Author's Note: More drug use inbound.
"He's supposed to meet us at the fork in the road, that's what he said!" He spun the Count around, as though he could see through the rocky terrain around them and catch a glimpse of Arthur.
"You don't 'spose he…well I mean…the man pays well for good fighters." Micah scratched his head, turning Baylock around too and pretending to look for Mr. Morgan as well.
"Expand your meaning Micah!" He shouted, causing the Count to whirl around again and squeal a bit as the animal felt his rider press his spurs into his flank. The stallion pinned his ears and roared, kicking a back leg errantly and chewing at the bit.
He wouldn't. He knew what he did to her and he was just as angry as I was too.
"What if he…oh I don't want to say it out loud." Micah shifted nervously in his seat, looking at the ground as the Count continued to act up, sensing Dutch's anger on his back and lashing out in response.
"Will you fucking QUIT IT!" He pulled back on the reins sharply, rubbing the metal bit between the back of the stallions mouth causing the animal to pin his ears and half rear. He pushed the animal in a tight circle, hoping that he could wear the stallion out by asking him to maneuver quickly and randomly in place. After a while, the stallion snorted, shifting a bit and settling down entirely though his ears remained pinned to let his rider know he was agitated.
"Tellin' you, that walking glue factory doesn't know manners."
"Don't tell me how the hell to discipline my fuckin' mount Micah! Get to the goddamn point!" He groaned, keeping the reins tightly in one hand and trying to adjust his vest as he suddenly felt overheated in the afternoon sun.
"Arthur probably ran off with Colm, I hate to be the one to say it but…" He shrugged, gesturing at the emptiness around them, "he ain't here like he said he would be. And it ain't just him been acting suspect these days."
"Bullshit! Arthur would never…" He chuckled at first but as he began to think about it, Arthur had been coming and going without much thought these days, or being antagonistic, or trying to convince him that what he had planned wasn't right.
No. He wouldn't. Ain't no goddamn way. He's just been hanging out with Hosea and John too much, letting them get in his head. They're starting to doubt me too.
"Dutch, you're not a stupid man, so why are you acting like one? We've had a recent string of some real bad luck. Someone is betraying you Dutch."
"Betrayal? Really, Micah…you questioning me too, Mr. Bell? Huh?" He raised an eyebrow and put his left hand on the revolver, shaking his head and snarling. "Or do you just wanna test me right now? Is that it?"
"Woah, woah woah…easy there partner," Micah dropped his reins and held his hands up, "I'm just trying to look out for you is all. Maybe…maybe, Arthur headed out into the wilderness again instead of doing what he was supposed to after all. That's all I'm tryin' to say."
"I need to find him." He let go of the revolver and started the Count towards the ridge that he had directed Arthur to, but Micah pushed Baylock to get ahead of them, cutting the white stallion off.
"Dutch, if he was with us he woulda been here. He ain't here and he ain't comin'. We've been waiting for hours! Colm had every opportunity to gun us both down–"
"Colm can kiss the entirety of my ass, I could outdraw that bastard any day, he took Annabelle but he ain't takin' me! Now git! We need to find Arthur!" He waved trying to convince Micah to move but the man sighed and put his hands down on the pommel of his saddle, looking at the dusty ground again before looking back up sadly.
"Dutch, he ain't comin' back. He abandoned us. Left us out in the wind with our asses out to that rotten bastard that killed your woman. He's gone. Why can't you see that?"
'Darling…'
Oh fuck off!
"But–" He protested.
"He ain't comin'." Micah whispered, gesturing back towards the direction of camp, "let him go. He's abandoned you after everything you did for him. They don't see it, but I see it. They don't appreciate you like I do. I saved your life cuz I thought you looked like a fighter. You're a fighter, ain't you, Dutch? We didn't get Colm this time, but we will. Soon. It'll be dark soon. Let's get back to camp."
—-
Tonight she was eating with Death, sitting across the table from him in his fine suit and top hat, laughing and pushing her tight curls back as the two of them ate together at the other end of the saloon.
Hosea had taken John out on a hunting trip despite his insistence that Annabelle would never return to Dutch and he needed to 'give it up'. But he couldn't, not while this creature was busy chatting her up and wining and dining her. If he was here, it meant that he was there for her and Dutch wanted to be here to stop him from taking her away permanently. Maybe even formulate another deal if he had to.
He grumbled under his breath, turning back to the bar that Dan was tending tonight and pushed his glass forward.
