So, I'm giving you guys an extra chapter today because this is the one year anniversary of this story! I want to thank everyone who is reading this story, especially for all the comments you've written. Can you believe you have been tortured by this fic for a whole year?

Of course, this chapter is basically all angst. That sums up how the year has been, right? Don't worry, you still have a chapter coming on Wednesday night/Thursday morning, depending on when I'm done editing. And I'm pretty excited about that one...

Thank you again!

Chapter 52: Loss

He was lost in a layer of fog, dragged down by pain and fear and confusion. He couldn't get his eyes to open, didn't even know if he wanted to see what was going on, couldn't remember what happened to make him feel this way.

He remembered his father, though. Holding him. Talking to him while his shoulder burned.

Then, nothing. For a long time.

When Isaac woke up, still muddled but aware of his surroundings, there was a pillow under his head and a pile of heavy, warm blankets covering his body. People shuffled around him, paper scraped against paper as someone flipped the pages of their book. A hand fell across his forehead, checking his temperature and brushing back some of his hair.

"How was he last night?"

Was that Susan? Sounded like her.

"Better," another said, his voice thin and rasping. Tired, like he'd been up for too long. "Not awake yet, but soon, I hope."

"Good. Are you alright, Mr. Matthews?"

"My back hurts from this chair. Mind watching him a bit? I need to stretch it out."

"Of course."

Shuffling and footsteps. A groan as someone got up. Susan and Hosea changed places, and Susan squeezed Isaac's hand. "Good morning, sweetheart. How are you this morning?"

Talking seemed like too. Isaac let out a sigh instead.

"Isaac?" Susan said, suddenly hopeful. "Are you awake?"

What the hell happened?

He furrowed his brow as he tried to work through his memories, or lack of them. But he kept coming back to his pa telling him to run, right before everything hurt.

"Mr. Matthews! Come back!"

Isaac winced as the shout hit his ears.

"Sorry, sweetie," Susan said.

"What are you shouting about?" Hosea asked.

"I think he's waking up!"

And now, Isaac had to open his eyes. Or at least try. With Susan and Hosea encouraging him, he finally managed to drag his eyelids up. His family were just two blurry outlines, but they both seemed so relieved to have him awake.

"Take it easy," Hosea said, hovering over Isaac as his eyes drifted around the tent. "Don't move right now, alright? You've got a lot of healing to do."

Was it another bear attack? That didn't sound right. He could remember that, felt those scratches almost immediately. This time, he was disconnected from his body.

"Do you feel okay?" Susan asked.

Isaac nodded. He played with the soft, wool blanket in his right hand. It didn't seem like his own.

"Hey, Isaac," Susan said, squeezing his fingers again. "Are you okay?"

"Swanson just gave him some morphine," Hosea answered instead. "We should try to get him to drink and then let him rest."

"I know, but… I just…"

"Feel funny," Isaac said, finally getting his mouth to work.

Hosea and Susan snapped back to him so fast it made Isaac dizzy again. "Sorry, son. That's probably the painkillers," Hosea said. "It's good to hear your voice."

Hosea slid one hand under his head to tilt him up while the other held a cup. Isaac wasn't ready for the lukewarm water to hit the back of his throat, and he coughed before remembering to swallow. It did help ground him and soothe his throat.

"What happened?" he asked. "Where's Pa?"

Hosea and Susan exchanged a look, but Isaac was still too out of it to understand the meaning.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"What do you remember?" Hosea asked gently.

"I… I don't know," Isaac said. "We were going to visit Hamish."

"Yeah, you were heading that way," Hosea said. "Then what?"

He frowned. "We camped near Emerald Ranch, I think, and we…"

In a rush, the morning in their camp came back. The O'Driscolls surrounding them, dragging Isaac out of his tent and hogtying him before he even had a chance to fully wake up. Pa getting hit over the head. The O'Driscolls laughing at his wooden leg and then dragging them both onto the backs of horses. Pa untying him and telling him to run before-

"Breathe, Isaac, it's okay!"

