Made the choice to go away

Drink the fountain of decay

Tear a hole exquisite red

Fuck the rest and stab it dead

Broken, bruised, forgotten sore

Too fucked up to care anymore

Poisoned to my rotten core

Too fucked up to care anymore.

Nine Inch Nails

Sunset found John Marton and Sadie Adler riding west toward John's homestead, side by side on horseback, the hooves clopping beneath them and the scree of cicadas and crickets loud all around, just like old times. The light was low, red going towards purple, casting New Haven into grim contrast. Sadie glanced over at John as they trotted along, her face perceptive even in the low glow, and tipped her hat back on her neck, allowing her blond hair to waft out behind her. She was smiling a little.

"Penny for 'em, Mister Milton."

"Ah, shit." John passed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "Just a lot to take in, is all."

"Which part? Micah or Miss Roth?"

John pondered this, chewing his mouth. "Micah's bad, because I feel like I'm apt to lose myself and just go on after him, say fuck it and throw it all away," he said slowly. "I've been looking for him a long while, Sadie, pretty much since . . . well, since Arthur. I've felt real . . . real raw about it. But I couldn't do too much, with Abigail and Jack around. Felt helpless, I guess, and angry that I couldn't do more. Sometimes I worry I wasn't as kind to Abigail and Jack as I shoulda been, because I felt that way."

Sadie watched him, her hips rocking with her horse's gait. "And what about Rane?"

John shook his head, his dark hair in his face. He let Arthur's hat fall back on his neck, exposing his clear forehead, and the long, vivid scar that ran down his face, caught in violent contrast by the setting sunlight. Sadie thought, for the first time since she'd met him, that he looked old and weary indeed. She'd always seen him as a bit sophomoric in ways, a flaky, sometimes doltish young man who had reached adulthood without completing the necessary levels of childhood first, but she didn't feel that way now, as she eyed his profile. He seemed aged a decade by the past few years; sadder, somehow, and more austere, no longer the sportive, occasionally hotheaded young man he once was.

"Sadie, I'll tell you a truth that I ain't never uttered to nobody, ain't hardly a day gone by that I haven't thought about her," he admitted, very low. "I hoped after a couple months she'd leave my mind, but . . . hell, sometimes I don't know myself no more. I can't hardly recognize myself. She's never far from my mind, even while I'm asleep. Sometimes I still . . . well." He sighed, flushing a little. "I believe I been becomin' a problem to myself, is all."

"Hell, John." Sadie reached out and touched his shoulder gently. "Don't go blamin' yourself for that."

"I ought not be thinkin' on a girl I thought was dead goin' on three years now, Sadie, not after we spent such a short time together. Especially not as I'm a married man."

"Well, John, I hate to break it to ya, but people ain't created perfect." Sadie was frowning, feeling a little out of sorts. "Nobody can blame ya for how you feel. It is what it is. Even Arthur musta told you that. Shit, I bet he balked like hell about feelin' for that girl. You boys, the way you were raised up, it just didn't come natural, is all."

"Yeah, well." John scoffed, looking at his hands on the reins. "I love Abigail, Sadie, but I wonder sometimes if maybe . . . shit, I dunno . . . maybe I shoulda just tried harder to court her back then. Maybe things might have ended differently if -"

"Now hang on before you start down that way," said Sadie, suddenly brusque. "That kind of thinking don't do nobody any good, least of all you. Abigail and Jack, they're what you got now. Rane might be alive and she might not, but either way she ain't for the likes of you. Think about it, even if she did want ya, Arthur ain't been underground but three years and he loved her damn near to death. What about him? What about Jack? There's all sorts of trouble with that kind of thinkin'."

John sighed, rubbing his face. "I know it. I feel foolish."

"Listen here a tick." Sadie slapped his shoulder, drawing his dark, ashamed gaze to her own. "I want you to be a part of this, John, but I ain't takin' you with me if I think you might go all to pieces when - well, if we find her. I like to think you're a little older and wiser than all that these days. Ain't ya? Or was I wrong to come lookin' for you?"

"No, you wasn't wrong. I shouldn't have even said nothin'."

"If we find her, are you gonna mind yourself and act sensible?"

John cast Sadie a slightly affronted look. "Of course I am. Christ, I ain't twelve."

"Ain't ya? You weren't twelve when you clocked Arthur in the mouth after you saw him with her at Shady Belle that time, either, so you'll forgive me for making sure."

John scoffed, looking injured. "Fuckin' hell. That wasn't quite the same thing, was it?"

