A/N: Okay, uh. My mom had the bright idea to go to a concert in another city to see a concert. She didn't get vaccinated for Covid or even the flu. She came back, and now guess who's infected? Me? Oh, no. It's not just me.

IT'S EVERYONE IN THE HOUSE.

So, yeah. I think I'm justifiably salty. At least I now have some ammunition the next time I get in an argument with my mom. Lol

Anyway, if there is sloppy writing and errors more than usual, it's because I'm sick and had like zero energy to go back and edit.

O'Driscolls.

Sam looked about as shaken up as the day Arthur found him in his house. He had killed so many of them, stolen, robbed and killed them, but as he held Sam still in his panicked flailing, all he saw was that frightened young man with blood dripping down from his head and past one of those shining eyes.

All too quickly it faded, and his concern shifted when Sam held up that letter.

Dutch.

It's always been Dutch for Colm O'Driscoll, that vindictive bastard.

And now, another innocent woman's life was at stake.

Arthur waited until Sam was calm, before they packed up their things from the room and left. Then they rode around for a bit, making sure they weren't being followed before going into the camp.

The first thing Arthur did was drag Sam to the tent he shared with Lily. Then he went to Dutch.

Lily had been staring at the sky, watching for any doves, when Arthur entered camp with Sam rubbing his head. She ran to the tent to take care of him.

She got some cold water for the pain and grabbed some sugar to help the swelling on the side of his head go down.

"Does it still hurt?" Lily bent down to look at his face, pushing his face up to look at him, the tips of her fingers under his chin. His eyes weren't dilated at all, so there was thankfully no concussion.

"A little…" Sam spoke, softly. Lily looked down at his lap. He was still clutching the envelope in his hand.

Molly walked towards Dutch's tent. She needed to talk to him. This distance was getting ridiculous. He was asleep before or after her, never wanting to go to bed together, eat dinner, or anything. She swore he hasn't even looked her in the eye for about a week.

When she got there, Arthur was talking to him and he sounded somewhat frantic. Dutch had closed the book he was holding, finger still on the page he had been reading.

He stood up as Arthur concluded whatever he was saying, almost as quickly as Arthur had rushed to his side.

"Where is he?" the gang leader asked. He and Arthur started going towards Sam and Lily's tent.

"Uh, Dutch?" Molly asked.

"Not now, Molly!" said Dutch. He walked past without even looking at her. "Sam!" Dutch practically zipped to the young man, who was holding his pocket watch. "Are you alright, son?"

Molly scoffed and walked off towards the lake, almost biting back tears. Meanwhile, Sam explained everything that happened.

"Rose?!" Lily said, covering her mouth with her hands.

Dutch growled. Threatening an innocent woman… Well, Rose wasn't technically innocent, but not involved in whatever was going on between the two gang leaders. Colm would always stoop so low to get what he wanted.

But was he any better with that girl…?

"Did you read it?" said Dutch.

"No," Sam answered. "I was nervous they would know if I did. But,they seem to know I'm in cahoots with Brandon, the man who can find anyone or find out about anything. They wanted him to find you, so he probably doesn't know that I'm here with you."

Dutch tore into the envelope. What the hell did Colm want? The letter had very neat handwriting, which was in contrast to the man Colm was.

Sam, Arthur, and Lily watched in silence while Dutch read through the letter.

"Boss, you alright?"

Dutch's face soured as he read on. Arthur's face did too as soon as he saw Micah approach the tent.

"What'chu want Micah?" said Arthur.

"A man can't be concerned about his gang leader and friends?" Micah said, arms out to the sides.

"I think you're even creepier when you're nice."

"Enough!" Dutch snapped. "Both of you!" He lowered the letter in his hands.

"What does it say?" said Sam.

"This can't be from him," said Dutch. "A parley? Colm O'Driscoll?"

"He wants a parley?" said Lily.

The older man tightened his grip on the letter. "Has he lost his goddamn mind?"

"It's my fault," Sam said, grabbing his hair. "Maybe I set them off with all the men I killed in his gang."

"And I don't think Cornwall and the Pinkertons are only coming after us," said Micah.

"So, he kidnapped Rose and gave Sam a message to find Dutch?" said Arthur.