Hosea was pulling him into a hug, cradling him against his chest while Susan rubbed his back. Isaac only managed a few gasps and hiccups before he started to sob. He was home and safe!

"We've got you, son," Hosea said. "I know it's been hard, and I can't imagine what you've been through, but you're back with us. Colm and all those O'Driscolls are dead, and you're safe!"

Isaac nodded into Hosea's shoulder. The two gunshot wounds were starting to ache through the morphine from the sudden change in position, but he didn't want to let go just yet. "Is Pa okay? Can I see him?"

He felt Hosea and Susan shift awkwardly, neither answering him. And Isaac cried harder.

"Is he dead?"

"Isaac, I'm real sorry," Hosea said. "We don't know what happened to your father yet. Not entirely, anyway."

"But he was there!" Isaac said. "He was with me. He told me to run, but they…"

Isaac shuddered. It happened so fast, and after, everything was still just blank.

"You were trying to run when they shot you?" Hosea asked.

"He said I had to get help."

"I'm so sorry, Isaac," Susan said. "We got the boys out looking, but… I'm sorry."

Isaac kept crying until he no longer had the energy for it. He vaguely noticed Susan and Hosea laying him back down and pulling the blankets up to his chin before he fell asleep.

They were still there when the first nightmare hit.

Isaac was numb to the comings and goings of camp. In the brief instances where he was awake, either abruptly from the ghosts of O'Driscolls or naturally, someone was always with him to coax him into drinking or even eating a little before tucking him back into bed. Susan and Annabelle were present the most after the first day, sometimes Abigail if she could find someone to occupy Jack.

They had him in his father's tent. He knew why. It was more spacious and private, it had a comfortable cot. It still felt wrong, like Pa couldn't come back while Isaac was in there.

On top of the ache and anxiety caught in his stomach at all times, his shoulder hurt. Bad. They'd slowly backed off on the morphine during the week, and now weren't giving him any. It wasn't good to stay on morphine for too long, they said. But now, the pain kept him from sleeping well.

Between the nightmares, anyway.

His dreams weren't even clear. Just the same sense of fear and dread, the reminder of the pain and Pa shouting. It felt worse not knowing exactly what happened. The mystery caused him imagination to run wild, especially with most of his family absent while they searched for his father.

Annabelle was sitting with him when John finally trudged in with bags under his eyes and half his shirt covered in mud and blood.

"Don't let Susan see you in here looking like that," Annabelle warned, but John waved her off. All the tension left his shoulders when he saw Isaac sitting up on a mountain of pillows and Cain curled up in his lap.

"Hey, kid!"

"Hey, Uncle John," Isaac said.

"Sorry I didn't visit sooner, I… uh…"

John glanced at Annabelle, and she said, "He knows."

"I was out trying to find your pa, but… we didn't find anything new. I'm sorry."

Isaac kept scratching Cain's ear. He'd grown used to hearing no news.

"But we did get some O'Driscoll stragglers. A few less of those bastards in the world, at least."

"Good," Annabelle said. "Where did you go?"

"We found a camp of theirs in the Heartlands. A crew that always hit stagecoaches near the pass. I don't think they even knew Colm is dead," John said.

"Mr. Marston!" Susan shouted from across the camp. "You'll get that boy sick again! Go wash up!"

John stood up and ducked his head sheepishly. "I'll be back."

"Okay," said Isaac.

Annabelle smiled at John as he left. "It's good to have you here."

"Yeah, I figured I'd spend some time around camp," John said.

Cain barked and hopped off the cot to follow John. Isaac closed his hand around nothing.

"You ready for some lunch?" Annabelle asked.

"Where is Charles?" Isaac said instead. "And Dutch?"

"They're out near Blackwater," Annabelle said. "It's one of the places we think your father might be."

"They're going into Blackwater?"

"Sadie is. The law doesn't know about her yet, so she can go in and out of the town without a problem. I think that was the plan, anyway."

"If they find him, then what?" Isaac asked. The gang had avoided Blackwater ever since that ferry job because there were too many Pinkertons and bounty hunters patrolling the area. It frustrated many members of the gang, since so much money was left behind there. Especially Micah, who only briefly shut up about it when Isaac first got back.

