Now excuse me while I drown myself in a tub full of whiskey."
She walked off without allowing him to respond. John smiled to himself, the kind of satisfied smile that couldn't be suppressed. He'd finally gotten through that thick skull of hers. For the rest of the night, they exchanged knowing stares across camp until they had the opportunity to sneak off. They made love to and with each other on a bed of leaves, like they had so many times before.
…
Hangovers and resentment don't mix well. The gang seemed to be making progress towards reconciliation last night, that was undone when Micah's buddies showed up in the morning. Joe and Cleet, two rat-faced men who could hardly form a proper sentence. Ana found it troubling and slightly comedic since they were like dumber, uglier versions of Micah. John and Arthur had been quietly complaining about them to whoever would listen, Miss Grimshaw, on the other hand, made her disapproval known with volume. Ana was the first of the gang to approach the newcomers directly instead of gossiping.
"Hi there, Joe and Cleet, right? I'm Ana, thought I should introduce myself since we'll be robbing a train together pretty soon." She thought about shaking their hands until she noticed how dirty they were, they reeked like they hadn't bathed since winter.
They stared without a hint of friendliness, clearly sizing her up. "Since when do whores rob trains?" Joe asked Micah who was leaning on a stone wall. Ana felt her body stiffen and her mind run wild with insults. If she weren't still trying to fool Micah, she would've broken that idiot's nose.
Micah slithered over, snickering feebly and flashing a smile that was repulsive. "She ain't no whore, unless Dutch and John been paying you all along?" He bumped into her side with his elbow, acting as if she should find this entertaining.
Ana rolled her eyes. There was no possible way she could pretend to laugh at that, it made her feel sick to be treated with such disrespect. She was beginning to leave when a pair of greasy hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap. Joe locked her in with his arms while she squirmed. Micah and Cleet cheered as if they were watching dancing girls.
Joe was a big guy, almost as big as Arthur, she couldn't overpower him. No one in camp had noticed what was happening. "Let me go you bastard!" She hoped her shout would attract attention. Joe let her go as soon as he saw Arthur marching over with John not far behind. A small crowd had gathered. Dutch emerged from his tent.
"What the fuck is going on here?!" John growled.
Ana bit her lip nervously; this situation could escalate quickly. "They're just a pair of fools. I'm fine, let's just forget about it."
Dutch put out his cigar on the table before making his way to Ana's side. He slid a hand onto her back and pointed his finger at Micah's minions. "Listen here boys, you best show Miss Fetcher some respect. She's earned her place here unlike you two."
"You heard the man," Micah added, suddenly switching his personality to the nice guy he was whenever Dutch was watching.
"Dutch, what are you thinking, letting these two lowlifes waltz around camp like they own the goddamn place? What is happening to you?" Arthur asked with an appalled expression on his face.
Dutch let go of Ana and took a single step towards the man he used to trust more than anyone. His stare was cold and challenging.
"Excuse me?"
Ana sighed with relief when a bunch of oncoming horses caught everyone's notice. Eagle Flies, followed by his men, appeared to be fuming with rage.
"Mr. Van der Linde, Mr. Morgan, Charles, Ana!" he called out, stopping his horse once he saw the gang gathering. Ana was surprised he even remembered her name. "They tried to kill my people for oil. For oil! Today we ride once more. Ride with me, ride with us!"
"I love your courage, son," Dutch raised his arms pridefully while the sun lit his face, "it is a thing of great beauty."
Something snapped inside of Ana. A voice in her head told her to stop the performance, to act on her instincts, to be impulsive. She was never going to trick Micah anyhow, she had to take back control before it was beyond her reach.
"No, that isn't courage, it's cowardice. Eagle Flies, you and your men will die if you do this. Corpses can't protect your people!" She moved in front of Dutch, her eyes fiery with passion. Dutch starred daggers into the back of her head. This wasn't the woman who promised to always have his back, she was betraying him by directly questioning his authority.
Rains Fall came riding in from the Eastern path, waving frantically. "Stop! Everyone stop!" He got off his horse, stumbling towards his boy. "My son… my last son, don't. When I was your age I fought, and I saw death. The men and women I knew were slain. We made peace, I had no choice. Maybe you were right, a slow death is worse than a fast one. But we must endure, do not die for pride my son!"
