He groaned from the bed, he had been literally strapped to it for nearly four days now as both Dr. Yannick and Susan took turns tending to him. He hated it. He felt like a child in a time out as he went through the various stages of withdrawal, flip flopping between rage and despair sometimes, as his body purged itself of the bullshit he had been doing for four years.
"Please tell me we're almost done here, Pavel. This is fucking humiliating. You literally have me chained like an animal. Is it really necessary?" Dutch moaned as Susan pressed a cold compress on his forehead to wipe the cold sweat away.
"That depends on you, Mr. Van der Linde. You're still perspiring, agitated, and I suspect you're still really fiending for this." Pavel held up a large bottle of laudanum and Dutch chuckled, biting his lower lip and trying to look as innocent as possible. Yeah I fucking am.
"Doesn't appeal to me." He lied, shrugging in his bonds and having to look away so he didn't give away the fact he had just bullshitted through his teeth.
"No?" The older russian uncorked the bottle and sniffed the contents, smirking a bit as he reached for a small tin cup and began to pour just a tiny bit in. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." Dutch gritted his teeth as his stomach twisted painfully, causing him to pant a little. You goddamn asshole, I might as well be a dog that you're waving a piece of steak at, you mother fucker.
"So you don't want a sip then?" Pavel replied coldly, pushing the cup against Dutch's mouth and he laughed again, though it was obvious that he was pissed now as he tried to play it cool but flushed bright red. You can reach it with your tongue, just a little bit, that's all you need and you'll be fine.
"Dr, I hate to agree with the man but, he has a point." Susan left the compress on Dutch's forehead and pushed the cup away from Dutch who was still considering whether or not he should try to do something to get a hold of the contents.
"I'm not trying to be cruel on purpose, but much like a wild animal, Miss Grimshaw we have to train him to associate his medication of choice with consequences. Psychology they call it, really interesting stuff actually. Though, this may appear to be more like breaking an animal's spirit, I suppose. But I assure you, Miss Grimshaw I am well intentioned in my method. Addiction is as much a disease of the mind as it is the physical body." Pavel Yannick replied, setting the cup down just out of Dutch's reach on the nightstand and smirked at him again. "I've had a lot of success doing things this way. You'll be thanking me by the end of it."
"You're an asshole, Pavel. Trelawny put you up to this, didn't he?" Dutch snarled angrily, testing the metal shackles that held him to the bed as he gnashed his teeth and turned bright red for a moment. He hadn't wanted to tear someone apart this badly with his bare hands since Colm took Annabelle from him.
"Miss Grimshaw, would you mind excusing us for a moment? Patient Doctor confidentiality and all that." Pavel gestured to the door on the opposite side of the bedroom he had created specifically for Dutch in his guest room.
"She can stay, Mr. Yannick. I would like her to stay to bear witness to the torment you're putting me through right now. Someone has to see you for what you really are, you slimy, herring breathing, cruel bastard." Dutch growled, flopping back down defeatedly on the bed before looking back over at the tin cup that was just out of reach of his left hand hungrily. Calm down, there's a way out of this, we just need to take a deep breath and think about 'what next' and not 'what if'. We will get a hold of what you need, it's just a matter of when. Be patient.
"I'm not actually, I have a date with Aaron anyway." Susan snorted, turning away from Dutch who tried to throw himself upright as he watched her saunter away. He panicked, he did not want to be left alone with Pavel while chained up at all anymore, especially with how shitty he felt.
"SUSAN! WHAT ABOUT ME? YOU SAID YOU STILL LOVED ME, REMEMBER! OR WAS THAT JUST CHEAP WHORE FLATTERY!" He spat as he screamed at her but she didn't even turn around, knowing that this was just coming from his fiending for opium. She opened the door and slammed it shut, causing Dutch to roar angrily and thrash a bit. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL ALL OF YOU! BARBARIANS! ALL OF YOU!"
"Is it her you're angry with or yourself, Mr. Van der Linde?" Yannick asked as he pulled up a chair and sat down.
"Oh FUCK OFF, Pavel!" He snarled again as he realized there was no way he was going to be able to move anyway, his body ached from the repeated attempts at freeing himself anyway and he felt exhausted and weak. I'm dying, aren't I? This is how I die. Chained up like a rabid animal to wither away into nothingness. 'We die like dogs or we die free', huh? Apparently you, Annabelle get to die free while I get to die like the dog I am.