"We'll figure that out," Annabelle said. "If he's in Blackwater, we'll get him."

"And if not?" Isaac asked.

"We won't stop looking," she said. "Now, how about some food?"

"Okay." He wasn't going to get answers yet, no matter what. Might as well get some food.

While Isaac waited for Annabelle to return with some stew, or more likely some broth since he was still a bit queasy at times, Cain came trotting back over with Sean right behind him.

"Hey, kid, long time no see," Sean said, flopping into the chair Annabelle just vacated. "I've been out riding so long, you woke up on me!"

Isaac wasn't sure what to do with Sean's cheerfulness. Even Cain was looking at him funny.

"So much has happened, don't even know where to begin. I was on my way back from Valentine, you know, putting the ol' MacGuire charm on some folk to get information. Anyway, I see this wee feller walking down the road. Foreign chap, asked me if I was down on my luck and tried to offer me a loan. I robbed him, of course. Too easy. Got quite a bit of cash. But that's not what's important."

Sean turned away from Isaac, fiddling with something in his pocket. When he turned back around, he had a pair of glasses on his face. Tiny, round glasses that didn't line up with his eyes at all while the frames strained to fit around his face. Isaac's jaw dropped.

"Now, I know what you're going to say, but I tried looking at a book, and I could see the words better! So I was thinking-"

Isaac snorted.

"Hey, they don't look that bad!" Sean tried saying, but Isaac was quickly falling into laughter. "Okay, fine, these are terrible. But the point is- stop laughing!"

Isaac couldn't. "Who wears glasses like that?" he asked.

Sean wrapped an arm around his shoulder and chuckled along. "I don't know, but he was a moron. A loan shark, I think. I certainly didn't mind taking all his money. I could buy something nice with it."

"Better fitting glasses," Isaac said.

"The point is, I could see the words better with the glasses on. Mr. Matthews said he'd take me into the city sometime to see an opt… opt-something. I don't know, some sort of doctor. Get actual glasses that fit my eyes, but you were right! I did need them."

Isaac stopped suddenly, feeling guilty for forgetting, even for a second. Sean noticed the tears building, and he said, "You know, if I get my glasses, I bet I'll be a better shot than ol' Arthur Morgan when he gets back. We'll have a competition."

"You'll need to learn how to shoot while being able to see, first," Annabelle said, returning with a bowl in her hand. She gave him a few pieces of meat and vegetables this time.

"How hard can it be?" Sean asked.

"Well, you do sometimes manage to hit things with your bad vision," she joked.

Isaac just leaned into Sean and listened to him and Annabelle bicker. Maybe it was selfish, but it was nice to feel normal for a little while. When Annabelle rolled her eyes and left, Sean stayed. He pulled out a knife and started whittling. Then, Lenny came in with a book and sat down on his other side for a while. Just keeping him company.

They finally let Isaac out of bed with his arm bound in a sling, and he wandered out to see the horses. He settled against Apollo, who rested his head on Isaac's shoulder. Boadicea wandered over as well, her ears pricked when she recognized Isaac.

"I'm sorry, girl," Isaac said to her. "I don't know if he's coming back this time."

No one said it to Isaac, but he knew. He saw the disappointment whenever someone returned to camp with no news.

"Hey, kid."

He didn't bother turning around for Hosea. The older man sighed.

"I know things have been hard lately, but I brought a visitor. I thought he might be able to help out a bit."

Isaac didn't care at first. Until Apollo perked up and whinnied at his other Dutch Warmblood friend. "Buell?" Isaac said, just before he saw Hamish himself.

"So, the horse gets a hello, but I don't?" Hamish said, and Isaac popped up so fast that Hosea had to grab his arm as the spots appeared in his vision.

"Hamish!"

"Good to see you, kid," Hamish said. "You know, I didn't think I'd ever find myself down in the south again, but your friend Hosea had a pretty convincing argument. How are you holding up?"

He almost lied, and then said, "Awful."

"Yeah, I figured. Come on, let's go see if there are any good fish off that pier."

"I can't fish right now."

