𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 ➵ 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗶

𝕱𝖎𝖛𝖊 | ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ɪɴ ᴀʀᴍs

     WILLOW SOLD THEIR souls to The Van Der Linde Gang, the soul of herself and her dead brother's persona. She hardly had time to really think about the decision she made during her capture and rescue. However, it simply is what it is, she's joined the Van Der Linde gang, under the guise of her brother. She has the gang to thank for keeping her alive, but more specifically, Arthur. The man from the saloon. Somehow Willow knew their paths would cross again. She could tell he could recognize her face. Willow brushed it off, she wasn't afraid of him, and if he had questions, she would lie.

It was late in the night and Willow couldn't stop thinking about her sister. The chances of finding her are slim, but she wasn't going to give in. Not like she did when William... She couldn't give up on Sage.

So far, Arthur-- however confused he seemed-- was content with the new addition to the gang. There was a part of him that was intrigued by the man's demeanour. There was a tension in the air, one of intrigue, confusion, and... something else. Something Arthur himself wasn't ready to admit.

They sat together by the fire, Arthur had to stop himself from staring, somehow, it felt as though Will had the upper hand. To meet a man knowing nothing but reputation, Will's been through what only a handful of outlaws seen in tragedy. He had a cause, a real one, like the Van Der Linde Gang did long ago.

He wasn't scared of the legend, as he would experience the man behind the ghost that struck fear into the Raiders hearts.

Their camping spot overlooked a canyon, vast with sand, rocks, and not much else. The slight wind brought a chill to the air, the gust of wind brought Arthur's attention to the graze on his shoulder. He knew he had been knicked, but he didn't have time to dress it until now. The throbbing had begun to increase, causing a grimace to befall the gunslingers lips. Will took notice.

"You been hit?" He rasped, Arthur noticed how soft spoken Will was, a familiar tone.

     They must be related, Arthur thought about the woman in the saloon, at the thought of her his stomach fluttered. Seeing Will's face was strange, as he is almost identical to her. Lost in this thoughts, Arthur came to when he saw Will go through his saddle bag. "What're you doing?"

Will continued to search, pulling out some herbs. "Under the gunsmoke, you smell like you gather herbs."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Hosea wanted us to keep them on us."

The smaller man nodded. "To make salves." He gave an impressed hum. "Smart man." He turned his attention to Arthur. "You got a mortar?"

The two spent a couple minutes in silence as Will created the salve, adding water from the canteen. When it was done, Will scooped some up with his finger. "Let's see." He instructed.

Arthur shook his head. "You don't gotta do this."

Will moved closer, awaiting him to undress his arm. "Don't want you getting sick before the gang shows up. They might think I poisoned you."

Arthur let out a chuckle. "Alright, then."

The older of the two undressed his shirt as he revealed the wound on his shoulder, as Will inspected, he spoke. "Looks deeper than I thought."

Arthur watched as Will applied the salve. "Well, they were tryna kill the lot of us." He nodded. "But we got away. We always do." As Will applied the salve, he notice the gentle care of his hands, more flashbacks to the woman in the bar. "I gotta ask something." He finally stated.

Will tensed. "Go on."

"Forgive me for asking, d-do you have a sister in town?" Arthur started with a nervous chuckle.

Will shifted his weight as he finished off applying the salve. He put some distance between himself and the man. "Yeah. That's Willow. She's the one that survived."

Arthur nodded. "She must've been one hell of a fighter to come out of a tragedy like that."

"You have no idea."

During their night of camping, Willow rested separate from Arthur in the camp they had made, she made sure to unbind away from him and take in the desert night air. She could hardly sleep from the nerves of being around someone else in so long. When the night was over she binded again, before the older man would wake.

➵

In the next night Willful Will and a posse of the Van Der Linde gang stalked the grounds of another Raider hideout. This time they had numbers, Will wasn't very used to the help, but he could sense that their help was transactional. A formality, a deed so as he knew he could trust them. Willful Will meant something around these parts, a name feared by bandit and citizen alike. It was the mystery, the gruesome scene he left behind, his image. It's what first drew the gang to him, and now, in turn he will join them.

This camp was the biggest he's ever taken, but at the very least he knows he's not alone this time.

Dutch, the gang leader, spared no man, believed power in numbers. Now they had them, Will rode with them, not remembering all the names at first, but as time would tell, they would be brothers in arms in no time.

Every man had their own horse, aside from Will, who rode with Arthur. The pair intimately sat together, Will on his backside, both concentrating on the road ahead of them. The cabin in which the Raiders were settled had a broad advantage. They could see oncoming attackers, but the night was their cover.

Dutch from his Arabian horse barked at the outlaws. "We can hit them! Fast and strong! Our numbers may still be less, but their courage is worn thin thanks to Willful Will!" The gang whooped and cheered, with the exception of Arthur and Will.

Will wasn't used to the loud, he wasn't used to the men either, but the spirit of them was refreshing. The man he shared a saddle with, Arthur kept his calm composure, not because he didn't share the spirit, but he needed to stay focused.

The Blackwater Raiders was numerous, for all Will and the gang knows, they're making their last stand.

"I only ask that we keep someone alive, Dutch!" Will shouted over the noise.

"That's right!" Dutch affirmed, he continued to shout over to the rest of the gang. "Will absolutely needs to keep one of these Raiders alive, weed out the rest! Get triggerhappy, boys! This is the Raiders last night in West Elizabeth!" Dutch rallied, and the rest of his gang hollered.

True to Dutch's word, the gang and Will overtook the pathetic hideout, guns hot, fire blazing at the feet of the Raiders. There was spirit fighting alongside the gang, but what did Willow expect from outlaws. Still, it's not like she could talk, her killings were anything but civil, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't enjoy killing, or did it only necessarily.

In its own terrifying way, it felt right, riding with them. There was this feeling inside her, familial, fear, a trauma bond as she was shot at and shooting. Taking bullets for the men around her and they did the same for her. She could feel that she was going to know these people, and they would eventually know her.

But for now, she'll keep up the Will facade until she knows it's safe.

➵