"Just - don't do nothin' stupid, is all I'm askin' ya." Sadie was watching him. "I wanna get that rat motherfucker, John, and I want Rane with us to do it, but I sure as fuck ain't trying to make this some kind of a penny dreadful in the meantime -"

"Oh, will you please shut the hell up?" John muttered, rolling his eyes. "It's been three damn years, way you talk you'd think it was last week -"

"Big talk comin' from the feller who ain't lost a day thinkin' about her, by his own tellin' -"

"Why don't we quit talkin' about my pining after Rane and start talkin' about what we're gonna tell Abigail, huh? And I sure as fuck hope you don't care to mention none of what I just told ya to her," he added, glancing at Sadie. "That's the last damn thing me and her need right now, is more trouble between us."

"Well, even though I don't think Abigail's as blind to it as you might think, I ain't gonna open my mouth about none of that shit, no," said Sadie wryly, snapping the reins and smirking. The light was deepening around them, a fiery indigo now, setting the distant horizon into a blazing silhouette, the low-slung trees and brush wavering in the gentle breeze and the clouds hanging near the sky bleeding red and pink. "What are you gonna say to her, John Marston? You think she's gonna kindle to this thing?"

John laughed, low. "Of course she ain't. She's liable to fight me all the way to the ground over it. Especially if she knows we're apt to go lookin' for Rane on top of everything else."

"You gonna lie?"

"No, I ain't gonna lie to my wife, Miss Adler." John pulled a smoke from the pack in his breast pocket and hung it from his lip, jutting his lower jaw a little as he popped a match alight and lit it, the brief ember glow of the flame igniting his features. "I am, however, gonna gild the fuck outta the truth if that's what it takes to keep her bedded down for this."

Sadie snorted. "Marston, you ain't changed as much as you might think."

"Well, maybe I ain't, at that," said John, smirking a little. "Come on. I wanna get back before nightfall."

ABIGAIL Roberts was sitting on the steps of the little hacienda when Sadie and John rode into the dooryard, her knees together and her hands clasped on the lap of the dress she wore, a yellow shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She got up at once and made for John, snatching at her skirts, bending and grabbing the lantern that had rested on the stairs beside her. Even in the dim light of the late sunset, John could see the harried, halfway-to-being-pissed expression on her face, and steeled himself for a diatribe as they drew near to the hitching post.

"Hoo-wee, she don't look too happy with you!" Sadie murmured, smirking. John cast her an unsmiling look from horseback.

"You ain't exactly makin' me feel any better, you know -"

"John Marston!" Abigail crowed, holding the lantern high so that it shone directly into John's face as he dismounted, tying Rachel. He blinked against it, lifting an arm. "Where in the hell have you been all damn evening? You said you'd be back before nightfall -!"

"Well, it's nightfall, ain't it? Would ya get that light outta my face, please?"

"It's night, ya damned idiot, not nightfall! Nightfall means the night's fallin', it ain't called night-fell!"

"Okay, well then I'm sorry I ain't back by curfew."

"You oughta be! Who's that with you?"

Sadie stepped into the lantern light, tipping her hat. "Hello, Abigail."

Abigail's angry, exasperated expression seemed to drop away in an instant. She lifted the lantern a little higher.

"Sadie Adler? Good lord, is that you?"

"Well it ain't Lord Tennyson." Sadie accepted Abigail's awkward hug, laughing. "Ain't it good to see ya in one piece, honey."

"How the hell'd you find us? What are you doin' here?" Abigail glanced at John, her accusatory expression returning for a moment. "John, you knew about this? And you didn't warned me? The house is a damn mess, I ain't in no place for callers, I coulda at least cleaned up or -!"

"He didn't know 'til this morning, Abigail, and even then I didn't let on all the way it was me," said Sadie quickly, waving a hand. "And I didn't want to come by unannounced, I know all of us from the old days like to keep a low profile anymore."

Abigail nodded, glancing between Sadie and John, clearly trying to decide how much of this diatribe she believed. After a moment she offered Sadie a smile.

"Well, come on inside, I got coffee, or somethin' a little stronger if you want it."

"Ma'am, that'd be mighty nice, if your husband ain't opposed," said Sadie, smirking up at John. He was standing with his arms folded, frowning down at the dirt, not looking at either of them. He looked to Sadie like nothing so much as a young kid who was about ten seconds away from getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar and receiving the scolding of his life.

"I don't mind it none," he said, tipping his hat low and striding hastily past them both towards the little cabin he Abigail and Jack shared some ways off. "Gettin' cold out here."

"Oh, Lord, I sure don't like that look," Abigail muttered, watching him lope off with a furrowed brow. "I seen it plenty times before."

Sadie shuffled her boots in the dry dirt, taking her hat in her hands and looking around. Abigail eyed her a trifle suspiciously.

"And I guess whatever I'm about to hear I got you to thank for, huh?"

Sadie cleared her throat, gesturing. "Come on, I wanna see that young'n of yours."