"Listen to your father, pride is weakness if it guides you to dying for a war that is lost. Let pride be your strength by refusing to give these men what they want." Eagle Flies looked between Ana and his father, feeling less assured, but his stubbornness was unbreakable.
"These words mean nothing to me. Ride with me!" Eagle Flies took off before his father could object.
Ana shook her head and turned back to the gang. Dutch lost his control, he stomped till he was towering a head above her. He grabbed the collar of her shirt until his knuckles turned white.
"Where did your sense of loyalty go?" he asked quietly, it sent a fearful chill down her spine.
She touched his cheek, trying to get through to the man she loved. "Loyalty goes both ways, Dutch. I know dismissing the lives of innocent men isn't your way, please trust me."
"Another doubter, I should've seen it coming. I have a plan, Ana, I always do." He dismissed her, redirecting his attention to Rains Fall who was begging Arthur to save his son. John and she shared an uneasy look. He was almost ready to draw his gun on Dutch. She focused on steadying her shaky hands by gripping the material of her pants.
"Alright… who's riding with me?" Arthur asked the gang.
"Oh I'll ride with you Arthur, wouldn't wanna miss this," Dutch answered with mockery in his tone.
The rest of the gang responded with their own version of yes. They headed for their horses, Arthur subtly tugged Ana to the back. He was sure to keep his voice down. "Micah will never trust you after that stunt you just pulled."
"I'm done playing games, Arthur. More folks will die if we don't stop him."
"No, we get the others safe then you and me go North. Ain't no time for revenge," Arthur spoke sternly. He squeezed her wrist to soothe her, hesitating before stroking his calloused thumb along her soft skin. It seemed to put her at ease for a moment.
"We'll never be safe while he's alive," she said before they separated to mount their horses. They joined the triangle formation the gang rode in. Dutch led the pack like always.
…
I rode a couple of horses behind Dutch, Sadie was next to me with John and Arthur right in front of us. A cool breeze was pushing my hair out of my face, I could smell rain brewing in the clouds. The autumn heat was leaving us, soon the cold would creep in. No one had bothered to make conversation so far, the sounds of horses galloping were all I heard. I hope that Dutch will see my act of supposed defiance was one of reason. I sulked at the word hope because I have such little left. Still, little is not none, I will drill sense back into Dutch's brain before I leave, even if he ends up hating me for it.
"Why the hell would they attack the oil fields?" asked John, disrupting the pattern awkward silence.
I jumped in, my beliefs poured from my mouth like honey, it made me feel strong to speak my mind without being cautious of what others would think. "Cause those young men have seen nothing but violence and hatred their whole lives, they know no other means of retaliation. This country has stolen everything from them, including their innocence."
"That is right Miss Fetcher, the army, the government, the industrialists… they stole from them, wouldn't you want the chance to fight back?" Dutch asked, sounding somewhat passive aggressive.
I wet my chapped lips with the tip of my tongue. "Fighting is different than dying without cause, Mr. Van der Linde."
Arthur gently coughed into his palm before speaking. "Wait… this was your idea, Dutch? You've handed them a goddamn death sentence!"
"Just like John if we hadn't got him out of that prison!" Sadie spoke abruptly. She'd always had a way of sounding harsher than everyone.
"Hey, show some goddamn respect," said Bill from behind me.
"Clearly you ain't seen Sadie being disrespectful Bill," I added, defending my friend.
Dutch's shoulders tensed like they always did whenever he was pissed off. I've nearly memorized his body language after months spent by his side. It hurts to think that soon I may never again witness the way his facial muscles relax as he leans in to kiss me. I put that pain aside for later.
"I had a plan… I still have a plan."
Plan, another word I've come to despise after hearing it leave Dutch's mouth endlessly.
"What plan? What goddamn plan, Dutch? Tahiti? Timbuktu?" John asked spitefully. The rasp in his voice was clearly furious.
Javier finally says something. "That's enough. What's wrong with you all? What happened to loyalty?"
I scoff, mumbling to myself. "Didn't realize asking questions makes us disloyal…" I watch the back of Dutch's black hair. The distance between us is killing me, tears pricked my eyes, I rapidly blinked them away. I had to fix things before the battle, who knows what could happen to us. I cut in front of Arthur and Javier to get next to him, ignoring the questioning looks I was probably getting from the others.