"Another."
"You got eyes for that lady, huh? Half the men in town do too." Dan asked, leaning forward and retrieving a bottle from behind the bar and pouring another shot for Dutch.
"That lady happens to be my wife…well, ex-wife I 'spose." He replied, knocking the shot he had been poured back and gesturing to it again as Dan dutifully refilled it with a smirk.
"Huh. I gotta admit, I'm surprised you couldn't keep her around. She's a nice woman. You catch the clap from a whore or somethin'? That why she all irate with you? You folks got a handsome boy, smart too the boss says and the boss is the smartest man I know," Dan chuckled as he tucked the bottle away and held a hand up, "no offense of course."
"None taken, he ain't our blood but he is a smart boy. And no, I didn't fuck a whore and catch somethin'. I fucked up, obviously, but nothing quite like that I can assure you." He played with the glass a little, debating whether or not to look over his shoulder at Annabelle again.
"Ah, let me guess," he snickered as he retrieved a towel and pretended to wipe down the bar, "she wanted a real family right? But you don't strike me as a family man. That why you folks split up then? Thought you could placate her by adopting some urchin off the street."
"Somethin' like that." He lied, pounding the next shot and tapping the space between his glass and the bar.
"I'd slow down if I was you. She's headed your way," Dan briefly glanced up and spoke in a hushed tone, "wouldn't wanna be too drunk when she forgives you, I can see it in her eyes."
"She ain't gonna forgive me, Dan. But I appreciate the sympathy." He lifted the empty glass and tapped it a moment until he felt her fingers along his shoulder. He almost melted under her touch and he dare not turn around to face her.
"Mr. Van der Linde." She purred, running her fingers along his shoulder and then down his left arm, only pulling her touch from him when she reached his wrist.
"Miss McLean." He felt giddy to feel her slide in next to him at the bar, happier still to feel her tuck a stray curl of his own hair behind his ear, and ecstatic when she linked her arm with his and leaned her chin on the top of his arm to look at Dan. Though he tried his best to suppress it, he needed to play it cool even though it had been nearly two months since he had been this close to her. She still felt the same to him. Warm, soft, and the perfume she had placed on her neck tonight delicately caressed his nostrils. Rose, jasmine, and a hint of some woodsy smell he still could not place to this day, nor would she indulge him in what it was.
"Your odd friend is an interesting character." She let go of his arm and gestured to the empty glass in front of Dutch, "I'll have what he's having, Dan."
"He's no friend of mine, or yours for that matter, Belle, he's–" He began, feeling the quick succession of whisky begin to kick in on an empty stomach as Dan smirked and produced another glass for her and poured her a drink. But she gently touched his cheek to give him a seconds pause.
"Nevermind, darling. I…Dutch," She placed her fingers under his chin and turned his head towards hers, "just apologize for what you did, sincerely, to me and I will return to you. That's all I'm asking for. You betrayed me when you…you hurt me on purpose and then tried to lie to me. We've been through this before and I cannot go through it a third time. You told me you'd keep your promise to be who you really are but, that man that hurt me…I don't like him at all. Your acquaintance was the one who convinced me I should forgive you, you know. The one with the top hat. Told me I had a choice but it doesn't feel like–"
"Annabelle," he sighed and grabbed her hand to press against his mouth for a while before pulling it away, "I am sorry, but I can't promise you I won't do something like it again..I am not a good man. I told you that–"
"You always say that, Dutch and it's bull–" she looked away a moment and he grabbed her full glass and raised it to her before knocking it back too, shivering a bit as he felt his stomach fight back against the quick succession of drinks.
"I love you Belle. At least, I'm trying to anyway, despite my lack of empathy."
"And I love you too, Dutch. Even if you're a goddamn dumbass." She shook her head and motioned with her chin towards the stairs. "Are you joining me in bed tonight?"
"I'd like nothing more, darling."
—-
"What do you mean he's gone, Dutch?" Susan paced back and forth in the tent frantically, puffing on her cigarette and continuing to go back and forth in circles.
"He didn't show. I think he decided to follow Colm—"
"He wouldn't just run off! He wouldn't do that and you know it!" She shouted angrily, turning back to him now with tears in her eyes.
"Sue…don't look at me like that. I'm upset too but we have bigger problems right now than Arthur or Colm." He ran his fingers through his hair and looked away from her now, embarrassed.
You know he wouldn't have run away, something isn't right about any of this at all and you know it.
