Chapter 10
Like last time, Arthur was able to catch up with Kieran. He couldn't allow him to escape, or the poor boy could freeze to death. But he didn't want to be too aggressive with him either.
This was 'cause he knew one thing. Kieran Duffy was more tragic than him. With Hosea and even Dutch, he had good moments when he was able to just enjoy the times as they bickered, laughed, and relished in each other's company.
He didn't realize how much he'd appreciated the boy's company 'till it was too goddamn late. Kieran had a remarkable knowledge of horses, due to him taking care of them as a child, and again for the O'Driscolls, connecting with 'em well. He would like to think that the poor boy wasn't on a timer and could make it, though Arthur had to be careful.
Arthur threw his lasso and wrapped it around Kieran, pulling off the boy from the retreating horse, allowing him to collapse onto the snowy ground. He immediately disembarked and tackled him without hesitation. The man didn't even had the time nor willpower to resist, but he still squirmed helplessly.
"Let me go! Let me go! Please! Let me go!" The boy sounded near tears. It sent an ache through his chest. He knew that he was a fearful face, especially when he'd attacked. There were plenty of people who feared him in over twenty years, but now seeing Kieran afraid saddened him to an immense proportion.
"Boy, calm down!" The gunslinger barked. After seeing the fight retreating from him, Arthur looked down. "Look, I know you ain't with the O'Driscolls, Kieran Duffy, at least not by choice. I want to give you an opportunity to prove yourself."
Kieran's eyes widened as he calmed down and nodded. "Ye-yes, sir."
"You were a slave to Colm O'Driscoll," Arthur pointed out. It was a brutal fact. Colm and Dutch viewed their men similarly. The only thing was the latter didn't attempt to hide it. "You were 'bout to be send out to hunt for food for him. When we attacked, your friends died. We make you sound sympathetic."
He had several good bruises that he had gotten by Colm so that wouldn't be too hard to use as a story. More so, Arthur had to make sure the O'Driscolls wouldn't be able to find him. Disappear with him after making sure he'd gotten that far.
"Come on! You got to trust me, boy!" Arthur practically pleaded.
Kieran looked him in the eyes, seeming to be trapped between taking his chances with attempting to escape, or going along with Arthur's plan, which could very well be a deception.
"I ain't leading you to a trap, son, I'm trying to save you!" He couldn't help the way his voice broke out into a desperate plea.
The man nodded after two seconds. There was ultimately no other choice. He sat up on his knees. "How did you know my name?"
"I have heard 'bout the O'Driscolls," Arthur answered after a few seconds of contemplation and winked. He gripped his hand and helped the boy up, helping him on top of the horse and joining him seconds later.
The honorable outlaw pulled on the reins and took off.
"So why did you target Co-Colm anyway?" Kieran asked.
"It's a stupid feud. The leader of my gang, Dutch van der Linde, killed his brother and Colm decided to take the girl," Arthur kept on the trek back to camp.
"Wait, so your leader started it, but..." Kieran started, expression surprised.
"Don't ask," he interjected. The poor boy closed his mouth, taking that as a threat more than Arthur actually agreeing with him. "Listen to me, kid, most of these folks are decent folks, but there are a few crazies. Just answer Dutch. Don't say nothing out of place. Don't do nothing."
They came back through the entrance of the camp.
"It's Arthur!" Lenny shouted in joy, before his face darkened upon seeing the lowest O'Driscoll of them all, "And..."
"I got this." Arthur dismissed. "He ain't what you think he is, ain't that right, young Kieran?"
"Oh, well, you can explain that to Dutch," Lenny said, all too trustworthy and confident in Arthur Morgan. "He's in the stables over there. The O'Driscoll ain't pleasant company, that much is for damn sure."
Arthur nodded and motioned Kieran along. He heard a yelp of agony and looked up to see Dutch, Micah, and Bill surrounding the poor O'Driscoll from earlier, now conscious.
"Why, you were right, Mr. Williamson, I'm afraid water and grease don't mix after all," came the familiar baritone of Dutch van der Linde's from a distance.
"Fuck you," the O'Driscoll squealed.
Another sound of splashing greeted Arthur's ears, and another shout of pain escaped the squirming boy. Goddamn it. He shoulda killed the boy. Snapped his throat when he wasn't looking. But Arthur honestly didn't even consider the consequences of rescuing Kieran, that another would have to suffer similarly, and for what? Colm was dead. Did Dutch seriously wanted to wipe the O'Driscolls out? The one currently being tortured was more loyal to Colm O'Driscoll than Kieran ever could be, but still unfortunate.