Jack was indeed a sight for sore eyes. Three years had stretched him right out, from the chubby, rosy-cheeked kid he'd been in '99 to the taller, leaner one that rushed into Sadie's arms as she walked into the cabin. His hair was longer now, had grown coarse and dark as midnight, and Sadie could see the pared jawline and crooked smile he'd inherited from his daddy right off the bat.

"Holy God in heaven, would you take a gander at this kid?" she remarked, sweeping him up into her arms. It wasn't as easy as it had been three years back, surely enough, and her back gave a little twinge of protest as she lifted him up. "Jack Marston, you're about ten feet tall, young man! I bet you're riding a grown man's saddle by now, ain't ya?"

"Pa got me my very own pony!" Jack told her merrily. "He even showed me how to ride him a little bit -!"

"Well, we started workin' on it, sure," John amended a little tersely, taking a heavy seat at the little wooden table in the center of their cabin. "Horsin' is a long lesson. Why don't you go catch some fireflies or somethin', Jack, so me and your mama can talk to Aunt Sadie?"

"But I thought I wasn't to be out past sundown, Pa?"

"You ain't, but I'm giving you a furlough, so go on."

"What's a furlough?"

"Means permission. Go on, now, I said."

Jack glanced at Abigail, looking positively chuffed. "Can I, mama?"

"Oh -" Abigail glanced at John, looking a little reticent, then sighed and flapped a hand. "Yeah, go on, child. Stay close to the farm, don't you go wanderin', you hear? And remember what I told you about not strayin' past the fence."

"Yes, mama!" Jack was on his feet and flying out the door in a flash, the thudding of his footsteps fading as he fled into the late dusk, giggling. Sadie and Abigail watched his retreating form until the screen door banged shut behind him.

"I don't like him out there past sundown, John, there are wolves and such," Abigail muttered, drawing a chair back at the table and taking a seat, looking wistfully toward the door. "He's still so wee, though."

"Oh, shit, it ain't like he's runnin' off to the woods, he's right outside," John said, leaning back. He held a steaming cup of coffee in both his hands, and Arthur's hat was hung on the back of his chair. It never strayed too far from his side, Sadie suspected. "Wolves don't come down off the mountainside this time of year anyways."

"That boy's gonna be one handsome man one day," Sadie remarked fondly.

"Well, right now we're just tryin' to make sure he gets far enough along to find out." Abigail shifted her weight, her eyes darting between John and Sadie. "Now what's this all about? If this is about another goddamned job you wanna do -"

"No. Sorta. Not exactly. We - well -"

John struggled, glancing at Sadie for help. She leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table and meeting Abigail's eyes.

"Okay, Abigail," she said slowly. "I need you to try to keep an even head about this while I tell you. I don't mean you wouldn't normally," she added quickly, holding both hands out as Abigail opened her mouth to retort, "I just mean they might come as a little bit of a surprise. Okay?"

"Go on, I ain't makin' promises I can't keep," said Abigail suspiciously, eyeing her.

"I found Micah Bell," said Sadie. "You remember Micah, don't ya?"

Abigail watched her for a long moment, her eyes cold, chewing her mouth, then leaned back, folding her arms, and turned her gaze to John, who was leaned over the table, looking at his clasped hands as if fascinated by them.

"John, you care to tell me what Sadie's talkin' about?" she asked in a deceptively light tone.

"Well, she said it," said John, looking profoundly uncomfortable. "I just found out myself about an hour ago, Abigail, i'm just as surprised as -"

"Micah Bell? You said you was done with all that!"

"Well, it ain't that simple, just forgetting all about what happened, Abigail! Shit, I knew Arthur since I was eleven damn years old, you really expect me to just put it all away?"

"For the sake of your wife and your son? Yeah, I sure do, John! We been round and round with this, must be a hundred damn times by now, and still here I sit listenin' to you fixing to run off outside the law some more -!"

"Abigail, we wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Arthur! We'd all be dead!"

"Yeah, and you're gonna honor his memory by runnin' off after the feller that got him killed? You think he'd approve of that?" Abigail was watching John with angry eyes. "You think he'd want you riskin' your neck for that sack of shit? Just to prove somethin' to yourself?"

"You know, I don't rightly know, but I'd sure feel better if I found out, Abigail," said John roughly, his voice rising a little. "And now that we got the help to do it -!"

"Help to do it? The hell do mean, the help to do it?" said Abigail sharply.

"Rane Roth," Sadie admitted. "I'm pretty sure I found her too."

"Rane Roth?" Sadie looked dismayed. She shot an accusatory gaze towards John. "I thought she died with Arthur all them years ago?"

John hesitated, his face flushing a little, all the piss and vinegar running right out of him. Sadie could have clapped a hand to her forehead. "Well, Sadie reckons she ain't."