"How else am I supposed to look at you! I raised him! With you! He's my son, Dutch! Our son! But let me guess, because he ain't HERS, he doesn't matter to you RIGHT?!"
"Don't you talk to me like that! I'm having hard enough of a time today without you reminding me of the past! The woman is fucking DEAD! Arthur left me! He left us! He's probably out," he waved a hand a moment before growling and looking for a cigar, "fuckin' around with the locals! Doing stupid shit behind my back!"
"Get your ass up and find our son! You're letting that goddamn weasel Micah get into your fucking ear!" She hissed, inhaling deeply again and exhaling through her nose.
"Ain't nobody in my ear, Susan. But Micah has a point." He growled at first, pausing a moment and stuttering a bit as he tried to think of something to calm her down. What he wasn't expecting was for her to slap him, knocking his teeth together as she shivered in front of him and opened the flap a second to toss her cigarette out. She lit another one angrily, still furiously shaking in her night dress with her long hair spilling over her back.
"Annabelle would tell you to look! This is Colm O'Driscoll we're talking about. You told me enough about what he did to her, we know what he's capable of doing Dutch. He has our son, I just know it! Betrayal? Are you out of your goddamn mind!"
"Susan, enough about Annabelle for the love of God. And women's intuition and all that bullshit. Arthur has been coming and going as he deems fit! And John. How the hell do the Pinkerton's keep finding us, Sue? Someone is talking." He kicked at the log pile near his woodstove angrily.
"Arthur?" Dutch's ears perked up and he snapped the book he had been reading shut, practically launching himself away from the cot and practically dropping it on Molly who had curled up away from him. The redhead woke up, glaring at his back as he practically sprinted to the others.
I'm gonna tear into this son of a bitch for abandoning his goddamn post! Lying through his teeth about meeting us on the ridge! Oh and he'll give me that eye roll and 'yeah well I was busy Dutch' speech horseshit!
But as he made his way to where Karen and Mary-Beth had gathered he realized just how wrong he was for even having doubted Arthur to begin with.
Fuck.
"Arthur…" He was lying face up on the ground, with a septic shoulder wound, a cut up face, and beaten nearly half to death. Susan's intuition had absolutely been on point, now there was no denying it. Women are absolutely terrifying with the way they know things so concretely in their bones without knowing all the facts of the matter.
"I told you it was a set up, Dutch…"
I know. I know…I know that now. We have a goddamn rat and I am so sorry I ever even thought it could be you.
"My boy, my dear boy, what?"
"They got me…but I got away." He panted, closing his eyes as Dutch leaned down to touch him, comfort him somehow.
God he looks like hell, Susan's gonna kill me for not trying to find him like I should've. I need to talk to Micah. He's been looking into which one of them might be giving us up behind our backs. There has to be someone in this camp who is actively working against us. How else would Arthur have ended up in the condition he's in? How would Colm have even known to take Arthur? And why.
"Yeah you did. Miss Grimshaw, I need help!"
—-
"How is he?" He quietly tried to step towards Arthur's tent where Susan had been keeping watch over him for a few days now. He had been in and out of consciousness, waking up occasionally to eat or drink, get assistance to the stand of trees to do his business, or have his wounds seen to. But for now, Arthur was sound asleep again.
"Like you give a rat's ass." She hissed, softly dabbing Arthur's forehead with a wet compress while he shivered and sweated in his sleep, moaning softly from time to time.
"Susan, don't start that shit right now. I fucked up. I know I did and I feel bad enough as it is. Don't you go punishing me for it some more. If I had known…he–he said they was going to bring the law on us. If I had gone to get him like Colm clearly wanted me to…we'd all be dead," he put a hand on her shoulder but she didn't try to throw him off, "and so would he. He's a grown man now sweetheart, we can't…we're not…I am sorry, I feel like a fool. Micah and I both–"
"You sit with him a while, Dutch, then you can talk to me about how apologetic you are. Like I haven't heard the same bullshit from Micah since Mr. Morgan came back. Ain't nothin' but bad luck and worse luck since you took him in. You see it, don't you?" She finally shrugged his touch off of her shoulder, looking down at Arthur and sighing as she tried to fight back tears.
"See what, darlin'? I love that boy," he gestured to Arthur, "the man we raised. We made a bad call and I'm an idiot. I wasn't thinking, I knew it was a trap and I went anyway."
