PS5 is here! I plan to get both Red Dead Redemption 1 and 2 in a month or so.

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Chapter 24

The unpredictability of the future left Arthur very uneasy.

Right now, nothing major happened so there was no reason to put anything in the journal. But, the outlaw life most certainly did leave much for one to think 'bout, despite how Arthur'd planned to make it this time with John and his family.

John?

Speaking of which, the man was walking up to him. Arthur ain't know what this conversation meant. He didn't say much to anyone in the past couple of days.

"They're arguing again," John said. He didn't have to elaborate who "they" were.

"I bet." One day, them arguments were going to escalate into something more. There had come points where Hosea didn't even look at Dutch for hours and vice versa. "What is it now?"

"A train robbery," Marston responded.

Arthur turned away for a span of a moment, but his thoughts kept nagging at him. He slowly craned his head back at John and asked, "What is it, Marston?"

"I have been... thinking about what you said... 'bout the boy." There came the admittance. Ah, so was it possible Arthur had gotten through to the stubborn idiot? The man looked down and stiffened slightly, like the older days of a far easier time. "I don't know if I could do it, Arthur, all I know is how to shoot, kill, and rob. Being a father... he doesn't deserve that type of treatment."

"Give him something close to it, Marston," he replied. "Eventually, we'll get out of it."

Now, John looked disturbed. "I actually wanted to talk to you 'bout that." Arthur arched an eyebrow, waiting. John bristled somewhat, looking entirely pensive and apprehensive. The younger outlaw continued instantly. "Not here."

Arthur was confused 'bout what Marston was up to this time, but he decided to oblige. They led further into the forest in a secret area far from where Javier was currently carrying out his guard duties and beyond.

"Do you think," John glanced over in his direction for a moment before back at Arthur's, "Dutch lost his mind, Arthur? That he won't get us out of this?"

"Yes," Arthur admitted without hesitation. "Dutch going through with what he did... I can't make excuses for what he did any longer. Sooner or later, the law would catch up to us. And ain't many are going to get out at this point."

"You're losing faith," John offered placidly a small bit of humor to the situation. "That's unlike you, Arthur."

He shrugged. He couldn't help the shot of amusement that flooded through him. "Once, you were his favorite."

John grunted, "I'm afraid those days are long gone, Morgan."

Arthur grinned mockingly, "You know your shooting has been off. Did the wolves caught your vision?"

"Better at shooting than you," John responded dauntingly.

"You should have practiced it when you were gone for a year."

"Hmph."

Hearing the offended tone, Arthur placed his hand on his shoulder. For a moment, it reminded him of that final night on that mountain. That John would never see him.

"Ya know I forgive you for that by now," he offered in a far softer tone, clenching his hand slightly around his shoulder in the hopes of showing him that he was sincere. "You are my brother, and no matter what you would ever do, that would never change."

Silence won for a moment. Arthur let his defenses down, hoping that this wouldn't throw him off. Marston was still immature, unwilling to accept any sort of responsibility, be it to his woman or his son.

Arthur overestimated him, it turned out, for John nodded slightly and responded, "I... I guess I'm sorry, Arthur, for leaving."

"I accept your apology... under one condition." The younger waited, muscles tensed, expression stuck on him. "Be a father to that boy. You don't have to be the best, but give him a better childhood than we had. Our parents were horseshit, and well, ya know better than that, John."

John's face scrunched up into uncertainty. It was obvious that he wanted to fix that relationship, just like Arthur did. Even in the end, they weren't as close as they could have been. There was plenty of time this time. He didn't believe in second chances and all, but well, fate proved him wrong.

And then finally he responded, "I will... try, Arthur."

"I have faith in you," he responded. It was pretty close enough. Arthur wasn't going to press his luck. Hosea have been trying to do this for a long time, but Arthur's animosity wasn't exactly helpful with those endeavors. Now that John could depend on him for being the lending shoulders that he needed, it was more likely for John to carry out his duties.

The conversation should have ended there, though John didn't leave. The two stood side-by-side, just staring at the surroundings. The few animals scurried 'bout among the grasslands, the plants blending in with one another, though it set the scene.

Arthur didn't know what possessed him to ask the next question, but he did. Goddamn it, Marston wasn't the only idiot sometimes.

"Do you trust Dutch, John?"

John hesitated, "...Yes." The waver in his tone showed the lie on his lips. He was trying to avoid an argument. Trying to read him. He knew. He knew that this would stay from Dutch. John and Dutch'd debated constantly. Even though John hadn't lost as much fate as he did later on in the next few months may or may not come to be, John ain't know how bad it would be.

"I ain't judging you for it, John, 'cause I don't," Arthur stated, his tone more blunt than it ought to be, "and nothing will change that now."

He looked at him momentarily before laughing, "I never thought that would happen."

"I learn new things every day. Now, let's go check on the annoying Irishman."

