Snake Skin | John Marston

The Outlaw's Return

More than a month had rolled by since John had ridden south to Mexico, yet the woman had yet to lay him to rest. She held fast to the belief that John could weather any storm. She knew it well, having spent so many years alongside him.

Y/N sat at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee, when a distant voice broke through the quiet, calling for her from outside. At first, she chalked it up to her imagination or the remnants of her nerves. She glanced out the window and saw rain cascading from the sky—a rare sight indeed. It had been a spell since they had seen any rain.

Then she heard it again—"Anyone here?"

This time, the voice sounded close and all too real, almost as if John had returned...

John was back.

Shock rooted her to the spot as she heard him call out again, "Anyone home?"

After a heartbeat, she leapt from her chair and dashed straight for the front door. With a swift motion, she flung it open, and there stood John Marston in the flesh, alive and well. She froze once more, her heart racing like a wild mustang. In that moment, the world around her burst into color.

"Ah, darling. I never thought I'd see this day again," John said, relief washing over him.

Y/N rushed into his arms, leaping up slightly to embrace him with all her might. "I thought you were never comin' back, John Marston."

John spun her around, holding her close as the rain began to fall heavier. "I'm glad you're alright, darling."

But the moment he released her, her mood shifted, and anger flickered in her eyes. Once the initial surprise faded, she was reminded of the days he'd gone silent, leaving her with that troublesome drunkard. "Where you been? Huh? Where you been?"

"You know where I've been, Y/N. You know. And I know where you've been," John replied steadily. "I stopped by the MacFarlane ranch on my way back, and Bonnie was kind enough to fill me in on your trip to Armadillo."

"Don't you dare point that finger at me, John Marston!" Y/N pushed him lightly and exhaled sharply. "You saw Bill, didn't you?"

John nodded, his expression serious.

"And Javier?" she pressed.

"And Dutch..." John nodded again before shifting gears. "How you been?"

"Like a widow," Y/N said, turning away to hide her hurt.

"That ain't fair, Y/N," John countered gently.

"What even is fair?"

"Some trees thrive while others wither and die. Some cattle grow strong, while others fall prey to the wolves. Some folks are born into wealth, dumb enough to enjoy their easy lives. Ain't nothing fair in this world, and you know that better than most."

"We tried to change. We changed, I mean, until you..." Y/N hesitated, feeling John's hands grip her shoulders as he turned her to face him.

"We did change, and that chapter's closed now," John said, a smile breaking across his face as he opened his arms wide. She stepped into his embrace, finding comfort in his presence once more.

"The coyotes wiped out all the chickens, and the poachers took the cattle. Uncle—" Y/N began, a hint of humor in her voice, but Uncle interrupted, his voice gruff, "Don't you start blaming me, woman! Don't you dare lay that at my feet."

"She ain't blaming nobody, old man. But since you're still breathing, there's four mouths to feed and no cattle left," John replied, a touch of frustration in his tone.