"Dutch, how did Colm know Arthur would be with you and Micah that day? I might not be…I'm not well educated but surely you–"
"You think Micah told them? How could he? He's been making money hand over fist lately with whatever schemes he gets up to in his free time. Why betray us when he does so much around camp? Pearson was the one who said they wanted a parlay–"
"I agree with Susan on this one. Think about it." Hosea slunk out of the shadows to stand next to Dutch.
"So now you both want to punish me!" He growled, shifting away from the both of them and rubbing his chin with his hand in thought.
"Dutch, I know you don't want to think about her right now given how similar this situation is to the one you faced all those years ago with Colm, but…she would be telling you the exact same thing that Susan is. You wrote Arthur off, a man you raised yourself, for that viper." Hosea offered quietly.
"She would see the bluster in him is just testosterone fueled bullshit. Mac was a cantankerous bastard too but I didn't get any shit from either of you on account of him! Mac was a goddamn fighter and so is Micah. And frankly, so am I." He folded his arms and turned away from all three of them, turning his back to them entirely as Susan and Hosea both shot each other a worried look.
"Sweetheart–"
"Don't you go 'sweetheartin' me, Miss Grimshaw! I love you both but you are wearing my patience and sanity thin these days! I'm going for a walk." He moved towards the Lake now, preferring to avoid both of them if he could and they seemed to know that and let him be.
"He'll get his head right eventually, don't you worry." Hosea patted her shoulder and she sighed again, tears threatening her eyes as she gripped his hand.
"I hope so," she whispered, "for all our sakes."
—-
"Awful pretty night, Dutch." Micah crept across the dock where the older man had seated himself on a post and rested his elbows on his thighs, pensively looking out at the dark waters of the lake.
"Why did you send Arthur to that ridge, Micah?" He mumbled, straightening up for a minute to adjust the buttons on his sleeves, debating whether or not to roll them up past his elbows or not.
"You've been letting them get to you, Dutch. It was the only suitable spot to keep a tab on us in case the O'Driscoll boys wanted a bit of action. Look…I know how it might look but I swear to you–" Micah crept a little closer, discarding his cigarette into the lake water and exhaling before taking a swing off a moonshine jug they had stolen from the Braithwaites some time ago.
"Maybe. Maybe that's true. At least, I'd certainly like it to be. For your sake anyway." He glanced up and reached out for the moonshine as Micah finished taking a drink from it. The blonde handed it to him, shivering a bit as the strong substance made its way down his gullet, burning him a little.
"Careful, it's strong stuff." He snickered, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve as Dutch tipped it back and took a long drink from it. Oh it burned alright, but his body had been accustomed to worse things over the years and he didn't react quite the way Micah had a moment ago. He hummed rather than shiver, feeling the hairs on his hands, neck, and forearms stand up briefly and his cheeks flush as he took a second gulp of it before handing it back over.
"I guess, if you can't handle imbibing this white trash distilled bullshit."
"You uh…you can trust me to have your best interests at heart, you know. I know I ain't as golden of a boy as John or as tough as Arthur but I am loyal to you. Probably more so. I admire you, Dutch, I really do and I appreciate you trying to smooth things over with folks on my behalf, I'm sure it ain't easy but–" Micah began but Dutch snorted and interrupted him.
"Enough pandering, Micah. I agree that we have a rat too but it is neither of my boys. My sons. Understand? I now have to pay for what Colm did to Arthur for the rest of my days, the way I am still paying for what he did to Annabelle all those years ago, because I wasn't thinking clearly." He raised an eyebrow and the man nodded, scratching the back of his head and shaking it for a little while in disappointment.
"I do. I just…I hope you're making the right choice by believing in them. John criticizes you at every opportunity, I can understand why Hosea might do so publicly, being your 'right hand' and all. But where does Marston get off on questioning your authority in front of folks, hmm? I know," Micah raised his hands, disturbing the heavy jug and sloshing the liquid around as he did so, "I know, 'John is my son, Micah'. It ain't a good look when a man questions his leader's intelligence either way though."
"He gets that boldness from his mother. From Annabelle. He is as much her son as he is mine."
"Heh, you let a woman talk to you like he does?" Micah snickered, taking another drink off the jug and exhaling as it burned its way down, spilling across his face a bit as he wiped the excess away again with his sleeve.
"I did. Is that a problem, Mr. Bell?"
"Course not. Me though, well I could never let a woman mouth off to me…cept maybe Miss Roberts."