Arthur and John soon arrived at the deprived shack and detected the wagon had been tethered up to two horses, spying Sean shooting at several bottles and cans.

"Shit…" the Irishman cursed, struggling to pull his gun out of the holster before firing a shot and missing.

Arthur and John both found amusement in this. John may not be the best shot, but at least he could land some bullets.

"Well, we'd found out Kieran's a better shot, wouldn't ya agree, Marston?"

John snorted. "Calling this Irish a good shooter at all is giving too much credit, Arthur."

"Ah, shut up, ya two." he answered, firing another shot and hitting a can knocking it down.

"Yeah, your job's starting the fight, ain't winning them," Arthur taunted.

"I can scrap, Arthur... I'm just no good at homework." he fired again.

"I see that."

Sean pushed forward, "Besides, what do you care, Englishman? You've got no time for me. I tried to find your work... but then you're off cutting jobs with other folks, and your boy, Sean, doesn't get a look in."

"Guess Morgan doesn't want to get shot, that's all," John responded, and Arthur looked with a smirk, recalling what he'd said something similar. Ah, great minds think alike.

"Ah, you're a real fucking funny shit, John Marston, huh? Real fucking funny."

Sean reloaded his revolver.

"Calm down." Arthur tried to play the peacemaker. "No need to worry, Sean, you just ain't a good shot."

"I am, Englishman!"

"Come on, take a shot. Come on, take your best shot, please, eh?"

Arthur drew his revolver and fired at a bottle, arching his eyebrow, "Impressed?"

Arthur and Sean holster their guns as they approach the oil wagon.

"Let me come on the raid with yous..."

"I already told you that you weren't coming," John stated, disdain clear.

"Oh, come on, scarface, what yer doing out here, yer going to need guns... yer going to need men."

"Bringing him would be like bringing Micah," John said to Arthur now.

"Compare me to that oily turd again... you're a dead man." Sean threatened.

"Sean does have his usefulness."

"Like what?" Marston asked.

"He could talk the lawmen's ears off for hours if we get captured." Arthur offered sarcastically.

John looked like he wanted to argue but he shrugged, "Fair enough."

"Imma take a nap, John."

"Anything new?" John snarked.

"Sean's yapping tends to tire me," he joked.

Sean looked at him, "Arthur... what's yer problem with me? In fact, don't tell me, I already know... ya threatened by me."

"Is that so?" he asked.

"Yeah, my youthful vigor... it intimidates ya. Ya know, it's a story as old as the hills. The changing of the guard... the fading of the light. You're toast, old man." Sean threatened, false aggression in his voice.

He actually chuckled, "That goes more to Lenny than you, boy. Have you learned how to read yet?" Arthur offered.

"That doesn't matter! I'm the future, in all its glory!"

Hopefully, not fighting for this stagnating gang. Arthur would like to believe Sean would see through Dutch when everything went to hell... if he'd been able to save him this time.

"Sounds like a future I don't want to see. Now, shut up and let me sleep." Sean rolled his eyes as Arthur lowered and closed his eyes, falling asleep.

When he opened his eyes and spotted John and Charles, his brother's hand on his shoulder nudging him awake, he gripped a pebble and tossed it at the also Sean, the small item colliding against the Irishman's cheek, and he snorted awake.

"This is going to be a party," the Irishman exclaimed, not even letting exhaustion keep him from opening his goddamn mouth as he boarded the wagon.

"Train's due through tonight." John stated.

"Me and the big cheeses, love it. Can't wait to slit some bastard's throat." Sean said.

"Easy now, boy, you don't need to kill everyone ya see. We aren't savages." Arthur stated. Sean's desire to cause trouble would need to be handled sooner or later, but in the boy's defense, he was like that at that age. Dutch was actually right 'bout that.

"Ah, you're no fun, Englishman."

John and Charles walked to the wagon. He climbed into the driver's seat beside the Irish and gripped the reins while John and Charles flanked either side of the wagon on small wooden steps.

Once they were all set, he snapped the reins, and the horses began to take off, pulling the wagon along.

"Are the horses untethered?" Charles asked.

"They are," Arthur ensured, silencing any concerns from the man.

"Good," he replied.

"You find good spot for us, Wolf Man?" Arthur asked John with a small smile.

John nodded, returning it. "Yeah, follow the trail southwest. There's a spot that's…remote, but should still give 'em enough time to spot the oil wagon."

"Well, if anything goes wrong, we can use Sean to stop the train."

Sean snorted. "I can stop that train with my eyes open, Arthur."

"Don't assume you'll be able to open your eyes after, kid," Arthur said.

"If you two are done," John spoke up, "the train picks up a new team of guards at the state line, so shouldn't be much in the way of guns to deal with."

"I can't believe this. I disappear for a couple of weeks, and you cut me out of all the action." Sean complained.

"The only action which requires a brain," John replied.

The Irishman laughed, "You're a funny feller, John Marston. From what I hear folk say, you had your feet up the whole time playing sick and fondling that new scar like you're gonna buy it breakfast in the morning."

