Chapter 24 – Abigail Roberts

"Would you hold still for me, please?" you pleaded with John. Your eyes strained as you tended to the cuts on his face in the dimly lit tent. He grinned slyly at you, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his hands around your waist. You couldn't really resist his playful charm, even as you rolled your eyes at his teasing. "I'm almost done," you assured him.

"Good," he replied, stealing kisses on your neck. "Now, can I make love to you?" he asked suggestively. You felt your face flush with embarrassment at his bold inquiry. "John, I'm trying to help you here," you scolded him, but he just laughed it off.

"Hey you should thank me, y'know. I did a fine job on these." you said, gesturing toward the scars on his face. It was just really an excuse to get a closer look at him. Despite the bruises and cuts, he was still undeniably handsome, his ruggedness only adding to his appeal. You couldn't help but be drawn to him even more. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence and an air of mystery, or maybe even though he seemed aloof and standoffish to others, you knew that he was warm and caring with you. You had seen him laugh and joke around when it was just the two of you, letting his guard down in a way that he didn't do with anyone else. Whatever it was, you were grateful to have him by your side, scars and all.

"That you did, and there ain't a day I ain't grateful, ma'am," he said earnestly, looking deep into your eyes before gently planting his lips on yours. You got lost in the moment, giving into his playful kissing and teasing, barely noticing John had already started undoing the buttons on your shirt. "Wait, John. Let me clean up first." You snapped out of it. He smiled at you and let you be for a moment.

You were hesitant to leave your tent, as you didn't want to deal with the curious looks and knowing smirks from the others. However, you also didn't want to start fooling around with all the blood and grime that had dried up on your hands. Fortunately for you, it was already a little late after supper, and most of them had retired to their usual nighttime activities. The campfire was still burning though, and the loud snores, most probably Uncle's or Bill's, resonated through the camp. The indistinct chatter of the ladies could be heard from a distance. Other than that, it was eerily quiet, especially without Javier's melancholic guitar playing.

You made your way across the camp to the water barrel by Pearson's station and started to gently scrub away the dirt and grime from your skin. Just as you were about to be done, the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby interrupted you from your thoughts. You turned to see who it was and saw Abigail by herself, she held an opened bottle of whiskey in her hand.

"Oh, hello, Abigail. Didn't see you there." You greeted her, trying to hide your nervousness.

"What are you up to?" Her voice slurred slightly.

"Just cleaning up a bit," you replied, hoping to diffuse any trace of tension between the two of you. 'She knows. Of course, she fucking knows. The whole camp knows.'

"I see," Abigail said, taking a few steps closer to you. "You know, John talks about you a lot."

Your heart rate quickened at the mention of John's name, and you tried to keep your expression neutral as Abigail continued.

"He seems a little… preoccupied with you lately," her eyes narrowed.

You felt your face turning red as you struggle to come up with a response. You didn't like where this conversation was going.

"I know that John is a complicated man, [Y/N]", Abigail continued, her tone serious and resolute. "Sometimes it feels like he cares more about himself than anyone else. He's never been there for our son the way he should have been."

"We're just good friends, Abigail" you felt a lump form in your throat, and your lie left a sour taste in your mouth.

"Of course you are," Abigail scoffed. Her gaze lingered on you for a few moments, her eyes searching yours. You tried to hold her stare, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes. You thought she had more to say, but she hadn't.

As Abigail turned to leave, you realised you were out of breath, and a surge of guilt washed over you. You tried to regain your composure before heading back to your tent, but your mind was racing. Your heart sank as Abigail's words played over and over in your head. Amidst the excitement of your trysts and clandestine rendezvous, you know well for a fact that John still had a lot of things to sort out with Abigail and Jack – that poor boy, Jack.

You feigned a weak smile at John, who was now lying quite comfortably on the bedroll he had laid out for the both of you.

"Took you long enough. Everything alright?"

"Yes." You replied almost instantaneously.

His expression softened. No, everything wasn't alright. John had known you for a while now, and especially since the start of your more intimate encounters, he had become even more adept at picking up on the subtle hints and nuances in your emotions. You were an open book to him, your thoughts and feelings laid bare.

"You sure?" he probed, hoping you could at least talk to him of all people.

You nodded. He sat himself up as you eased next to him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe not right now, John." You said flatly. John felt a pang of hurt, but he knew better than to push you. He watched you close your eyes, and after a few moments, your breathing evened out as you fell asleep.

John sighed softly and leaned back against his bedroll. He would give you the space you needed, but sadness lingered in him. He hoped he could be someone – other than Javier that is, you could confide in, but it seemed like that was not the case.

You drifted on and off from sleep. The memory of your conversation with Abigail earlier haunted you, and you couldn't shake off the unease. You felt John stir behind you. You stayed still as he slipped his arm away from your waist. You kept your breathing steady, still feigning sleep, as he made his way out of your tent and into the darkness. You heard him rustling around the camp in search for something.

Feeling restless, you slowly opened your eyes and sat up, taking a deep breath. You rubbed your eyes, trying to clear your thoughts. You knew he was giving you the space you needed, but the weight of his absence hung heavy on your shoulders.

After successfully scavenging for cigarettes and matches, John made his way toward the lake. The moon reflected on the water, casting a serene glow. John's silhouette appeared small and solitary against the vast expanse of the lake. Sleep eluded him as he thought of you, his fight with Javier the day before, and the hurtful words his friend had hurled at him out of anger and spite.

Javier was one of the good ones – the loyal ones. They had been brothers for the longest time, and to see him so angry at him unnerved John. For Javier to say all those things, did he really think so low of John? He had made many mistakes in the past he admitted to himself, and he wasn't proud about any of them. As he looked at the dark expanse of the lake, he wondered if he was doing right by you, because god knows he didn't do right by Abigail and Jack.

With a heavy heart, John flicked the cigarette butt into the water, watching as it sizzled out. He stood up and made his way back to camp, hoping to find something, anything that would bring some clarity to his troubled mind.