"Probably so Dutch can't refuse," said Sam. He looked at him. "Right?"

"Of course," said Dutch.

"They want a parley?" Hosea called. He was sitting at a table, just outside. "It's a trap."

"Well of course, it's probably a trap…" said Micah, "but what have we got to lose by finding out?"

"Getting shot," Arthur answered.

"We ain't getting shot because you'll be protecting us."

"No!" Sam then almost shouted. "Are they really going to follow through, even though they already kidnapped someone to get our attention? We have to go to Brandon, and find a way to save Rose ourselves."

"But if there's a slim chance that they're telling the truth…" said Micah. "It's like you always say Dutch, do what has to be done… but don't fight wars ain't worth fighting."

"This isn't your war, Micah!" Sam fought back, sharply. "This is mine. You want to parley with the people who took everything from me?" He stood up. "If you parley, and if some slim chance this is true, you're asking me to stop pursuing them, as well. I can't give up the hunt!"

"This ain't about you, pipsqueak!" Micah chided, poking Sam in the chest. "This is about peace for the gang. And everyone knows that it requires sacrifice."

"It's the whole reason we're out here!" said Lily.

Micah laughed. "No, you're out here, because you owe Dutch your favor."

"Revenge is a luxury we can't afford."

Dutch remembered those words, clearly. There were things Colm did that were unforgivable. But so had he.

Sam had a fire in his eyes, ignited by his anger towards Micah and what the stakes were implying.

"I made my choices and I'll deal with the consequences, because I agreed to not put this gang in danger," said Sam.

Even Dutch thought it was okay to go back on his words of wisdom.

"Maybe for once, we may be able to…"

But now another woman's life was hanging in the balance.

"We did what we needed to survive. End of discussion."

Dutch rubbed his temples. "I killed Colm's brother… long time ago…" He glanced at Sam who had stopped glaring at Micah to listen to his leader. It wasn't his fault, but those silver eyes the boy had, weren't helping, "then he killed…" He thought he'd have to bite his tongue to not say her name, "a woman I loved dear…"

Sam was in pain. Dutch knew this, but he had to think about the safety of the rest of the gang. Would killing Colm really give him the peace he was looking for? Would finding the man who killed Sam's uncle give Sam the peace he was looking for?

And above all else, regardless of Rose being in danger, there was no way she could have predicted this happening. Dutch still didn't know why she kept Sam a secret straight to the grave, but…

She would've wanted him to keep Sam safe.

"As you say…" Micah said, his voice low, "it's a long time ago, Dutch."

Arthur hated that tone. It was like a snake whispering into his mentor's ear.

Dutch nodded, his gang members looking at him like children, awaiting their parents' advice. A silence hung in the air.

The gang leader took a deep breath.

"Let's go…" He pointed at Micah. "You and me, with Arthur protecting us…"

"Dutch!" Sam almost yelled. "Don't put Arthur… I mean, don't put yourselves in danger for my actions."

"If you go, they'll know you're with us!" said Dutch. "This is Colm O'Driscoll, not one of his lackeys. You're not ready to face him."

"It won't matter if this parley actually turns out to be true," said Sam.

"I'm trying to keep you safe!"

"I don't need it!" said Sam.

"You're not going!" Dutch then yelled. "That's final!" Sam flinched and was scared silent. "I'm not letting you get shot over this. We're going, and if I hear you've set one foot outside of camp, I'll shoot you myself!"

Sam lowered his head. "Arthur…" His voice was soft and almost went unheard. He was scared, but it wasn't about Colm, or the bastards that grabbed him in the middle of the night. He genuinely felt like this was his fault.

Back then, Arthur would have found the way Sam was acting pathetic, but now it was different. Was it because he wasn't just thinking about himself this time?

"I'll be fine…" Arthur said, the way his voice rumbled sounded reassuring. "I promise." He followed Dutch and Micah out of the tent, kicking himself for lying.

Because he was just as nervous.

Sam could only watch helplessly, as Dutch, Arthur, and Micah mounted their horses and rode off. He looked up, his fears only intensifying as he saw dark clouds gathering overhead.