"You haven't slept for the last few nights, have you? Have you always had an issue with insomnia?" Yannick asked as he stood up again to sort through a cabinet with various jars inside of it.
"Since I was fifteen. Annabelle, helped by thoroughly exhausting me most nights. Until she got pregnant of course. I felt…wrong trying to mount her, even if I wanted to. She still performed her wifely duties, of course, though I didn't ask her to. And yes, I have tried herbs and plenty of other things over the course of my miserable existence to try to rest. They do not work. Not anymore anyway." Dutch grumbled quietly as Yannick found whatever he was looking for and pulled the jar out and went to find a rag.
"Your lack of being able to sleep properly is probably from mental stress. It's actually quite a common problem, Mr. Van der Linde. What happened when you were fifteen that caused you to become so anxious and paranoid all the time? Take some time to think about it while you sleep." Pavel began to saturate a rag with whatever the clear liquid in the unmarked bottle was, taking great care to keep it away from himself and hold his breath as he held the rag out to Dutch.
"What are you…" He felt heavy again, the liquid had no discernable scent but he could feel himself beginning to lose consciousness.
"Sleep well, Mr. Van der Linde." Pavel replied as Dutch's eyes rolled back and he completely passed out. Ether, that mother fucker.
—-
'Welcome back, beloved.' Annabelle was resting on his chest and he opened his eyes and wrapped his arms around her.
"I fucking hate this! I hate that you're not here with me to keep me company, Belle. Sue just fucking left me here with that oaf, to go court some poor bastard." He replied with a murmur as he smoothed her hair back and kissed her. He felt like he was floating for a moment and when he opened his eyes he realized that they were in fact, hovering somewhere between the floor and the ceiling. "What the fu–"
'Shhhh.' Annabelle put her finger over his lips and gestured for him to look below him, he did and realized he could see himself, well, his body anyway lingering below them.
"Am I dead?" He asked nervously and Annabelle giggled and shook her tight curls.
'No darling, you've simply detached from your mortal coil for a moment. It happens sometimes when you get put under. I think they call it an 'out of body experience'. You look like shit though. You poor man. You've really put yourself through it because of me, haven't you, darling?' She laughed and cupped his face in her hand to turn his eyes to her and softly kissed him. 'God I miss you so much.'
"I should switch to ether then, is that what you're saying?" He chuckled, pulling her mouth back to his as the two started hungrily kissing one another. "It's so good to see you, and touch you Belle. I miss you terribly."
'Darling, I'm never far from you. You don't need ether or opium or alcohol or fuck knows what else you'll take just to see me again. I know it's been difficult for you without me but–' she began and he silenced her with another kiss, squeezing the divot of her hip and making her squeal a bit. He smiled, he always did like doing that to her just because he knew she would react that way.
"Can we…can I…I want to feel you again." Dutch sighed, he had hoped he could've at least tried to say something a little more romantic to her but he just wanted her to know that he still desired her. But, this was just another dream anyway, although a rather nice one.
'You fucking animal. Really? That's the first thing you think to ask me?' Annabelle laughed, gently striking his chest with her palm and trying to shove him away playfully.
"You can't fault me for trying, Belle." Dutch laughed, pulling her back into him and pressing his face into her neck.
'I feel a little odd with him looming around though,' she pointed at Yannick who had tossed the rag in water and was yawning loudly himself, trying to shake off the effects of the knock out drugs, 'don't you?'
"Why? It's not like he can see us. Or…he can't, right?" Dutch pulled away and raised an eyebrow in concern at her. She laughed again and pressed her head to his chest, snickering and smiling. "It's a dream after all, darling. A wonderful dream. Why wouldn't I take full advantage of the moment?"
'Dutch…you are going to be alright, aren't you?' She looked back down at his body again and bit her lip and he could tell she was apprehensive, as much as they enjoyed teasing each other and pretending that this reunion was a happy one. He knew deep down it wasn't why she had appeared to him in this weirdly realistic dream. After all, this was just another delusion, though he wished that some part of it might be real anyway. He didn't believe in superstitious nonsense like she had, with spirits and mediums and tarot card readings, that was just bullshit. People were born, people lived, and people died. These occult beliefs about the soul after death, about reincarnation, God or Gods, and so on were drivel. Lies that weak minded fools told themselves to feel better about being nothing but specks of dirt, soulless and feeble.