—-
Lenny, Hosea, Jenny, Mac, Davey, Sean, Kieran, and Molly. "One by one, I will take them all from you." Is what The Strange Man had told him all those years ago. Though truly he had never actually loved Molly, as time wore on, so did she. But some part of him had actually felt betrayed and saddened by her loss which he found odd.
"Grief is a powerful tool for vengeance." That's what he told you. And that's all that feeling moment had been, grief, though he didn't know why. He could understand how he felt about losing Hosea but, the rest of them…he shouldn't have cared, they had meant nothing to him except pieces on the board.
But every night since the Blackwater Incident, he recalled every single person that Death had stolen from him in the last six months. Sometimes, he even remembered Heidi McCourt. Like Annabelle once had, everyone had taken a liking to slipping into the periphery of his vision, though thankfully they seemed much quieter than she had been. They never called out to him or spoke, they just stood there or sat there watching him go through the motions as though they were waiting for him to acknowledge their presence.
He had pocketed some morphine off Swanson again, snapping open the small case that contained a needle, a rubber piece to tie his arm with, and four small vials inside. He hesitated at first, shaking a bit as he snapped it closed again and bounced one of his legs while sitting on the cot.
I shouldn't…but…I need to rest for a little while. Maybe…maybe I can see one of them and talk to them for a while in my dreams, see why they won't just leave me alone.
He shivered a minute, feeling the urge to get it into him now no matter the cost, that familiar sensation of desperate longing. It was the only thing that made seeing ghosts out of the corners of his eyes bearable anymore or helped him sleep. But at least Susan and Trelawny hadn't noticed, or if they had, they hadn't said a word to him about it. This was medicinal, he wasn't some drug addled idiot, he opened the case again to inspect the meager supply hungrily.
"You got a minute, Dutch?" It was Sadie calling to him from outside the tent and he quickly hid the case under his pillow and cleared his throat, eying her silhouette on the canvas.
"Come in Mrs. Adler." He called back as she pushed the flap aside and stepped into the darkness. She looked around a moment, unsure about how he might take her presence in his tent, especially alone these days.
"They got 'im." She said, producing a newspaper and holding it out to him. He took it and inspected it. He almost laughed at the irony, they had caught Colm O'Driscoll and were going to hang him in Saint Denis.
"They think they did, Colm is notorious for always having an out. It ain't the first time nor the last time they'll try to dispense justice on that monster." He went to hand it back to her but she wouldn't take it, folding her arms and looking at the floor again pensively before looking at him again.
"So, we ought to make certain he can't get out of the hangman's noose, then. Right?" She straightened up, staring down at him with that fierce intensity like she had initially when he took her in. She reminded him of Jenny in a way but, even Micah wouldn't go out of his way to annoy her or bullshit her. Probably afraid she'd geld him, her husband must've been one hell of a man or a fool to marry a feral woman like this.
"We are wanted in Saint Denis, remember? On account of Angelo Brönte.
'Revenge isn't a luxury we can–'"
Just let me shoot up in goddamn peace.
"I'll go alone if I have to. He murdered Annabelle, or maybe you just didn't love her enough to care about taking that son of a bitch out and sending him to hell where he belongs!" Sadie snapped and he shot her a look of disbelief as he tossed his hat aside and ran his hands through his hair.
"I oughta slap you for sayin' that. Didn't any of them tell you what he did to her? What he did to me, hmmm? Remember when Arthur got away from him the last time…I came back to camp like that once too. Bloody, with broken bones, a broken heart, and the woman I loved dearly, dead. I died when she did, Mrs. Adler. They all think I'm fuckin' out of my goddamn mind, like I don't hear 'em whispering behind my back! You think I haven't suffered too? I have been in agony for years!" He slowly stood up, tugging his vest down and glaring at her. "We'll take Micah."
"No. We take Arthur, he's the only one I trust. 'Specially since you left Mr. Marston to die by hanging." She grumbled quietly, not even flinching as he stalked towards her slowly, his eyes betraying his innermost thoughts as he looked her over. He despised her for the way she was speaking to him, as though he hadn't rescued her from certain death or at the very least being raped again by Micah before burned alive. They all keep forgetting about everything I've ever done for them.
"I had a plan for John, you two idiots decided to go off on our own without even askin' me! I don't trust either of you as far as I can throw you, well, I could probably throw you Mrs. Adler but I won't. Maybe you're the goddamn rat skittering around in this camp, huh? No one wants to see Colm O'Driscoll dead more than I do. We are taking Micah and that's final." He growled, pacing a little now.
