The warm and white sand of the beach felt as though it were holding him in a tender embrace. It was soft, fine, and soothed his aching body with its radiant heat. The bright tropical sun was obscured from his face by his hat as the waves crashed along the shore in front of him. The sweet smell of plumeria, gardenia, jasmine, and the salt of the sea. He felt as though he could taste these scents as he inhaled through his mouth with a relaxed sigh. This was paradise, but how long would this last before he woke up, back in Blackwater.

'Darling.' Ah, it was her voice, again, calling out to him from just out of his reach, he thought as he lowered his hat from his eyes. Blocking out the sun but looking over at the shaded coconut palm near where he lay. She would be here but he wouldn't be able to touch her, his hand would slip right through her if he tried and she'd run away from him like she did nowadays. She was afraid of him now, though she hadn't been when she had been living and breathing, when she had been his woman.

She was seated in just her underdress and though the shadow made it difficult to see through, he could see the cool breeze had hardened her nipples and made her arms goosebumped. She was reading, as she always did in life, quietly turning the page of her book before glancing over her literature at him. God she was still so beautiful, even in his dreams, just the way she had been since he met her when they were young. Yet she would be unreachable and untouchable until the day he took his last breath.

"I know this is just a dream, Annabelle. You're not really here, are you?" He rolled over onto his side, the sand shifting as he propped himself up with an elbow and stared at her longingly. It was always the same, whether he was dreaming or awake, she wasn't real. But how he wished she could be, just one more time, and hold her tightly in his arms again.

'You know I want to be there, for you…and for them.' She put her bookmark back on the page and slowly closed her book, setting it in her lap a moment to look down at her hands over the cover.

'I couldn't let you sacrifice yourself for me. You know that, don't you? You know why I had to lie to you. I know you're angry with me, Dutch. But you have to understand I couldn't let you follow me into the afterlife. You will come home to me one day, but not for a long time, sweetheart. You need to stop poisoning yourself to try to join me earlier than you should. You have John, Arthur, Hosea, and Susan still–let me rest in peace, darling. Just temporarily.'

"You should've run like I fucking told you to do, I begged you to run, but instead you stupidly stayed behind because you 'promised' you would never leave me. Like the fucking idiot you are. I trusted you. But you lied to me anyway. You betrayed me! And every day it makes me question whether or not you really even loved me at all. I hate that. Doubting you. Doubting your loyalty and love for me, but how am I supposed to feel, Annabelle?" He sat up now, staring out at the turquoise blue waters beyond them.

"You didn't need to lie to me, sweetheart." He continued, "you broke my heart, Belle. You were the last person I ever expected to hurt me like this. Now the only time I can be with you is the occasional dream or when I see you out of the corner of my eye. Even in this dream world, I can't hold you, I can't touch you, and it drives me mad. I want to touch you so fucking bad. But you're dead, gone, and the worms have eaten you and your bones by now leaving nothing but wildflowers to mark where I buried you. You told me to live, but I died when you did, beloved. Or did the consequences of your actions that day never cross your fucking mind? You left me to die alone and I have been dead ever since, Annabelle. And you have the gall to tell me to apologize to you for what I'm doing just to try to get through this without you? If I could touch you, I would strangle you and kill you again." Dutch snapped, coldly glaring at her as she refused to look up at him for a long while as she chewed her bottom lip in thought.

'What the hell are you talking about, Dutch Van der Linde?' Annabelle rose from the shade of the palm tree, tossing the book aside and slowly stepping towards him in the light. Kneeling in the warm sands next to him. 'You always had a flair for the dramatic. I'm right here. You're not alone and you're not dead. Don't you feel me sometimes? You can touch me, but only if you'd realize it has to come from here.'

She placed a hand over his heart for a moment, pushing him back down into the sand as she climbed on top of him. She brushed stray black hair behind his ears gently, cupping the side of his cheek in her palm as she stared lovingly into his eyes.

"I can feel you, of course I can feel you. But, Belle I can't—" He began but stopped as she grabbed his hand in hers and placed it against her own cheek. It was solid, he could feel her warm flesh under his fingertips and he gasped in surprise. He could feel her. He wanted to cry but he smiled instead, he could touch her. She hadn't left him. The idea of strangling her regardless of his rage and despair seemed stupid, childish, and disappeared entirely as he tried not to completely break down.