"I don't know Belle. I know this is just a dream, as much as I would like to truly believe my 'soul' has 'left my body' down there and your 'soul' has found mine…it's bullshit. I was never an optimist, even as a figment of my overactive imagination, you should know that. I don't want to live, Annabelle. But I guess I'm not allowed to just die either. I've done my best to hide what's going on with me from the boy, from your son as well as Arthur but…I don't think I can anymore. I am tired, sweetheart. So, goddamn exhausted from all of this." He gestured at his body and looked away from her, unable to look at her because he knew she would be staring at him with that tender and loving gaze. He missed it too much, and seeing the sweetness in her eyes would just anguish him further. She had died with love in her eyes and that had been painful on its own.
"I live solely for the purpose of revenge," He continued, "something that, I know you personally never believed in, but I did and still do. No matter how much I try to pretend that I'm some noble savage with a heart of gold, I have never been a good man, Annabelle. The only reason I even attempted it was because of you. Because you tried to hold me to a higher standard. You wanted to believe in the code that Hosea and I came up with all those years ago outside Chicago. The truth is, I was lonely and Hosea seemed like a decent man to hang around with for a while so I wouldn't be alone anymore. Because I am terrified of being alone. I told him what he wanted to hear so I didn't have to be isolated anymore. And here I am doing the exact same fucking thing decades later, just so I can have my goddamn petty ass retribution. Letting these poor fools bleed and die for me, just because I've manipulated them into thinking I'm some goddamn folk hero."
'Dutch, I'm not a figment of your imagination. Not right now anyway. Some part of you recognizes that, surely? I won't argue with you on spirituality right now, or lecture you for being so apathetic towards me because you refuse to believe I'm actually here. Your 'coming to the light' moment aside,' she cupped his chin and forced him to look at her, running her thumb over his bottom lip, 'if you decide to follow through with this plan, you are going to suffer far worse than just losing me. You nearly lost Sue, Arthur, and Mary Gillis once because you didn't truly believe in the code. It took me planning with Hosea behind your back to make sure you understood why the code existed in the first place. These are people who love you, Dutch, maybe not in the way you want to be loved but there's nothing so fundamentally wrong with you that you shouldn't believe you're not worthy of it. You haven't been yourself, sweetheart, and I am so sorry that I cannot be there with you to help shoulder your burden.'
"I am in so much pain all of the time. You have no idea." He whispered back and pulled her down to kiss him again. Her lips felt so real to him and he was crushed that logically he knew there was no way this was happening, even if she insisted that this was some 'coming to Jesus' moment for him. "I don't want redemption, Annabelle. It doesn't exist for people like me."
'And I don't want to watch you go mad!' She started to cry, pulling away from his mouth and burying herself in his neck and sobbing.
"I was already mad, Annabelle. You knew that. You accepted that about me once. Hell, I guess you loved me because of it. Are you afraid of me now, beloved? After all this time." He murmured as she clung tightly to him.
'I have never been afraid of you and I never will be. But you will be put down like a rabid dog if you continue to go down the road you're on, and I did not choose to die for nothing. Don't make me regret the sacrifice I made for you. Don't be a fucking cantankerous asshole, Dutch Van der Linde, not to me. You can pretend to be whoever you like with them, but don't you do that shit to me like I'm some naive whore with more cunt than sense. Do not squander my love like I meant fucking nothing to you, you self-centered asshole You can get through this if you remember what I always said to you when you were wrapped up in your selfish bullshit. I'm going to have to let go of you soon though, I just wanted to make sure you knew I was still here, even if we can't physically be together.' She lifted herself from his chest, cupping his cheeks in her palms and pressing her forehead to his as tears streamed from her face and she groaned, trying to calm herself.
"I love you, Annabelle. And I will always love you. I will come home to you someday, in an unmarked grave next to the ridge, buried with all of our hopes and dreams, darling. You will always be the only woman who could be with a 'cantankerous asshole' like me. Even if you are nothing more than just my own mind playing tricks on me, again and again." He swept the tears from her eyes and kissed her one last time as he felt himself sinking back down towards his body lying strapped down to the bed.