"This is my job, Dutch. I don't know what the hell has gotten into you as of late but you're not the man I thought you were, even if Miss Grimshaw says you're acting this way on account of you grievin'. So don't get all 'high and mighty' with me you sonofabitch. We ain't takin' that asshole with us and we are all greivin'. 'Cept Micah of course, he antagonized half the folk who gave their lives along the way. Colm stole your darling Annabelle, my husband, and Kieran from us. I dunno what problem you have with Mr. Morgan these days, but I ain't riding with you if we don't take him. He ought to get his revenge for what Colm did to him, as much as you or I." She folded her arms and inhaled sharply through her nose, her braid swaying back and forth a moment.
The way she stood there in the dim light of his shadowy tent reminded him of her, except Sadie wasn't pouting to get her way, she was demanding to. He chuckled, scratching his face with his hands and biting his lower lip for a moment as he stretched his neck side to side.
"What's so goddamn funny." Sadie snarled under her breath, regarding him coldly as he shook himself of his thoughts and looked at her again. Ah, but you're no Belle.
"You remind me of her," he answered quietly, "she liked to talk to me the way you are, though when she didn't get her way she would pout. Not showy or exhausting, Miss O'Shea type pouting, mind you. But somethin' similar to the way you're standing now. Folding her arms, regarding me like I'm nothing more than a miserable little insect…fine, we'll take Morgan."
"Thank you." She nodded her head and went to turn away, fidgeting with the tent flap a moment and growling a bit when she spotted Micah just whittling away outside in the chair that Dutch usually sat in to read.
"Go get your things, Mrs. Adler." He had crept up behind her and gently placed a hand between her shoulder blades but she snapped the flap shut and turned her head to look at him and whisper.
"Promise me he ain't coming, that you won't say a thing to him about where we're going or what we're doing. I didn't know your woman, Mr. Van der Linde, but I suspect she wouldn't have been too fond of Micah either."
"You have my word." He muttered back, softly pushing her a bit to get her moving, "Go get your things Mrs. Adler."
—-
He was heading back to where Sadie was waiting for him at the execution, his boots echoing loudly as he left Arthur behind to go rejoin the feral woman in the yellow dress. He giggled, he had a front row seat to the man's execution.
Oh the look on his face when he realizes I'm here, that there is no weaseling his way out of his final breath this time. I'd like to be the one to pull the lever, drop him down and hear the bones of his neck snap. This isn't how I wanted to end things with him but…I suppose at least it's the end. With the gang falling to absolute shit, slipping back into my old habits, Arthur dying of tuberculosis, and John probably running off with that whore and boy of his…I'll go back to the ridge and lay beside her again. One of them is betraying me, or maybe it's all of them now.
"I don't think you will, not yet anyway." A familiar voice called from the shadows, smoking a cigarette and exhaling loudly. Death. He had his pocket watch out and was checking the time, snapping it shut as time seemed to slow and eventually stop.
"Holding the moment for me, are you?" He asked looking around at the frozen birds in midair, the people paused in their movements, completely unaware of him or the Strange Man as he stuffed his watch into his pocket again.
"On her behalf this time. I would've brought her to see you but…well, there's only so much I can do after all. The last time some pathetic mortal moved me enough to relinquish their darling from my care, he failed to heed my command not to turn around to see if she were following faithfully behind him." Death chuckled, twirling his mustache a bit with his free hand as he puffed on the cigarette for a moment before tossing it into the street.
"And what did she have to say to you that moved you so to come harass me on the happiest day of my life without her?" He raised an eyebrow, chortling as he folded his arms in the police uniform.
"That you made the right choice," He replied, "this time. And that she hopes you will continue to make the right choice when the time comes."
"Cryptic. Are you sure those are her words and not yours, sir? She tended to be forthright."
"I 'spose." He inspected the end of his fingers for a second, as though he were checking his nails for dirt before he lifted the hand to his top hat and tipped it up. "Guess we'll see, Mr. Van der Linde. Enjoy your…revenge."
—-
They pushed their way up into the crowd during the reading of the charges, as they gagged Colm and continued on.
Smug mother fucker, he thought bitterly as Sadie slipped to take the man on the right and he on the left.
"Don't you damn well move." Sadie growled, holding a knife to the first man as he raised his revolver to the other, holding it tightly to the man's temple and locking his forearm around the man's neck. Both men were caught off guard, unsure of who had them at first until they looked back at their boss. There, in his eyes was confusion at first as he looked at the officer and the woman in the yellow dress with a feathered hat. Then, recognition and finally disbelief.