I took a quick breath to minimize my stuttering. "I… I just wanted to tell you that I'm real sorry. It weren't right to defy you like that, I guess I just want those boys to do better than us." I look at Dutch, waiting for a reaction. His stone-like face diminishes while he sighs, he returns my stare. A sense of relief washes over me, I'm starting to think Dutch has a soft spot for me.
"And I apologize for losing my temper, dear girl. We can't always agree on everything. You gotta keep your faith, that's all I ask, this'll all make sense soon."
I sent him a side smile and a nod before slowing down till I was back in place. A part of me feels guilty for planning to leave behind Dutch's back. If I really can get him to see the truth about Micah, maybe he'd be willing to come with me. That would be the best-case scenario.
Dutch prompts us to ride harder and we do so. Arthur twists his neck, glancing at John before he turns to me. He is telling me something, that is apparent through his tight lips and narrowed eyes. Perhaps he's got a bad feeling about what we're heading into. I anxiously swallow when he looks forward.
We arrive at a small hill overlooking the oil fields, black smoke is rising from a massive fire. This place reeks of death and pollution. It's a massacre, just like I was expecting.
"I see Eagle Flies, over there." Charles points to a figure crossing the walkway.
"I'll see if I can get to him if you go distract them, I'm better off alone," Arthur said to Dutch, motioning to where the bulk of the fighting is.
I roll my eyes at what is an irrational strategy. "Better off alone? Yeah right. I'm coming with you, dumbass."
Arthur chuckles, understanding he doesn't have a choice in the matter. "Fine, get off that damn horse. You shoot like a little city girl on horseback."
I get on the back of Arthur's black steed, poking him in the ribs for teasing me.
"Alright, just… keep her safe and meet us at the factory," Dutch said without looking at me, "rest of you, ride with me!"
Everyone besides Charles, John and Sadie follow Dutch. I admit riding amongst people I trust makes me feel unstoppable.
"Come on then, ride with me!" Arthur says assertively. We ride down the hill, shooting each guard that blocks our path. Arthur was right, my aim is significantly better when I'm not the one controlling the mount. My bullets find their way to the chest of every target, their bodies dropping at my will. Arthur, as always, manages to make headshots look like child's play. Our horses stop at the train tracks, everyone dismounts, sprinting to cover wherever is closest. I duck behind a pile of wooden planks. Bullets are flying at us from above.
"Shoot the bastards in the tower!" I yell to anyone who can hear me. I take aim at a sniper who is rather eager to blow our heads off. A smile creeps onto my face when I shoot his weapon from his hand. He retreats, I doubt he'll give us any more trouble.
"Quick, get across that bridge!" Charles sounds panicked even though Arthur had already taken out the men on the bridge. I almost trip on a dead's man gun while crossing.
We move together, keeping our eyes peeled for Eagle Flies. The young man conveniently bursts through the entrance of a cabin, fighting off a stranger in uniform. Arthur shoots his enemy in the head.
He looks surprised yet pleased to see that we've come for him. "Thank you, thank you for coming. My men are fighting by the factory, we must save them!"
Taking cover is a waste of time, we dashed through the area, shooting whoever got in our way. Stopping would mean getting shot, so my feet moved faster than my mind. It felt like the dance of a gunslinger. The guards were dropping like flies, probably because fighting isn't their nature. It's ours.
We were at an advantage until a Gatling gun fired nonstop at us. Boy, do I hate those things. My fellow outlaws darted towards protection, I was a few steps behind when I feel the blow to my calf. Arthur kills whoever attacked me while I stagger towards a few barrels. Before I have a chance to inspect the wound, Arthur pulls a throwing knife out of my leg. I groan and slam my fist against the sandy ground.
"Didn't go too deep, can you walk?" he asks loudly into my ear, keeping his head down while the others keep on shooting.
I tear off my bandana, tying it tightly around the cut. "Been shot in the same shoulder twice and didn't die, you think a knife is gonna stop me now? Let's go."