"What have we here?" Arthur inquired, walking up, doing his best to hide the nausea building up.
"The O'Driscoll have been giving Mr. Williamson and Uncle a difficult time when he stirred..." Dutch walked up. "You found that little shit, did ya? Should he be more cooperative, son?" the leader of the Van Der Linde gang asked, stepping closer, his face illuminated by darkness. Kieran shrunk slightly.
He stepped in front of him, shielding him from the man. "I believed that too, but he told me what really was going on between him and O'Driscoll. He was a slave, someone who was taught to go out and somehow get food. Their marks all over his body. That's what he was doing before I caught up to him."
"Oh, is that so?" Dutch's demeanor changed, his face going from cold to calculated and considerable. Typical Dutch, taking advantages of people at their lowest points and bringing them up to become unmerciful killers. Arthur doubted that Dutch would be able to win Kieran over. The man had seen through him in the other life. The boy was smarter than he looked.
Perhaps someone who Arthur could for sure refer to as a true ally.
"Yes, Kieran was assaulted and beaten for months, the lowest of the bunch," Arthur kept the lie going.
Dutch nodded slowly. "You have a last name, son, or is it just Kieran?"
Kieran swallowed and stood straight at those domineering eyes. "Kieran Duffy."
"Well, Mr. Duffy, would you happen to know this O'Driscoll who is our guest in my camp?" Dutch led them back to the captured O'Driscoll.
"Oh, that's Morris Steinburn," Kieran replied, loyally staying good to the act. "He's one of Colm's good snipers."
"Perfect!" Dutch beamed.
"I always knew you weren't shit, boy!" Came the tormented voice of Steinburn, glaring up, as he tried to wrestle for freedom from where he was tied up, failing to do so. "Colm would-"
"Colm is dead," Bill laughed viciously. "So are many of your boys..."
"Your friends," Dutch added with no hesitation.
"The rest will come! And we will wipe you all out one by one!" The man vowed pitifully.
"Such loyalty to your gang," Dutch's mustache churned up in amusement, "I have a saying, my friend." Oh, not this again. "We shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving, and feed 'em as need feeding. We know what Kieran here needs. We'll figure out what you need."
"You'll pay, you piece of shit!" The O'Driscoll hissed, glaring at Kieran. "There's always a reason why Colm never treated you well! Why we all thought you were a softie! Shoulda killed you a long time ago!"
"I'm going to have real fun with him, wouldn't you agree, Dutch?" Bill inquired, looking like a puppy to a master demanding approval.
"Oh, that wouldn't be necessary, Mr. Williamson. Hopefully, his behavior changes with the lack of refreshments," Dutch said, placing a hand on the fatter man's shoulder, giving him what he'd needed. The O'Driscoll looked horrified, eyes widening as he stared at Dutch, his eyes saying everything. He received an impassive look. "Ain't that right, Arthur?"
"Sure," he responded. No matter how much of a bastard the O'Driscoll - most within the gang - was, didn't meant that killing him wouldn't solve the problem. Given his loyalty to Colm, it was unlikely that he would squeal as Kieran had or turn on the O'Driscolls as a whole.
Micah added in a mocking voice. "To wipe them out one by one. Killing all of his friends. We should bring 'em in front of him, wouldn't you agree, Dutch? So-" his eyes became sadistic, "he could rethink 'bout his standing?"
"We shall see," Dutch allowed, obviously fighting a smile to keep at bay thoughts of Micah's suggestions. "Come on, let us leave our little friend behind to get well acquainted with the place."
"You will die, all of you will die!" The poor man shouted as the five men exited, ignoring him. Dutch, Arthur, and Kieran stopped while Micah and Bill kept walking to their cabin. The former was groaning in displeasure while the ex-military soldier was now confused, eyeing Micah.
When they were out of ear shot, Arthur began to speak to the Van Der Linde gang.
"I think we can give Kieran here women duties for the time being," he declared. It was better than the boy being tied up for weeks and deprived of any food or drinks. He wouldn't be this time. If word spread that the boy was a slave to the O'Driscolls who were expectant to throw himself at the knees of Colm, and Dutch knew but decided to torture him nonetheless, it would lower trust in him, even slightly.
Dutch was many things, but his main strength was intelligence. Keeping his allies at his side. He must present himself as a sympathetic figure, and it was obvious that few agreed with Arthur 'bout the events that happened at Blackwater, despite being fiercely loyal to Dutch, nevertheless.