"Relax–" He mumbled almost inaudibly, hardly able to hear his own voice over the speech the executioner was giving now. He didn't know if he had said it for his own benefit, Sadie's, or the man he was holding at gunpoint. You have to do this carefully so you don't end up being strung next after this asshole. His heartbeat quickened a little excitedly, anticipating what was coming next, he gritted his teeth a bit and checked his surroundings as Colm's eyes widened in horror.
That's right, I'm here Mr. O'Driscoll. I told you back then you should've killed me when you had the chance or I would spend the rest of my days hunting you down and waiting for this moment.
The man looked up at the roof now for the man he knew would be there to cause a distraction but when he saw the big wave to him in response, he whimpered a bit in his gag. It wasn't his man, but one of Dutch's and judging by the bulky size even at a distance, he knew it was Arthur. He began frantically searching the crowd for anyone, he had plenty of men but no matter where he tried to look, all he found were the faces of strangers. No one was coming to get him out of this mess now. He was helpless now.
For a fleeting moment he thought back to the woman Dutch had kept, the dark haired pregnant woman who had slashed his face with a kitchen knife and left her mark under his left eye and across his nose. Annabelle. Hell, he thought the woman in yellow might be her in the flesh for a moment but her hair was too light, her features weren't sharp enough to be that bitch. A second wife, Colm thought quietly, he always did like 'em refined and high class. But the way this woman was looking at him, in the same way that his old friend and bitter rival was, made him contemplate who she might be. There was something wild about this woman, she may have been dressed in a fancy outfit but her hair gave her actual personality away. Ah, the woman we kept for fun after we strung up her husband and played with her in front of him. The way I did the same to you all those years ago. You rescued that one too.
He looked back to Dutch now, almost apologetically but the man was grinning from ear to ear, holding his revolver away from the man he had held. Taunting Colm.
I told you I would make you suffer someday.
Colm began to hyperventilate, staring straight ahead in the distance, the gag moving in and out of his mouth and his breath shaking a bit with every breath.
"Whenever you are ready." The portly man with glasses told one of the officers who nodded, grabbing a hold of the lever and snapping it back.
Dutch jumped a bit at the sound of the bones snapping in Colm's neck, but not out of shock or horror, but delight. Even the gasps of the crowd were like a melody to his ears. A burden had been lifted off of him, but the overwhelming sense of relief and joy quickly ended when Sadie sunk her knife into the man she was holding. He stepped back, holding his revolver up as she went insane, withdrawing her gun and splattering his hostages brain's all over his uniform and part of his face.
"Shit!" He let the man drop, barely missing the bulk of blood and gray matter that came spraying at him as the bullet tore through the man. "Okay, let's go."
He delicately grabbed her upper arm, trying to lead her away as she continued to shout and fire wildly at anything remotely resembling an O'Driscoll and began to fire back at the officers who, too, recognized them now.
And Arthur was worried about me staying 'cool and calm'! Jesus Christ!
"ARRRTHUR! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, SHOOT SOME OF THESE O'DRISCOLLS!" He pulled Sadie with him for a moment, linking his arm with hers and retrieving his other revolver, letting go of her as he pulled it out and headed for cover.
—-
He pulled the wagon up the trail, bouncing a bit in the seat as he pulled the horses over to stop and hopped in the back to retrieve his own clothing.
"We're stopping?" She asked curiously as he tore around for the burlap sack he had left his belongings in.
"Temporarily. This wool coat is itchy and hot, and I don't particularly like it either." He found it, turning to hop quickly over the side and landing in the dirt.
"But what about the law? Or more of Colm's men?" She watched him dart into the security of the woods, tearing at the buttons of the navy blue coat and snarling, frantic to get it off of him.
"I thought you said you were going to stay calm! We wouldn't be worried about the law at all if you hadn't gone all–fucking mad at the last second!" He shouted, throwing it onto the ground and tearing at the officers uniform now, practically shredding the suspender straps off his shoulders and ripping buttons as he clawed the shirt off.
"Like you didn't wanna do the same thing to them!" Sadie hissed, hoping off the wagon herself and leaning against it, throwing the hat into the back of the wagon.
"Do you mind?" He snapped, turning to look back at her as he stood there with just the shirt off.
"You ain't got anything I want Dutch–" She began and he shook his head, closing both his eyes in frustration for a moment and inhaling loudly.