'Come back to me, Dutch. This fucking opium bullshit has to stop. I am sorry I broke my promise to you and I'm so sorry I hurt you by leaving the way I did. But what else could I do, Robin Hood? Let us both die? We had a family to look after. Your boys, my sister, your friends…the gang is the only family that we were ever going to have other than each other. Don't let me down, Dutch. You never did before.' She smiled as he realized he could even feel the throbbing of the vein in her neck with his pinky. He snarled, but not because he was angry, and she seemed to know that. 'Oh my darling, how I wish I could've stayed with you in the real world. I hate seeing you like this, unable to do anything except sneak out of Hell from time to time to see you. What are you doing, my love? Collecting pawns for the board so you can crush Colm? I was just a means to an end once for you, Mr. Van der Linde. Remember? Don't throw the love and loyalty people are willing to give you away. You know better than that.'

"Once. I was a fool. I am nothing more than a wild, insane, lowly beast, Belle. But you domesticated me, the way you gentled Byron on account of your hellion of a horse being a right bastard to me. And…I don't know that I can keep pretending I'm a gentle lamb when we both know who I really am. I am heartless, cruel, savage, and a liar. That's who I really am. Why did you choose to love me, Belle? I know you told me, but humor me, tell me again." Dutch murmured as the woman leaned down to kiss him for a while, the couple wrapping their arms around one another and rolling in the sand for a moment.

God he had longed for her, and her warmth, the feeling of her skin on his, and the softness of her lips. He wanted to break down completely, lose himself in her like he once did, but he doubted he'd have time enough to do so. No, he would awaken at some point, probably at the worst time he possibly could too. Alone, grieving, fiending for the next fix, and trying his best to take care of the 'family' she insisted he needed to look after. Even if he didn't know if he could actually care about any of them sometimes. He wanted to, hell he tried to, but he wasn't sure if he could.

'You never would let me compliment you, I guess you still won't, although it's honestly annoying. Other people could flatter you and you relished it, but when I would tell you why I loved you…you refused to believe it. You are gentle. You are generous. And kind natured. And loving, tender even, well when you want to be. But,' she rolled out of his grasp and sat up, 'you're a fucking miserable asshole. You're impatient, narcissistic and egotistical, you have a violent disposition, and a short temper. I never asked you to apologize to me for being that way either. So why do you continue to try to say you're sorry for your true nature? You were willing to keep your promise of being authentic with me, well…when you weren't anxious about something. I hated it so much when you would try to hide from me even though I loved you, in spite of yourself. I loved you, why can't you let other people do the same, Dutch?'

"I never deserved you or the love you had for me. That's why. I'm not some misunderstood villain who if given the chance to 'see the light' would take his opportunity at redemption. I don't want to be redeemed. I want to be remembered. You loved me even though I tried to kill you many times. I could've killed you. There were times I desperately wanted to. You annoyed me. You're still annoying me even in death, Annabelle. You're fucking heartless leaving me here alone. With people who talk shit behind my back and eye me with pity, like I'm a goddamn lunatic." Dutch sat up, gently wrapping his arms around her as she pensively looked out at the sea before leaning against him and wrapping him up too.

'The thing that takes my shape and my voice isn't me, Dutch. It's you, you know that don't you?' She murmured, the breeze whipping her tight curls into his face for a moment and he went to brush them back to kiss her and ask what she meant.

"Annabelle—" he was awake again and he felt a couple tears he had shed in his dreaming slip past his cheeks.

"How is she, Dutch?" It was Susan who slept beside him tonight in the hotel bed, curled up against him naked as he exhaled mournfully and shifted away from her. She let him go as he rolled over to face away from her and didn't try to squirm back towards him as she propped herself up on the pillow.

"She's cross with me. We were bickering over asinine bullshit. I'll apologize to her when I see her again." Dutch grumbled, propping up to adjust his pillow before settling back down.

"She has every right to be cross with you right now. Carrying on the way you are over her when she's been gone for almost four years now. We won't survive as a family like she wanted if you don't pull your head out of your ass." Susan sat up to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and slid the glass ashtray onto the bed they shared.

"Is Mr. Ming going to survive his injuries? In your opinion?" Dutch asked as he heard Susan strike a match and could smell the tobacco smoke as she exhaled. He didn't want to talk about Annabelle right now, Susan would understand of course, after all they had become sisters in the end. In love with the same miserable asshole. The mothers of his boys.

"I don't know. But I will try to ensure he can't join her in the afterlife any time soon. What do you want to do with O'Shea? It seems like Trelawny wants to be the one to take the reins on that part. I don't think I've ever seen him like this, have you?" Susan lifted the cigarette to her mouth but didn't take a drag as Dutch shifted under the covers for a moment before joining her in an upright position. He gestured for the lit cigarette and she handed it to him, as he took a small drag and exhaled through his nose.