As for Kieran, he would struggle at first, but Arthur could shrug that up with excuses 'bout fearing failure or whatnot. Having women around camp fulfilled their roles of sewing, cleaning, washing the gang's dirty clothes, guard duty, medical care, random labor around camp, and small-time criminal activities, was a major bonus for a band of criminals in this time. Besides, the women would appreciate an extra hand for the time being. Also, Mary-Beth and Kieran'd hit it off quite well last time.
Additionally, Dutch would take any opportunity to convince himself that he was a hero.
At that, he'd tried to imagine how Dutch would end up in the... last time? Other time? It ain't 'ought to be anything good. The man'd lost it for a long time.
"Ms. Grimshaw," Dutch said to the woman walking over. "Take Kieran here. Feed him. Give him a bed. And have him work tomorrow with the women."
Susan raised an eyebrow.
He nodded in understanding and smirked slightly. This time, Arthur couldn't blame him. Not often do you see a man doing women's duties these days. "He was a slave for the O'Driscolls."
Situation understood, Susan led him to the cabin with the women.
A life for a life.
Very likely, they wouldn't have to ever travel to six point cabin, meaning that John could rest up for a little bit longer, and they could focus more attention on that whole operation. Last time, they were fortunate to being able to rescue Sean before he was dragged off to a federal prison. This time, they might not receive that fortune.
Arthur began moving to the cabin when Uncle stepped in front of him. He had a soft spot for the man. He had noticed the gang was deteriorating and wanted to know if everything was going to be okay. Beyond that drunk exterior, he'd cared 'bout the gang and saw through the bullshit Micah spewed. That was more than Arthur could say 'bout some.
Still, he couldn't help the sarcastic comment. "Look who finally came out of the abandoned schoolhouse to come into this endless land of snow. When are you going back?"
Uncle snorted, slightly, but smiled. "I just want to know if you're alright. You haven't been yourself lately." The man said, a beer in his hand, but he hadn't been drunk yet. Just a little tipsy if that was what one could call it.
Arthur sighed, knowing that this was the same man who selflessly stood up for John and especially Abigail when Javier was going to get aggressive. "I have been the same... just more careful."
"Well, I had seen you calling out Dutch 'bout that Blackwater business. I know it was horrific what happened there, but that was unlike you." Uncle did his best to sound reassuring. "Ya know, I know you think I'm just another drunken fool, but I'm here if you need me. You don't have to go whatever you're going through alone."
Although tempted to disclose what happened or what could happen to him, he shook his head. "I'm fine, ya jester, go do some goddamn work, why don't ya, old man?"
The man saluted. "Yes, sir!" But remained...
Arthur faked annoyance in his tone, betrayed by his lips twitching up into a smile. "Catch you later then."
He clapped the man in his shoulder in appreciation before he walked up to the cabin. He heard footsteps behind him and the soft, meek voice:
"You're... back."
"Mrs. Adler," Arthur said gently in greeting.
"They said you'd killed the leader of that gang," she noted.
"I did," he confirmed.
He gripped her hand. "You're going to be okay, you hear?"
"My husband..." she whimpered slightly. She was quiet for a moment. She shook her head and then asked meekly, but with anger in her tone. "...Was a fat one with a beard there?"
"No."
The widow licked her lower lips, "Nice to know."
"Mrs. Adler, I'm real sorry about all of this." Yet again, he wished he could have saved him. A day earlier, and he would have been at the Adler's house, damn it all. Could have maybe saved Davey as well. But life out here was rough. "-but," he continued, "revenge is a fool's game."
Wrong words. Something snapped inside of her. "I have to kill that son of a bitch! He took him from me!"
"Your husband, I'm pretty sure, was a good man," Arthur countered with sympathy and pity. "He wouldn't want that for you."
"You didn't ever lost anyone important to you!" She sobbed.
Arthur was silent 'cause those words cut deep. Eliza, Issac, Jenny, Mac, Davey, Sean, Hosea, Lenny, Kieran, Ms. Grimshaw, Trelawny, Reverend...
Dutch, Javier, Bill...
All of the others...
To either death, departure, or betrayal.
While the words sent a stab to his heart, he felt nothing but emotional turmoil for the weeping woman in front of him. She glared at him for a few measly seconds, trying to keep her sobs under control, then her composure shattered.
"You don't lecture me!" She fell onto her knees into the snow and cried. It was hard to believe in a few short months she would be a hardened gunslinger, ready to take on the challenge of the world.
Not even having the heart to be angry with her, Arthur collapsed and collected her into his arms and allowed her to sob 'till her tears went dry. Her violently shaking body stopped, and she only sobbed quietly now, the tear strands traveling down her eyes.
