Chapter 2
Multiple times, Javier had thought about what the hell was he doing. Dutch sided against Arthur and John back at Beaver Hollow. It wasn't... regret that he had in killing Micah on the mountain. The man had been begging for a bullet for a long time. Siding with Dutch didn't meant that he was siding with Micah.
If he had to choose between Arthur and Micah without Dutch being there, he knew what he would have chosen.
In a heartbeat.
But still, he felt the call of "traitor traitor traitor" ringing in his mind. He could abandon Arthur's body here and now, could just play idiotic, pretend that going against Dutch for a moment of doubting taking over wouldn't taint his soul.
Micah being a rat or not, from Dutch's perspective, Arthur was the rat, even if that was untrue.
Dutch obviously wanted the rat, his brother a lifetime ago, dead.
The man was barely hanging on. It was like his will to survive was what kept him alive at the end of all of this. At this point, if he and John had just some more goddamn faith, they could be off, possibly in Tahiti.
Still, Javier found himself beating on the man's chest. At one point, it seemed like he stopped breathing, but he slapped his face right and left until he coughed. The Mexican turned away in time. He didn't know if Arthur had something that was contagious, but he wasn't taking any risks goddamn it! If Dutch found him, Javier would already be dead, and so he would deserve it because nursing back Arthur to life would be the end of it all!
But... he still loved the cabrón.
It made him weak. It made him incapable of aiming his gun at them for ten long seconds, seconds before the Pinkertons came after them.
"Come on, ese, almost there," Javier encouraged his horse who began to slow out of breath. He didn't know where to go to be honest. But Valentine was the safest place currently with almost everything Arthur needed. Anywhere else was suicide. Van Horn Trading Post was getting off of its high horses and Saint Denis just stunk of all types of trouble.
As his horse came to a stop outside of a doctor's office, he swung off of the animal and stormed inside, opening the door, looking at the female receptionist.
"I need a doctor!" He bellowed. "For my brother! He's injured!"
He couldn't go into detail. Knowing the Pinkertons, they would be looking for one Arthur Morgan. Javier Escuella wasn't nearly as well-known, but there were definitely some bounties for him somewhere.
"Of course."
Finally, three doctors came out. They followed behind him to the direction of Boaz who remained still. Javier placed his hand on the left side of his horse's neck, keeping him from making the doctors scream like some wives and wishing they hadn't approached his horse. Watching as the three men gripped him, they moved back inside, Javier following behind.
"We need to get him fed and drinking. Some medicine as well. He's half breathing." The one who must have been the oldest doctor declared. Javier only made this assumption based off the fact that the man's black hair and beard was graying.
Would they be able to help him?
He didn't want Arthur dead. Losing his brother was never the goddamn plan! At least, it shouldn't have been! He shouldn't be questioning Dutch because the man always had a plan and couldn't do wrong!
"He has a few damaged ribs, some nasty bruises, black eyes." A female doctor said.
Javier nodded. "Can you save him?"
"We'll do what we could," the female said grimly, not sugarcoating.
And he moved over to the chair, collapsing into it as the weight of everything caught up to him. He was torn between rationality and insanity, for what he was doing to Dutch, how he must have been breaking the man's heart, to Arthur's current condition due to the fight on the mountain.
"You okay there, friend? You seem upset for some reason."
Startled, Javier craned his neck to his right. He hadn't seen the man sitting beside him in another chair.
The Strange Man dresses in a black two-piece suit, with a grey vest, a black tie and top hat. He has a well-maintained mustache and deathly pale skin with dreamy, pensive eyes. Javier had to take a double glance, as he resembled Trelawny very heavily. Damn, what would he have think of shit going so horribly wrong in the past few weeks? His thick mustache flickered with a concerned frown.
Javier nodded. "Just thinking about my brother, friend."
He still couldn't shake the fact that something was familiar about this man. From somewhere. It was not Trelawny. The man disappeared, abandoned Dutch.
"Do I…know you?"
The man in the black suit chuckled in amusement. "Many people do. Yes, Javier, you know me. I am quite a popular figure."
The hands at his side clenched up into fists. "How do you know my name, puto? Who are you?"
"Well, that's not very nice to call someone. If we know each other, wouldn't it make sense to know your name, Mr. Escuella? You may not remember me as I am the one who saw your awakening so long ago by your mother's side."
And for some reason, Javier felt safe in his presence. Not that he would admit it. Familiar faces made him safe, at least before the gang fell apart due to lack of faith in Dutch.