"How you figure that, Sadie Adler?" Abigail said, turning her sharp gaze to Sadie. "Why are you even botherin' with lookin' for her in the first place, is a better question?"

"Sadie, she pulled your ass out of the fire more than once, as I recall, and John's too," Sadie admonished her.

"Yeah, and I paid for it for years," Abigail retorted heatedly. "Answer me, how you figure she ain't dead?"

"I heard tell of her huntin' bounties up north a little ways. If we can get her on board, we can give Micah what's comin' to him."

"Which you couldn't do alone, certainly not."

"Sure we could," Sadie said. "But it'd be a hell of a lot easier and safer if we had her there to help us, Abigail, you know that as well as I do."

Abigail cast John a cold look. "After all the trouble she caused you, I'm surprised you're even entertaining this, John Marston."

John struggled, mouthing silently. "She saved our lives, Abigail, a bunch of times! Hell, I'd have been hung at Sisika if she hadn't -!"

"But that ain't why you're itchin' to rush off with Sadie and find her, is it? Ain't hardly even to do with Micah, is what I think." Abigail was watching him, her gaze hard and a little hurt. "That torch you carry is still lit, ain't it? I always thought it might be."

John sighed, his head rolling on his neck, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Sadie set her coffee mug down, looking at Abigail and clearing her throat pointedly.

"Look, Abigail, this don't have nothin' to do with John," she said slowly. "Micah's tough as a boiled skunk, you know it as well as I do, and I'm willing to bet it won't be just him by hisself that we're gonna be dealing with. We need somebody else who can fight worth a damn. And she's got an axe to grind with him same as us," she added, her voice lowering a little."Abigail, you know about her and Arthur. How you think she felt after he was gone? You think she bounced right back and made her peace? Because I sure as shit don't. I bet you remember how short that girl's fuse always was."

"I'm sure I don't know nor care how she felt, Sadie Adler," said Abigail with a touch of hauteur.

"Well, I think you do know, because I saw you standin' in the road weeping for John when you thought he was shot dead on that train job," said Sadie, low. "Rane lost her man the same way you thought you'd lost yours, and whether you like her or not, that kinda hurt . . . hell, I can tell you from experience, it's the worst kind of feeling," she added, a little brusque. "Now it ain't fair to lose all your humanity just because she pissed you off a couple times before -"

"She didn't piss me off, she run off with my husband and -!"

"It don't matter about her and John!" Sadie interrupted her, suddenly harsh, her eyes hardening. "It don't matter! One goddamn measly night? Christ, you wanna start casting stones about that, after how you came into the gang and saw every last one of 'em into you bed with you, Arthur included? 'Scuse me for sayin'."

Abigail flushed scarlet to the roots of her hair. "How dare you say that to me in my own h-?"

"Well, it's so, ain't it? You gonna say all those things about Rane after what she did for you and your family, maybe you oughta shine some of that light on yourself, ma'am."

Abigail lowered her head a little, her brow furrowing, then drank deep on her coffee. John was watching her, leaned back in his chair.

"You know the way they found her, them Pinkertons, don't ya? John ever tell ya?"

Abigail glowered up at Sadie, looking decidedly less hospitable now. "No, I cannot say that I do."

"She was gutshot by Micah. Blood all over the damn mountainside, they said it looked like a slaughterhouse floor. Them Pinkertons, they found her layin' beside Arthur's body, huggin' him to her, crying and bleeding out. They left her there to die in the cold next to him, ten, fifteen miles from the nearest town. And it seems that she still somehow managed to keep on fighting. You say what you will about her," Sadie added, a little gruff, "but she deserves some credit for that, if it's true, and she deserves to have a chance to see that fucker into his grave for what he done to her and to Arthur. That's what I think, and that's what John thinks too, though he ain't gonna say it for fear of angering you anymore."

Abigail watched Sadie a moment longer, then sighed, shaking her head and burying her face in her hands.

"God damn the pair of you," she said, muffled. "When are you leavin'?"

"Right away," said Sadie, glancing at John. "Tonight."

"Then go," said Abigail, not looking up. "Send my boy back inside while you're out there, I can't bear to lose another one of mine."

John touched her shoulder gently, feeling outlandishly out of sorts. "Abigail -"

"Go, I said," Abigail snapped, still not looking at him. "Get the hell outta here. Since I can't stop either of ya and nothin' I say is gonna make a lick of difference, just like usual."

Sadie, seeing her cue, got up and hitched up her jeans.

"I'll get him home safe Abigail," she said softly. "I surely will."

Abigail said nothing.

"This is the right thing, Abigail," said John quietly.

"GO ON!" Abigail shouted suddenly, glaring at him. "GO ON AND GO!"

John looked at her a moment longer, pained, then he and Sadie strode out of the little cabin and out into the night.