"I don't know. I just want Colm O'Driscoll. Whether those two sorry sacks of shit live or die, I don't care. But Colm, that's fucking personal. Josiah can do whatever he wants. Honestly I didn't expect him to be a brutal man, he might even be worse than me. But the quiet ones usually are the craziest." He took another drag and held out the cigarette for her to take.

"You'll get him. Once you set your mind to something, you pursue it to death–" Susan realized how Dutch might take the subtext as she took the smoke from him and quickly took a drag, lowering her voice and unable to look at him. "I didn't mean–"

"It's alright, Sue. I know what you meant." Dutch replied quietly, pushing his arm behind her and pulling her close to him but he didn't look at her.

"I…oh I don't know how to put this to you." Susan exhaled only to take another quick and long drag and held the cigarette out for him.

"Just say it." Dutch mumbled, taking it in his fingers and taking a drag himself.

"I met someone. While we were waiting for you to come back to us. He…he saw me in town today. We write letters here and there, it was just a fling at first–" Susan felt silly for even being nervous about trying to explain her situation to Dutch. It's not like he gave a fuck if she bedded other men. I'm not Annabelle, I'm just the whore you occasionally replace her with.

"Let me guess," Dutch sat up and leaned over her to stamp out their cigarette, "he would like it if you would be his woman."

"Yes." Susan replied, putting her hands over her face for a moment and trying to run her fingers through her hair. She was surprised when he embraced her, pushing her hands away from her face and tenderly kissed her forehead. He clutched her to him, running his hands through her long dirty blonde hair.

"Is that what you want?" Dutch whispered as Susan wrapped herself around him as well.

"Maybe? I don't know and that scares me. There was a time, a long time ago, I hoped you would've asked me. Even though I knew you wouldn't. Even she knew, she caught me looking at a wedding dress once like a fucking idiot and called me out on it. God she was such a little bitch, Dutch. But she loved you and you worshiped her and I knew when she came to camp that you two would eventually figure it out, I'm not stupid. I know there's nothing between us and that this, occasional fling is just to keep your fucking bed warm because she can't. But," Susan pulled away and put her hand on his chin, "I still love you. In my own way. She isn't here to protect you but I am. She would've wanted me to."

"Don't. I don't want to owe another woman my life. Go be with your beloved Susan. That's what she would've told you to do." Dutch slid her hand from his chin and kissed her knuckles softly. "I will be alright without you."

"Bullshit. Besides," she pulled her hand away from him and folded her arms, "someone has to keep the whores in line and make sure the boys are being looked after."

"Whores? It's not like I'm bringing back–" Dutch laughed but Susan stared at him coldly.

"Yet. Other than Abigail and I, there are more pricks than there is snatch at camp. Well, except maybe Mr. Williamson. He's queer as they come, I know you know that he eyes you the way he should be eying that new girl, but surely his disposition makes you uncomfortable?" Susan raised an eyebrow and Dutch rolled his eyes and let her go, flopping back down onto the bed.

"You know he attempted to seduce me when he was trying to rob me? I don't think I slept that night when I offered him salvation in the gang. Worrying about him trying to…look, I need the numbers in the gang if I'm going to stand a chance against Colm O'Driscoll. You, Hosea, Arthur, John, and I aren't enough to beat him. I…appreciate the other members of our little family, but, I'd be lying to you if I said I actually gave a shit about them. It's not for a lack of trying either, I just…can't mean what I say to those other people. You know me, you and my actual family, but them? They're just pawns to me. I know I'm a fucking monster, Susan, but I almost feel…sorry for them. It's what Annabelle was bitching about at me in my dream, that I'm not actually invested in keeping my promise to her." He ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes.

"Dutch, we lived by a code once upon a time. Or did it die with her that night? You, Hosea, Arthur, and I lived by a code. Hosea and Arthur have suffered a significant loss too, though it is sad to see Mr. Matthews trying to go about his grief the way you do. You two need to get right, remember the code, and keep moving forward." Susan sighed as he pulled his hands across his face and kept his eyes shut.

"Maybe? I don't know. I just want to settle the score with Colm. I can't forgive what I cannot, for the life of me, ever forget. I know you don't approve of my self-medicating habits, but I fucking need it. Otherwise…" Dutch exhaled loudly and dropped his arms to his chest, folding his hands over one another as though he were lying in a casket. "I remember every little detail. I can understand why Hosea drinks himself to death these days, because I am doing the exact same thing for my own reasons. It was barbaric what they did to her and coming from me, that should tell you something about just how traumatizing it is."

"How did he do it? You talked about it today but it's the first time you've ever told any of us. Will you tell me?" Susan murmured, putting her hand over his.