Arthur shook his head in disbelief. "That tough act you got going on is real adorable, Fetcher. Now keep your head down while I take care of this bastard." My eyes stayed on him while he rose above me, taking a single shot with his rifle. The Gatling gun stopped firing. Does he realize what a force of nature he is? He offers me his hand and I take it, now jogging with a slight limp.
We moved up, finally reaching the factory. The gunfire grew louder as we turned the corner. I spotted a guardsman with his back to me, I kicked him to the ground with my uninjured leg, firing a bullet to seal his fate.
Thunder roars abruptly like it's scolding this world, I quickly look up at a thick layer of storm clouds I hadn't even noticed. The downpour was upon us in seconds, blurring our sight, soaking us to the core and turning dirt into mud. I squint while shooting at the small number of men left.
The gunfire came to a halt. "I don't see none of them standing no more!" Bill shouted.
Arthur goes to Dutch while Sadie and I watch out for reinforcements. I turn around at the bang of Dutch shooting a door open, I'm about to follow him inside when he stops me by placing his hand on my upper arm.
"We're gonna get our ticket outta here, Ana. Rest of you, get outta here!" Dutch pauses, lowering his head so his mouth is right next to my ear, "Wait for me here. We're so close now, don't let me down."
I return to Sadie, who ignored Dutch's command to leave. Charles and Eagle Flies are searching for survivors. The few injured men remaining left with the rest of our gang. The rain came and went, it's almost unbearably quiet after all that noise.
Sadie ends the comfortable silence between us, keeping her sight fixed on the sunset. "Arthur told me about leaving, wants me to come with."
That doesn't surprise me, he'd always thought highly of the indestructible widow who I admittedly strive to be like. I'd even got the impression he liked her more than he let on. Could that be why he ended things with Mary?
"You think he likes you?" I ask neutrally, unable to picture what sort of couple they'd turn out to be.
She cackled as if that was the most ridiculous suggestion she's heard in all her years. "That's real funny hon. We is just friends, I assure you," she sighs faintly before explaining, "my Jakey was the only man for me. He was good, just like Arthur. I… I just don't see how I could feel that way about anyone after losing him."
I hummed, letting her know that I understood her reasoning.
"What about you and Arthur?" she asked, looking at my face. My eyes widen, my cheeks feel hot, meaning they're probably a horrifying shade of red.
"Arthur and me? Come on, that's just… crazy. Plus, he wouldn't lay a finger on any girl my age after Eliza."
Sadie laughs softly, apparently finding my reaction amusing. "Alright, alright, no need to panic. You're just like two peas in a pod nowadays. Anyways… I think I might do some travelling on my own once we rob that train, maybe do some bounty hunting. What about you and Morgan?"
I hadn't considered what we would do beyond running and surviving. "Not much we can do with the price on our heads."
Dutch and Arthur slam the door open, dragging Eagle Flies between them. A gasp escapes my mouth when I see the hole in his stomach, a non-survivable wound that only a shotgun could cause. The blood pours from his guts like a waterfall, making me lightheaded. Arthur and Charles are helping him onto a horse while Dutch waves what looks like state bonds in his hand.
"We did it, we got some money, and with the train job… everything is coming together, exactly as I planned." Dutch taps his temple arrogantly, putting away his prize like it's the most precious thing he owns. It disturbs me to witness how his tunnel vision causes a disregard for the life of a young man.
"I'm gonna get the boy to his father," Arthur says while heading for his horse, Charles follows him without being asked.
"I'll come hel-"
Arthur spins around, preventing me from finishing my sentence by gripping my shoulder. "No, you don't need to see this, ain't gonna be nothing nice."
I bow my head with guilt, we say nothing else as we separate. Dutch gives me a strange look before offering his hand. We ride The Count back to camp through the night, the moonlight acting as our guide amongst the darkness.
A/N: Chapter 25! That scene where Arthur rides to the factory was one of the best moments in the game. Dutch didn't leave Arthur in this, makes sense since he isn't as crazy as he in the game due to Ana's presence
Fun fact: This fic is a love triangle primarily between Ana, John and Dutch. But I've been setting up the potential relationship between Ana and Arthur throughout this entire fic. IF it happens, it will be a slow burn, unlike how it was with the other men lol. Are there any moments you can think of that hinted at a connection between them?
Disclaimer: I do not own RDR.