"Yeah well, I'd rather you turn around anyway, if it's all the same to you Mrs. Adler."
"Whatever." She rolled her eyes and did as he asked, turning around to look out at the otherside of the trail and leaned her forearms on the footboard.
"Thank you." He replied pointedly, turning his back to her as he moved on to getting off the boots next, standing on the ripped up uniform shirt to keep his socks out of the dirt. Though, it hadn't actually been about her seeing him in the buff but rather, the needle marks along the inside of his arms near the crease of the elbow. And the bruising he had inflicted on himself from tying the tourniquet too tightly in recent days. He had made Arthur do the same thing as Sadie was now when they had changed into their uniforms. He had taken up the habit again since Hosea died, at first to help sleep but now, it was just to make all those wayward spirits that haunted him out of the corner of his vision go away.
Or maybe I'm a goddamn opium addict, again. I need to get laudanum, that's a hell of a lot easier to hide than morphine. No needle, no mark, no tying off my goddamn arm…
"You done?" She called over her shoulder as he replaced the uniform pants with his own and zipped up.
"Jesus Christ, be patient for two goddamn seconds!" He snapped, whipping his pinstripe shirt a couple times as loudly as he could but she had already glanced over and raised an eyebrow.
"Are you alright, Dutch? I always knew you were a…tempermental sort but…you been awful short tempered lately." She folded her arms and suspiciously eyed his exposed back as he quickly replaced the shirt, shoving his arms into the sleeves and carefully starting from the bottom of his buttons before he turned around to reply.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Adler. You nearly got us all killed when you went fuckin' insane at the hanging! Jesus Christ, I am a grown fuckin' man so please stop acting like I'm some disobedient little boy, it's absolutely infuriating. AND…I have every reason to be short tempered these days, don't you think?" He raised an eyebrow, snarling a bit under his breath as he finished buttoning up the shirt and moved back to the sack to retrieve his vest.
"Don't rope me into whatever bullshit you've got with Arthur and John! I know we ain't been runnin' together that long but you're a fuckin' asshole! Somethin' has gotten into you lately! Letting fuckin' Micah into your ear. Lettin' him bring his buddies into the fold! Folk are scared, Dutch, and they're scared of you!" Sadie yelled back.
"Me? I SAVED ALL OF YOU!" He tossed the vest away angrily, shouting back at her at the top of his lungs now as he moved off the coat and allowed his socks to become dirty. "AND THIS, THIS INSUBORDINATION IS THE THANKS I GET? FUCK ALL OF YA! BUNCH OF FUCKIN' INGRATES!"
"YOU SHOULD'VE LET ME DIE THEN I GUESS! YOU'RE ACTING LIKE THAT FUCKIN' BASTARD WE JUST ENSURED WOULD SWING!" She hollered back, unfolding her arms and throwing her hands in the air.
"I live by a code…" He snarled under his breath, retreating back to snatch his vest from the ground and snapped it, shaking the dirt from it. "Don't you EVER compare me to that FUCKIN' MAN! I am not a good man, Mrs. Adler, but I am a RIGHTEOUS one! I STAND FOR SOMETHIN'!"
"Once, maybe, but now…" She chuckled, shaking her head again and climbing back onto the wagon, "now you don't stand for shit! Turned against your own alleged sons for some fuckin' asshole who panders to your bullshit."
"Micah has proven himself time and time again." He replaced the vest, fidgeting with the buttons now, shaking in rage to the point he could barely fit them through the slits on the other side.
"Fine. Keep tellin' yourself that."
"Fine! I only needed you idiots to take down Colm and now that he's dead, you all can go FUCK YOURSELVES! You, the whores, my alleged sons, and anyone else who thinks they can do better WITHOUT ME!" He couldn't even finish the buttons. He was so goddamn pissed now. Half of them were in the wrong spot and the other half were undone and he tossed his hands up in frustration and started back towards the wagon when Sadie grabbed the reins and snapped them against the horses, starting the vehicle back up the trail without him. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!"
"YOU NEED TO COOL OFF DUTCH! WALK MIGHT CLEAR YOUR HEAD!" She yelled back, snapping the reins harder and pushing the horses to begin galloping up the hill towards camp without him. He growled under his breath, watching the animals and wagon kick up a bit of dust as they rumbled up the slope without him.
"Fuck the lot of you. Bunch of goddamn snakes!" He kicked at the dirt bitterly, snarling a bit.
—-