"I, sort of, told John. But she was his mother and I owed it to the boy to tell him how she met her end. I can try, but…it was not a peaceful death, Susan. He…fuck," Dutch pulled a hand away to smooth down his own hair and gripped her fingers tightly, "she mouthed off to him while he was raping her in front of me. You know how annoying she could be sometimes, and I guess she thoroughly annoyed him. They had me tied up, watching him tear into her like a fucking dog. He crushed the child in the womb, I think, pulling her up by the belly and squeezing her like he was trying to force the child out of her. It was the only time she screamed in pain during the entire incident, she called my name, like I could do a goddamn thing about it. Next thing I knew, the floor was covered in amniotic fluid and their blood as the next man took his fucking turn. And I couldn't do a goddamn thing to comfort her in that moment, except look at her instead of them, as she looked at me with all that love and sweetness. That part, really fucking kills me, knowing she loved only me until the bitter end. That night, despite being weak and exhausted from bleeding for an eternity, she found a knife and crawled to me in her bindings to free me. Knowing she was already dead. The only reason I'm not dead along with her is because she insisted we run away instead of letting me slit that motherfucker's throat while he slept. Knowing she had me wrapped around her goddamn finger."

"Fuck." Susan had started crying at some point, covering her face with her hands and bawling as Dutch continued to lay face up, numb and indifferent as little flashes of that event came back to him. No, I don't want to remember right now.

"That's why I can't stop doing opium, Sue. It makes me forget, just for a little while. You can understand, can't you? It's why that vagabond hangs out doing morphine and drinking himself to death in camp. To remind me how fucked up I am, deep down. He got my heart and lungs started again after I died of an overdose, well…that's what he claims anyway. But I think–" He began and Susan put her hand up to his mouth to silence him.

"Then don't let her down anymore. If she wanted you dead, you would be, remember?"

—-

"Dutch is gonna be pissed." Arthur shook his head as he and John stared down at the corpse of Ming, who had decided to take the same knife used to geld him and spill his guts all over the floor.

"How did he…Arthur, we tied him up good and tight. I know we did." John removed his hat and started pacing the floor of the spacious living room, frantic. Dutch is going to be more than pissed, Arthur. He wanted to say. He had let Dutch down, even though he promised himself when the man gave him the knife to take his revenge that he would never fail him again.

"How the hell should I know? It was supposed to be your watch!" Arthur hissed, gripping John by the shirt collar and snarling at him.

"Bullshit! You went down to the lobby bar, I saw you sneak out! You're trying to get me killed, you know he has a temper!" John snarled back, wrenching Arthur's hands off his collar and shoving the larger man.

"Listen here, you little shit…" Arthur growled, stepping towards John again angrily as John tried to shove him away again but he didn't budge.

"Well," Susan had opened the door for Dutch who strode into the room and immediately spotted Ming's corpse on the ground as he rolled down his sleeves, "so much for that."

"Dutch, it's all–" John and Arthur said at the same time, glaring at one another and snarling at each other like a couple of junkyard dogs. But Dutch responded by waving his hand and rolling his eyes, stepping past Ming and sliding his hand between them. His palm gently pushed John away as he nudged Arthur with a hand from behind his back to separate them.

"Enough boys. What's done is done. We move on, we keep going forward, like we always do. You two are my sons. Brothers. Family. And I expect you two to be civil with each other the way family ought to be," he waited to continue speaking as both of them backed away from him but continued grumbling at one another, "now…if you two are quite done acting like a couple jealous hound dogs. Arthur, dispose of Mr. Ming, please. And John, help your brother by cleaning this shitstain's viscera and blood off the nice floor of our humble accommodations, please."

"Yes, Dutch." John snorted, still focused on Arthur even as the boss separated them.

"You're such a suck up, Little Johnny Martson." Arthur scoffed, earning him a rather irritated look from both Susan and Dutch.

"Enough, son. I won't have discord in my ranks. Miss Grimshaw and I are going out for breakfast. When you finish tidying up the place, we'll be down the street." Dutch made a humming noise briefly, though truly it was more of a soft growl, something he had stolen from Annabelle and made his own. She often made a similar noise when she was cross with John, and John seemed to recognize and understand its meaning right away as he immediately went to grab his bedsheets to lay on the floor for Arthur to wrap Ming in.

—-

"I'm taking O'Shea with me back to Saint Denis. Granted, in pieces of course, but he did write to his sister like he said he would. A rather lovely story I might add, rather than a ransom. Said he was 'making a change' and wanted to meet her in New York, asked her to bring him some capital from Mummy and Daddy in secret. I guess his family wrote him off a long time ago when he went from hired guard to drug lord's right hand man. I will write to you when the girl sends me a letter with the details of where and when she'll be able to come to this side of the continent." Trelawny had lit a cigarette but didn't look at Dutch as the dark haired man took a sip off of his coffee mug and set it back down on the table.