'And I love you, Dutch Van der Linde.'
—-
"Well, you certainly look better this morning than you have in quite some time. Though, I'm hesitant to remove your shackles, Mr. Van der Linde." Yannick was busy checking both of Dutch's pupils, trying to get him to look directly into his pale gray eyes as he hummed while working.
"For safety reasons, I'm sure. The question is…mine or yours…" Dutch grumbled as Yannick stepped away and fidgeted with his pockets for a moment.
"You're lucky I've been putting you under for the tail end of your withdrawal period, an act of mercy, really. The forced rest seems to have done you some good though, just don't make a habit out of ether or chloroform, please. I suspect that it has some side effects we're just not aware of yet, even if it is popular like laudanum. I understand the difficulty of losing Miss McLean–" Pavel began but Dutch snapped.
"The late Mrs. Van der Linde, if you don't mind. She took my name when she agreed to marry me. Even if she didn't like using it, claimed it made her feel like she was 'riding my coattails'." He huffed and Pavel sighed, shaking his head.
"I'm trying to help you, your late wife was a good friend to me, and for her sake I am doing what I can to get you right and healthy. Even if you aren't inclined to agree. The whores in Saint Denis called her 'Lady Fortuna', because a lot of the income she received went to providing them with medical care that many of them could not afford or their pimps and madams refused to provide them with. She will always be Miss McLean to me, Mr. Van der Linde, regardless of her choice to become your bride." Pavel picked at his clean shaven face for a moment before retrieving the key from his pocket to show Dutch.
"I am going to fucking strangle you, Dr. Yannick. It's nothing personal, mind you. I just really don't like being chained up like a rabid dog, it's traumatizing." Dutch chuckled but Yannick still stuck the key in the shackle anyway and began to undo it.
"You won't. Your wife would be rather…displeased…if you did, I think." Yannick let the shackle go and Dutch tried to shake his numb hand awake again and the old Russian leaned over and began to undo the other. "When I was a younger man and ether and chloroform became available, I tried it. I'm the kind of physician who likes to experience the latest and greatest wonder drug. Tell me, Mr. Van der Linde, did you experience the sensation of being out of your own body?"
"I dreamt that I did. But it was just a dream, sir." Dutch waited until Pavel retreated before he rubbed at his wrists angrily, but he was surprised too, because for once he wasn't aching terribly. In fact, he felt pretty good other than feeling tingling in his extremities from being chained up for however long it had been.
"Ah. You're an atheist, then." Pavel snickered as he moved to the man's ankles to undo his bindings.
"I am a realist. Annabelle was the dreamer." Dutch grunted, pulling his knee up to his chest to stretch his leg as Pavel undid the last shackle on the other side.
"Were they pleasant dreams, Mr. Van der Linde? The ones I forced on you as an act of mercy?" Pavel asked, holding up the last chain as it fell from the man's foot.
"Very pleasant. I got to spend some time with her. Though, if you could put me down for a little longer, I might even be able to make love to her one more time." Dutch switched legs, stretching the other now as Pavel slipped away towards his desk.
"I would but," he held up the empty bottle of chloroform he had been using for a week now to continuously keep Dutch asleep for the most part, "you've been asleep long enough. Go take a bath. Your night woman left you some clean clothes."
"Ah, you're saying I smell worse than I look, huh?" Dutch let go of his leg and rolled onto his side, setting his bare feet on the cold hardwood floor. "Susan and I are friends, she may have been my night woman for a time but she ain't anymore. She has a man now and I respect her enough to not try to fuck that up the way I fucked up my own marriage by being arrogant."
"Ah you've been in and out of consciousness for a week, so you don't know then…" Yannick rubbed his face with his hands and sighed.
"Don't tell me she's pregnant." Dutch groaned, worried that if he actually put weight on his feet that he might crumble to a heap on the floor as he felt the hardwood squeak underneath him. Not another fucking baby, just to have it inevitably die like Issac and mine. I can't deal with that responsibility.
"He's dead. Seems that you had some old friends in town. The O'Driscoll boys." Dutch snapped his head towards the doctor and stood up angrily, flushing red and snarling as he leaned on the bed and glared at the man.
"Colm. Where is he?"