"You don't know what you're talking about." John replied with faint sheepishness.

Sean added, "Stay close on this, wouldn't want you getting scratched by a squirrel or something. That could put ya outta commission for the rest of the year."

"Why do you have to speak so much…it's incessant." Charles remarked to the Irishman. Ironic, Arthur reflected, Charles had been one of the folks who actually missed him.

"You should have not asked him that," Arthur pretended to groan.

"'Cause I've still got some blood in me veins! You old bastards have forgotten how to live!" Sean replied.

"I blame you two for rescuing him," John stated, staring pointedly at Arthur and Charles, who rolled their eyes as they persisted along the way, the wagon soon entering the state of Lemoyne.

"Yeah, takes a while army of bounty hunters to bring in Sean MacGuire. And look at me now, in the gunner's seat! Back in business, boys! Ya know, my da always used to say…." Not this again! Arthur jumped to attention. Please! Anything but this! Even after his first death, he didn't want to go through hearing about that story again.

"Not the da, please!" John interjected.

"No, no..." Charles groaned.

"Shut your goddamn mouth, MacGuire!" Arthur shouted.

"Fine!" Sean shouted, "Damn, you three... Sulky, Angry, Scar Face. A right barrel of laughs."

They arrived at the train track.

"That was too long of a ride," Arthur pretended to complain as he put the wagon over the tracks, receiving a scoff from Sean.

"So we block the track with the wagon the jump 'em? That's the plan?" Sean asked.

"Pretty much. Charles, you deal with the engineer. John, secure the passenger car fast, take charitable donations. MacGuire, you focus on the baggage car, grab any valuables you can find," Arthur commanded. "And don't kill or hurt anybody... much." His eyes narrowed at the Irish, as he untethered his horse along with the others.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Sean complied, a groan in his voice.

"I'll run point, keep an eye out for outriders, and the law, and help you three where I can." Arthur stated. He'd trusted them to get the bloody job done. "You three, go over there. I'll make sure she slows." Arthur relayed.

"Still a bold one, you are, Arthur Morgan. Folks were saying you've been different," Sean noted with a chuckle. "I don't see it."

"Get moving," he commanded, putting the bandana on before climbing up onto the wagon. The other three dashed off to hide in the trees to wait for the train. Damn it, this was risky. He didn't know what could happen. After how much had changed, he didn't know if he could depend on that.

Soon, he heard the train coming up. Slowly it came around the bend and began blowing its whistle loudly once the driver spotted the wagon and Arthur. The other three observed and waited impatiently before the train came to a halt just before it collided with the wagon.

Arthur climbed down and began walking to the train as the driver got out. "What's going on here? What's going on?" he questioned, when Charles approached with a roar. He swung his Sawn-off Shotgun, hitting the driver and turning him limp.

Sean did the same to a guard who exited the first carriage, knocking them out with the butt of his revolver. "All yours, Captain. I'll going on ahead." He told him.

Arthur nodded and quickly entered the first carriage. The passengers all looked at him, concerned and frightful.

It gave him pause briefly, but he kept his voice level as he spoke. "This is a robbery, ladies and gentlemen. Give us your valuables and money, and none of you will get hurt."

Doing this now disgusted him.

John approached the first people in the carriage with a sack into which they placed everything they had of importance. Arthur only flanked him, feeling like shit for doing it throughout.

"I ain't got nothing," One man said.

"You wanna have a little chat with Romeo and Juliet here?" John beckoned to them.

"Look, we ain't want to hurt anyone here," Arthur forced out, "just give us your valuables and you'll be alright." he promised, unable to play this act now.

"Don't do this. Just give it to him, Thomas, please." The man's wife pleaded, and he consented, putting the valuables into the sack.

Arthur looked at them with hesitation but only for a second as his footsteps took him to follow behind John to the next carriage. Sean walked in through the back door as the two began gathering from the passengers.

"You two need me up here?" he asked.

"In fact, yes," Arthur nodded. "Keep an eye. Try not to get anyone killed."

He approached the baggage car and waited.

The guard came out and moved to slam the butt of his rifle against Arthur. He was prepared, however, gripping his weapon and slamming his hand against his head, knocking him out. However, another guard quickly emerged on the roof of the baggage car. He aimed down at Arthur, who grimly pulled out his revolver, and shot him without hesitation.

Two more guards scurried out of the baggage car upon hearing the gunshots, but Arthur put them down too, unable to bear to look them in the eye.

Damn, he'd hated being an outlaw.

Nevertheless, he checked the material within. They'd recovered some useful loot from within.

Arthur looked far and wide for the lawmen, caught off-guard again where no lawmen were approaching...

"Come on, Arthur, you got everything?" Charles planted a hand on his shoulder, shocking him.

"Y-yes, I'm fine," Arthur nodded his thanks for his concern, "come on, let's go."

He was unsure if all these changes were good or bad.