"I thought we were going to be patient, Josiah." Dutch raised an eyebrow and snorted, reaching into his pocket for a cigar.

"You let the boy get revenge for his mother. You may have been her husband, but I was her family, Mr. Van der Linde. Surely Colm O'Driscoll is a greater prize for you than poor Mr. O'Shea." Trelawny hissed, giving Dutch a sideways glance before puffing on his cigarette again angrily.

"I didn't say I was upset about it. I was teasing." Dutch replied coldly, he was agitated again, nervously tapping his foot as he felt the nausea come on again. Just give me the fucking laudenum, Josiah.

"I suggest you and Susan take a vacation for a while. I gave you the last of it yesterday. Miss Grimshaw, I suggest looking up Dr. Yannick. He relocated here a number of years ago. Retired really, but he and Dutch are familiar with each other enough that he might be willing to help your beau kick his disgusting habit." Trelawny tapped his cigarette in the ashtray and exhaled loudly as Dutch lit his cigar and chewed on it a bit as he puffed on it.

"Is this a fucking intervention, then? You get your hands dirty once and you think you can talk to me like I'm some kind of child, Josiah? Is that it?" Dutch growled, exhaling smoke through his nose.

"I will slap the shit out of both of you if you don't quit it," Susan grumbled, "what would she say to either one of you right now, huh? Her husband and her cousin bickering like a couple of whores over who loved her more. Shame on both of you."

"You're right, Miss Grimshaw," Josiah tipped his top hat to her as he took one last drag off of his cigarette and stamped it out, "but he needs to pull himself together. You promised her you would take care of the family she left in your care, and I hope for her sake you can be more man than beast."

"I am trying to, Josiah. I am fucking trying. She left me a goddamn widower. How would you fare if your wife died in your arms and left you with your two sons to raise on your own?" Dutch hissed and Susan shoved his shoulder, he snapped his attention to her as his eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth at her and growled. "Don't you start."

"No, Dutch, don't you." Trelawny had produced his revolver and shoved it under the table in his stomach. "You will get clean. You will father her child. And you will make Colm O'Driscoll suffer for what he did to her. Am I understood, sir?"

"Crystal clear, Mr. Trelawny." Dutch gritted his teeth and Trelawny removed the cattleman revolver. He's quick, I didn't even realize he knew how to wield that goddamn thing.

"Boys!" Susan waved over at Arthur and John who had walked into the restaurant and they both turned in the direction of the table that the three of them were seated at.

"It's done." Arthur grunted as he pulled out a chair next to Susan and John sat next to Trelawny, folding his arms and scowling a bit. "I could've done it myself, you know."

"Arthur, I swear to God, if I have to hear you whining about John, I'm going to tan your hide. I've had enough. You two are going back to camp. Susan and I have business to attend to and we will join you in a couple weeks." Dutch huffed, rolling his eyes a moment before rubbing a temple with his free hand as he took a couple puffs off of his cigar.

"I can help you." John eagerly offered but Dutch set the cigar down and folded his arms with a cold stare at the young man.

"No. Not this time. This is a private matter between Miss Grimshaw and I. Understood?"

"Dutch–" John groaned but Dutch slammed his hand down on the table, earning the restaurant's attention momentarily.

"I swear if you are about to scold me about not being faithful to her, I'm going to take you out back and put a bullet in you, boy. I loved her. And I will never stop loving her, John. Go. Back. To. Camp. Please. I'm not going to ask again."

Because she would be fucking pissed I've become some poppy addled junkie. Don't push me, John, only she could do that to me without consequence. You may have her sharpness, her softheartedness, and her sheer stubbornness but you are also my son. Don't you ever forget that. She left you too, the way she left me.

'Dutch…'

Fuck off. You're not her. She told me all about who you really are. You might have her voice and her face, but you are not Annabelle. You're just a wretched little demon who wears her skin to torment me. And I am quite done being tortured by you. So, fuck right off. Whatever or whoever you are.

'I will never leave you, I promised…'

"Arthur, you and John best get over to the general store and get some supplies for the long journey ahead of you." Susan broke the silence to dig through her purse to retrieve some money.

"Miss Grimshaw, I'm a grown man now. I can take care of my little brother," Arthur glanced over at Dutch bitterly, "right, Dutch?"

"I will see you both back at camp in four weeks." Dutch replied quietly as he took another drag off his cigar and exhaled through his nose. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, whether I like it or not I guess.