Dutch, Arthur and Micah ride out towards New Hanover. The location was in a field a few miles away from Valentine. Arthur took off to a cliff, sniper rifle at the ready, and had his horse hide a few feet away from the cliff.

At first, Arthur just got out his binoculars to scope out the scene. Micah and Dutch were on the ground level first. They dismounted their horses and walked out and it wasn't long before they had company.

It was Colm O'Driscoll. His attire… was actually very similar to Dutch's, except the front of his vest was black instead of red. He wore a green handkerchief. And his hair was long, but it was gray and unkempt. It didn't even look like he ever washed it. Accompanying him were two of Sam's targets: the Laslow Brothers. Rose was riding with her hands bound. They yanked her off the saddle and dragged her towards the scene. Arthur put down his binoculars, and got out his sniper rifle.

"Hello, Dutch…" Colm said, with a wave. "It's been a while."

Dutch never thought he would ever speak with Colm again on civil terms.

"Sure."

"So, uh… how's your gang? They still believing in you? Better world… pure world, hmmm?" Colm rested his hands on his gun belt. "How's that coming along?"

"Just fine," Dutch responded, flatly.

Colm thought for a moment. "How's that score you stole off us?" he then asked, sharply.

Dutch kept staring dead on. "Which one?"

And the O'Driscoll cracked a smile and laughed. "Oh, I like that. It's like I said, this a charismatic leader." Once he calmed down , he took a step forward. "Lot of heat on us, this time. Both of us. They offered me a price, Dutch… to bring you in."

Dutch squinted. "Why didn't you take it?"

"Well… still might."

It took Dutch all the energy he could muster. Still, he managed to say the words.

"I am… sorry about your brother."

Colm shook his head. "Yeah, well I never liked him much."

Dutch wasn't sure how he was astonished, but he was. Colm's grudge for all these years had nothing to do with the love of his brother. It was just plain spite.

She raced through his mind as well as the child that was left behind.

"I… liked… Annabel."

"You always loved the ladies, Dutch van der Linde," Colm said with a smirk. "I like that about you."

"What are we doing here, Colm?" Dutch asked, his brows furrowing. "Is this thing over?'

Arthur had been listening, their voices kind of quiet from where he was perched. He suddenly heard the grass being crushed. Just as he turned around, he was met with the back end of a rifle to his face.

Sam awoke with a start, a strike of light waking him with the loud rumbling it made. He was still in his tent and assumed that he sat there for so long after his argument with Dutch, he fell asleep.

It was getting dark. Where the hell were they?

Sam lowered his head into his hands as another quake of thunder made itself known. The rain began to fall. Even so, Sam stared at Arthur's empty tent, the sloppy mess of a dreamcatcher hanging over his bed.

Sam was… sick, as his uncle would say it. However, he never thought he could love someone the way Lily did because of it. Yet, here he was, concerned for Arthur's safety, because he…

What if he was overreacting? What if everything went fine and they were on their way back with Rose right now?

Still, Sam couldn't shake off this feeling of dread. What if he left, only to find out everything was fine? He'd get shot for nothing.

As another rumble of thunder echoed through the camp. Sam tightly shut his eyes, his mind reliving when his seven-year-old hands reached to the bedside of Aunt Violet, his twelve-year-old hands reaching to his uncle when he almost died looking for his mother, who was already dead, and his current hands towards his uncle in those last moments before that sickening gunshot.

Somehow, in this moment, his need to continue his conquest for vengeance was being muffled. His grip tightened on the cot's frame. He was helpless to save his aunt, his mother, and his uncle. That night in the saloon meant something to him. Violet, his mother, and Cliff meant something to him. Arthur meant something to him.

He couldn't stand by. He had to fight.

Sam stood onto his feet, gathering all of the Wolf's Bane and hid it away on his person. He didn't know how to Lily, so he just left his hat on the table. He pulled out his blue coat from under his bed and finally put it back on, after all this time.

Sam wandered out. He waded through the rain walking up to Aurora. Just as he placed his hand on the horn of his saddle, he looked back at the camp before him one more time. Then he hopped onto his horse and rode off before the guard switch.

So, like. How is Annabelle's name spelled?! I swear, I've seen it written as "Annabelle" and "Annabel" IN THE GAME! Ugh...