"But I can! Come on!"

Hamish's presence proved to be a boon for Isaac. Hamish didn't ignore or shy away from his pa being missing and possibly dead. They talked for a long time about some of the friends Hamish lost along the way, and how he tried to remember them. Isaac shared that the hardest part was not knowing exactly what happened.

"They ask me about it, sometimes," Isaac said. "Like, maybe I saw or heard something about where Pa is, but I didn't."

"And you only have what that outlaw said," Hamish replied.

"Yeah." Isaac sat with his own journal open in his lap. He didn't use it very often, but he wanted something to do with his hands, and just sketching mindlessly seemed to be it. "It's not even fair. We just live with Dutch and Hosea. My pa didn't rob anyone!"

Hamish nodded. "I know Arthur was worried about things getting complicated with the gang. That's why he wanted to visit with you. And possibly stay for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Uh, here," Hamish said, fishing a letter out of his bag.

The first half of the letter was a confession, really. His father's history with the gang, who they were, what he did before Isaac was born. The second half was a request to hide in the mountains for a while to keep Isaac safe.

"I guess it didn't work," Isaac muttered, folding the letter back up. "We should have stayed in camp."

"Hey, Arthur didn't know. How could he?" Hamish said. "He did what he thought was best for you. Just like every parent does, I imagine."

Hamish kept fishing until after dark. Like always, Susan herded Isaac to bed early while Hamish opened a bottle of whiskey with Hosea. But Susan went to talk with Tilly about something, leaving Isaac awake and alone for the first time in days.

He lay for a moment, unsure what to do, before he pulled out his pa's journal.

They'd given him all his pa's things. The hat he gave Pa right after he moved in with the gang. The pelts piled next to his trunk. All the things in his satchel, including the journal.

His hand hovered over the cover as he considered whether or not to read it. Reading it seemed so… final. Like he'd confirm his pa's death by simply looking.

Isaac sighed, about to put it away, when his eyes landed on the drawing of his mother. He was so tired of crying, but he could feel it building again. Right when Charles stumbled into the tent, looking ragged and dejected, the first tear fell.

"Isaac," Charles said when he saw him. "I… I'm sorry I haven't been around. I'm sorry."

"Did you find him?"

Charles ducked his head. "No. We didn't."

"He's gone, isn't he?" Isaac said. "No one knows where to look, so he's probably gone. Right?"

"Isaac-"

"I lost Ma and Pa!" Isaac said, and Charles wrapped him up in a tight hug. "I don't want to be alone."

"You won't. I promise you won't."

"I don't even remember her," Isaac cried. "Not really. I have this picture, but I was only four when she died. Is that gonna happen to Pa, too?"

"I don't know," Charles said. "I wish I could tell you everything will be okay. I… I don't know if it will help, but… I'm not sure how to say this."

Charles breathed in deep. "I lost my mother when I was young. And my father… I don't know if he died after I left or if he's still alive. I don't remember everything, but I do know the important things. How much my mother loved her people and some of the stories they used to tell. That my father, even if our relationship was complicated, loved her and me. I think you'll remember what's important, too."

Isaac stared at the picture, letting the shape of her face and softness of her eyes into his head. "Ma always knew when if I stole some snacks before dinner. I always thought I was sneaky, but she knew."

"Mothers always know," Charles said.

"She made me a stuffed bear and always tucked it in with me at bedtime," said Isaac. "I stopped playing with it so long ago, I don't even know where…"

But he had a guess. Pa kept a lot of his extra things in his trunk when he moved in with Sean and Lenny. Isaac flipped the lid open and started digging, pulling out clothes and old journals until he found the box with his name on it. And there was the bear, worn and smaller than he remembered, but still familiar. He hugged it tight.

"You won't be alone," Charles said. "Everyone here cares for you. And whenever you want to talk or go for a ride or just want someone there with you, you can always ask me. I'll be here."

Isaac sniffled. "Thanks, Charles."

"You're welcome."

Isaac knew that Charles being back meant they'd hit a wall and given up on finding his father. But for the moment, Isaac was just glad to have Charles home.