"What are you talking about, friend?" The Mexican growled. "Explain."
The Strange Man chuckled, his eyes flickering with levity. "Ah, agitation must runs into the Van Der Linde gang. John didn't act all too calm with my presence either."
"John?" He growled. He didn't know what to feel about the man who lost faith in Dutch. "You know where he's at then."
"Nah, you weren't that long dead when I talked to him. He's different than he is now. More caring about his fatherly duties, more burdened from the form of the law." The Strange Man shrugged. "I presume one changed action prevents a future set in motion."
He glared at him, bothered. "You're talking nonsense, compadre, think it's best if you leave me be."
He felt his lungs tightening up at that moment.
"In the end, you didn't have the guts to leave Arthur on that mountain. That's why you came back for him. What would Dutch think?"
His eyes expanded and he stared beside him. The man was gone. Cursing, he looked in front of him, and yelled in surprise when the mysterious man manifested right before him.
"What the hell?" The Mexican hissed. "Who are you? Some Pinkerton?"
"You'll find I know many things, Javier. I know all that Arthur Morgan underwent. He redeemed himself at the end by helping John on that mountain. You shamed your brothers when you could have sided with them from the get-go. You chose a rat over family, cobarde."
Javier felt the collision of shame embedded inside of him as he'd thought about how he was tempted to leave two men - his brothers - behind. But he didn't betray his family? Dutch was his family!
"You're insane. Get away from me."
"Listen to me…I'm giving a chance to Arthur...the man is destined to die this day, but I'm feeling merciful so I will not claim him...on the condition you do not go back to Dutch."
Javier froze. A chill embraced his skin as his entire body went rigid. He was being bargained with loyalty to Dutch over Arthur's life. He couldn't just abandoned Dutch! Loyalty was what kept their fragile family! And that loyalty would be enough long after!
"Loyalty? Oh, and where did that misplaced loyalty lead to? To more members of your family killed." The Strange Man said icily.
He was surprised. But this would be a burden, to run from Dutch, to be a rat...
The Strange Man's lips stretched into a smile, confirming that he was reading his thoughts. "It is a burden. As Arthur had to commence with his deadly burdens, you have to turn your back on Dutch indefinitely. In another reality Arthur's time has long passed. I watched John send his family off to safety before he was gunned down in a similar way by armies of the law. I've seen you going mad as your blind loyalty led you to insanity."
John was not only shot in the left shoulder, but he also fell off a moving train on to hard ground, so he would likely have become unconscious. Javier genuinely thought that John was dead, ignoring the small chance that he might not be alive and thus abandoning him, having followed Dutch's orders when he told him that they couldn't find John.
"Continue threading this path, and you would have two destinies with the same result. In one, John kills you at the end. In another, the law claims you."
Javier didn't know what he was saying, but as he spoke those words, he saw visions in his head. Distant, borderline inconceivable, but the message was clear.
"What do you want from me?" The Mexican asked, his voice cracking.
"I want to give you a chance, Javier. A chance to save at least one brother of a fractured family. You are redeemable."
Javier shook his head, confused, a knot in his stomach. "I don't…know what you mean."
The Strange Man closed his eyes for what felt like hours before reopening them. "Mhm, to think, Arthur is on the edge of death, stuck in a state by what will one day be a treatable illness. Fortunately, your brotherhood moved me. I don't offer these things often… it's rather unorthodox, but I'm feeling rather generous currently, so I will allow Mr. Morgan to live seeing that you want to save him. Tread cautiously here, Cowboy. His disease is still a mortally-threatening one. He will need to be taken somewhere to take it easy for a while recovering. It will still be a slow one."
At that moment, he knew he was going crazy.
"The King has already lost his way. The Rat sunk deep and claimed hold of his victim. You will encounter him again, and you will have to be prepared for what is done."
When Javier stared up, the Strange Man had vanished. The Mexican looked around, jaw slack, but he was nowhere to be found. What the fuck was wrong with him? He needed a drink quickly!
"We'll talk again when necessary, my friend," he heard the stranger say, but there was no physical entity to produce the voice.
The Strange Man was obviously not a mere mortal, but Javier couldn't pinpoint what he was. He remembered old stories of Gods and Devils that Hosea used to tell the children before bedtime. Goddamn it, could've been the Grim Reaper. He was not a normal human, that was for sure.
Or maybe Javier was going crazy already with everything and that he was just seeing things.
Goddamn it.
He needed a rest.