When it ended, Arthur gently led her inside of the cabin, alone. He had to remember that none of them were not the people they'd grown into.
"I lost," he related to her, "my son. His mother? A waitress. Only 19. Robbed and murdered for a paltry sum of ten dollars." He didn't realize his own tears were falling. It was still awful. They were good kids. They'd deserved so much more. "Eliza and Isaac's deaths deeply scarred me, contributing to my cynical view of the world and of the life I led. Their deaths also caused me to value the concept of family and the gang even more, but..." pain flashed across his face, "I wish I could have saved them. Would have sacrificed myself if only that boy could live."
Even now.
Fuck whatever Dutch and Micah did.
Arthur would rather replace his son sixth feet under and warn him of everything in his last words, or just take them out discreetly and let everyone else make their choices.
All this talk, no bite...
"I'm-I'm..." she started, horrified, realizing what she'd said to him.
"Don't apologize. I just wish I could have helped them. I only visited them every few months and stayed with them every few days. I wished I had more time with them." It was a pain to know that would always be his biggest failure. If he was sent that far back, Arthur might have had the "fuck all" mentality and left the gang, convincing John to do the same. But then again, maybe not. Even now, he'd wanted to save folks when he could easily turn tail and run. It was a sign of how much obedience he formerly had, how much of an obligation he felt like he'd owed the whole gang.
Dutch's untamed leadership would lead the gang to collapse, and everyone would burn in one final stand if they were lucky. If not, they would be picked off one by one 'till there was nothing left, a remnant of what they once were. Inevitabilities, it was.
"They were close to you," she noted softly.
"Yes," he nodded. "But now, I'm thinking 'bout what both would have wanted for me. They wouldn't want me to continue to murder senselessly, hurt innocent people, get revenge, they would want me to move on. To be as happy as I can be. And I'll try. I'll try. Your husband loved you, and he wouldn't have wanted you to not be happy. You gotta give respect to his memory. Having blood on his name out of revenge would accomplish nothing."
Sadie didn't explode again. Her hands fidgeted, agony and anger flickering across her face, but she didn't take either out on him. He was getting through to her. Slowly. But it was progress. What did the other Sadie Adler accomplish? More emptiness at the end. He should have tried harder to convince her not to go back. He'd wanted to help.
'They turned me into a monster.' Words said after her and Arthur raided Hanging dog Ranch.
She doggedly pursued the people who ruined her life, and when it was all over, realized that it doesn't just make the pain go away. All she was left with the memories of her past life and the stark reminder of how she couldn't ever go back to that. A bloodthirsty outlaw consumed by vengeance who missed the days of her happiness with Jake. Once she got her vengeance, she had nothing else and in her eyes, she definitely couldn't go back to being a simple housewife with the all of the people she had killed.
Arthur didn't know what happened to her last time after the gang fell apart, but he couldn't allow her heart to be consumed by hatred. Mourn. Grieve. Those men raped her and tore her life apart. It was one thing for Arthur to say revenge is a fool's game, he wasn't wrong, but for Sadie there was literally nothing else. When she said she couldn't reenter polite society she was absolutely right, she was a widow and if the O'Driscolls were true to form, she was a "soiled" one at that. Combine that with running with a gang, and if she hadn't turned into a bounty hunter or anything of the sort, her only road would've led to prostitution.
Nevertheless, it won't happen again.
'Not this time.'
"Killing that bastard won't bring your husband back. At the end, you'll feel relieved for one moment, but then you'll be hunted by emptiness as you'd put your husband name in vain. Letting karma strike him 'cause it will happen would be enough. We got his leader. You have the chance to grow a connection with some folks here. You can have a family, Mrs. Adler, but that can all go away if you don't let it go."
He placed his arms around her, knowing what was to come. Her head buried under his chin, and she cried delicately onto his coat. He felt a tear drop at his open collar and roll down his chest. It was a mysterious and intimate feeling. He continued to hold her, nevertheless.
After a few minutes that felt like hours, the widow's sobs had died down to slight sniffles. "I'm sorry," she whispered in a croak from beneath his chin. "I guess I... I don't know what to do anymore." He noticed she was staring at him, the same way he did to the Nun when he was lost not that long ago.
"You're lost, but your husband died, hoping that you will live. Don't go and disgrace his memory 'cause of your vengeance." Arthur repeated the words told to him not too long ago, the principles that he'd followed now, as he buried his hands into her hair.
She stayed in his embrace, still and quiet and he couldn't deny that she felt good in his arms. Maybe a little too good.