"Gone. Led here by the same thing that brought you to Blackwater. Ming and O'Shea. Of course, you got here first and he tore apart a good chunk of town looking for you. But, I know how to keep a low profile, so I wasn't worried about it when your friend slipped in through my backdoor to hide out and mourn." Yannick replied quietly, shuffling papers on his desk and seeming disinterested in Dutch entirely.
"I still don't like you, but…" Dutch paused as he went to walk to the door out into the hallway, hesitating at the doorknob, "I got to dream about her for a while, and that means a lot to me. I'd like to believe it was some divine interaction, some sort of 'out of body experience' that the ether caused to happen, but I know deep down how delusional that is. Annabelle is dead and I will never see her again, except when her grave sprouts wildflowers in the spring because that's where she is now. And someday, hopefully soon, I will be too."
"You're welcome, Mr. Van der Linde. Let me know if you ever require my services again." Yannick didn't look up from his desk as Dutch opened the door and stepped out of the room to find Susan. That poor woman, he sighed as he thought about it, none of us can catch a break can we?
'Darling…'
No. Not this time. I know you aren't her and no matter how many times you cry out to me, I will ignore you calling for me from the abyss. I created you, to keep me company but it's time for you to go.
—-
"Hosea, do you have a moment?" Dutch had decided to leave his tent to go chat with the boys by the fire. He felt better than he had in a long time, even though somewhere deep down he still felt his grief and anguish, but they would never really go away he realized.
"I don't want to speak to you right now, Dutch. Leave me be." Hosea grumbled, his hat over his face as he pretended to try to get some sleep in front of a smaller camp fire near where Swason liked to rest.
"I know. I need you to just listen for a while, if you don't mind." Dutch stepped over a log they had turned into a sort of stool covered in a ragged deer pelt. He placed his forearms on his knees before crossing one of his legs over the other.
"I guess." Hosea snorted, not even looking as he reached for the bourbon bottle beside him and went to take a long drink off of it but it was empty. Dutch chuckled, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a small bottle and cracked it open. Hosea lowered his hat and sat up, extending his arm out and gesturing for Dutch to give him the booze.
"Here," Dutch had taken a gulp off of it before handing it to Hosea who greedily sank back against the log and practically pounded it, "we're really hurting, aren't we? How did she pass, Mrs. Matthews?"
"I thought you said you wanted me to listen, Dutch." Hosea panted, wiping the excess alcohol from his face and pulling his hat back down over his face.
"I did say that. I am sorry for your loss. Bessie was a wonderful woman and I'll miss her. Now I know that, just saying so, doesn't really do much when you're grieving but…if there's anything I can do for you, you'll let me know won't you?" Dutch raised an eyebrow but Hosea folded his arms in response and said nothing.
"You weren't here when I returned, so I never told you what happened," Dutch began, picking at his mouth for a moment and exhaling loudly, "Annabelle and I were attacked by Colm O'Driscoll. She…I…she bled to death, died in my arms and told me to 'keep moving forward'. I know I haven't been living by the code lately, but I'd like to. And I need you to help me remember how."
"Arthur told me, well…about what you were all doing in Blackwater with Trelawny. I am sorry, Dutch. No one deserves to die the way she did. I guess, in the end, we're lucky in a way." Hosea quietly replied, lifting his hat off his face to take another long drink from the small bourbon bottle and left a mouthful for Dutch as he sat up again and went to pass it back to him.
"How?" Dutch snorted, taking the bottle from his old lieutenant.
"We were there for them when they passed. I could've been away, attending to business on your behalf, but I wasn't. We got to say goodbye to our women, Dutch–"
"I am not ready to say goodbye to Annabelle, Hosea. Not until I kill that son of a bitch and tear his gang to pieces, the way they tore her to pieces in front of me. Now, I have a plan but I need your help. Other than her, you're the only other person who wasn't afraid to confront me, isn't afraid to…remind me of 'what next' instead of 'what if'. Can I count on you?" Dutch replied, polishing off the remaining bourbon and tossing the bottle away from him and into the grass.
"When I am done grieving my wife, I will help you grieve yours. But right now, I want to let it consume me, Mr. Van der Linde. I realize that may inconvenience you–" Hosea leaned back again but Dutch cut him off, staring at the ground as he stood up again and tugged on his vest for a moment.
"Take all the time you need to. I can wait. The needs of this family come first, Hosea."