The sun had just set, and it made the cold even more unbearable, unforgiving. You walked as fast as you could as far as your shivering legs allowed you. Your teeth chattered.
The cabin where everyone came to gather for warmth, company, drinks and food (if there were any) was just across John and Abigail's. As you neared the cabin, the voices inside grew louder. They were voices you've grown quite familiar with for the last couple of months.
You let yourself in, hoping Mr. Pearson got some relatively decent meal for everyone this time.
"Good evening, Ms. [Y/N]." Reverend Swanson acknowledged your presence. Mary-Beth and Tilly too.
"How is he?" Hosea approached you.
"He's okay. He'll live. That is if the cold doesn't get to him first." You told him grimly, making sure Jack didn't hear you.
Hosea nodded in agreement, being bitterly reminded of the situation that Dutch got everyone in this time.
"Well thank you for taking care of Johnny Boy, [Y/N]. We don't know what we'd do without you." Hosea gave you a pat in the back.
You were definitely in a better mood after dinner. To your sheer delight, Mr. Pearson was able to prepare some venison stew for everyone – a relatively decent meal by Colter standards. Charles was able to hunt some deer earlier. "Thank god for Charles!" You thought.
Contented with your dinner, you headed out. You were looking forward to getting some reading done before a good night's sleep. You heard half-drunken voices nearby. You could discern Javier, Arthur, Lenny, and Uncle's voices and hearty laughs. You could also hear Karen.
Ah, they are drinking again. Good to know they are in a better spirit tonight – Arthur and Javier finding John was one small win they needed amid all of these.
You were tempted to just head there and join them, but the promise of a good book, your bed, and some semblance of warmth under the blankets was safer and the more convenient for the introvert that you are.
Javier caught sight of you as you walked past them. He stood up from his seat and tipsily beckoned for you to join them. He was normally friendly with you. You've always felt comfortable around him.
"[Y/N]! Join us! It will help with the cold!" He hollered. The others chimed in. You weren't so much for socialising, but they were good people, mostly. To this day, you are still very much grateful for Dutch and Arthur coming to your rescue when the O'Driscolls put a bullet in your father's head after torching his clinic and for the rest of them who gave you a home and second chance at a family (albeit a dysfunctional one).
Javier was right. Whiskey and bourbon now seemed more enticing than being alone in your bed. "What the hell", you shrugged and joined them. Javier offered the empty seat next to him. He clumsily prodded your leg with a bottle of whiskey as you sat down next to him. You accepted it and thanked him, taking a rather big swig before passing it to Uncle. You attempted to conceal your wince, as Javier and the rest cheered you on. The liquid instantaneously warmed your throat and chest then much to your liking. For a moment there, you felt good and it was quite nice.
You got more talkative as the evening grew darker. You were never much of a big drinker, but you did enjoy good company on occasions.
You didn't realise that you were on the verge of drunkenness when you decided to call it a night. You stood up, tried your best to balance yourself, Javier stood up too, as if on reflex, albeit unsteadily. He braced to catch you as if in anticipation you were going to lose your balance and fall on your bum, but you succeeded and was able to stand up straight. You and Javier sniggered, amused at the state of your drunken selves.
He insisted you take one more swig of whiskey, "One for the road." He encouraged you.
You beamed a wide smile at Javier, snatched the bottle and chugged once more. You closed your eyes, as you gulped down the fiery liquid. With that, you waved him good night.
"Adios, Javier." Your speech slurred, patting his chest.
"Buenas noches, Señorita!" He gave you a bow, amused at your drunken state and thankful for accepting his invitation.
You bid the others goodnight, much to their dismay. You started on your intoxicated journey to your cabin. Your feet crisscrossed as you navigated through the snow – so far so good, but your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute.
Not long after you have left the group, you heard Abigail, calling you from their cabin.
"[Y/N]! [Y/N]!" She ran after you, ignoring the cold. You stopped on your tracks and turned to face her. Your world slowly starting to wildly spin around you.
She smelled the strong smell of whiskey and cigarettes on you and hesitated for a bit. She then proceeded to explain "John's burning up. I don't know what to do. I am so sorry for asking this, but could you just drop by real quick to check on'im?"
It took you a few seconds to fully process what the woman in front of you was babbling about.
Ah, John Marston, you thought. Here you were just minding your own business, but still he manages to pull you back in – back into this… this whole mess called John Marston. Idiot, John. [Y/N], the bigger idiot! An internal monologue ran in your intoxicated mind.
You knew there was no point saying no to Abigail. She's just going to beg you again.
"Errkay, Ms. Roberts." You nodded (which was a bad idea because that made your head spun wildly again). She took your arm and steadily led you back to their cabin.