In 1899, rumors in the saloons began to circulate about a notorious troublemaker resurfacing to wreak havoc once more. This dishonorable and wild gunslinger was related by blood to the infamous Black Belle.
News of this spread quickly from Valentine...
John Marston had been officially declared dead, a news that shattered the woman's heart. It filled her with a burning hatred and an insatiable thirst for revenge. She knew she couldn't return to their home; doing so would mean facing a bullet without hesitation.
After long, grueling months of scouring for clues, interrogating folks across five states, and spilling blood for every scrap of information, she finally caught a break. A young, dark-skinned woman named Yoselin unwittingly divulged vital information about the whereabouts of Black Belle, not realizing that the two were bound by blood.
You might think Y/N should be focused on tracking down Edgar Ross—the man who had torn her life apart—but chasing him felt like a fool's errand. Edgar Ross and his whole network of lawmen were out for blood, hunting down every outlaw across the five states. Once again, she found herself powerless to act.
Before she knew it, Y/N had slipped back into her old ways. She was right back at square one.
"Untie me! You don't know what you're gettin' into, woman! You don't know these folks and what they're capable of!" Yoselin yelled from her position, tied up and shakin' in the saddle behind Y/N's horse.
"Look at you!" Y/N shot back with a smirk, glancing over her shoulder at the other woman. "Damn parasite."
As they rode through the rugged terrain of Grizzlies West, Y/N spotted a pair of old, dilapidated buildings rising against the horizon, their weathered facades telling tales of better days.
"You got one last chance to turn back," Yoselin warned, her voice edged with desperation. But Y/N merely shrugged off her words, her resolve unshaken. The sun glinted off Yoselin's eyes as she caught sight of a thin wisp of smoke curling into the sky from one of those forsaken structures.
"Mommy's home?" Y/N called out, glancing over at Yoselin. Yoselin was a young, petite woman, and Y/N couldn't wrap her head around why she was tangled up with Black Belle. Why join a gang at all? As Y/N approached, she spotted two men stepping out, guns drawn and aimed straight at her. They stood guard at the biggest cabin in the area, a looming structure that seemed to dominate the scene.
Dismounting from her horse, Y/N rushed to Yoselin. She quickly cut the ropes binding her legs and arms but kept her revolver pressed to Yoselin's temple, ready for any sudden moves.
"Don't shoot!" Yoselin pleaded, her voice trembling.
"Now... you gentlemen best lower your weapons!" Y/N shouted at the guards.
"Who the hell are you!? What business do you have here?" one of the men barked, his tone aggressive.
Y/N smirked, her voice dripping with mockery. "Look at you—playing the tough guy like you're made of steel," she said, cocking her gun for emphasis.
"Just give her what she wants!" Yoselin cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks in sheer panic.
"How about we just put a bullet in her instead?" the other guard retorted, his bravado thinly veiled. He clearly didn't understand who he was up against.
Y/N let out a chuckle, her confidence unwavering. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? Now, let's not make this any harder than it needs to be. Where is she?"
"She?" the guard repeated, confusion flitting across his face. "You a bounty hunter? We don't take kindly to your kind around here."
Just then, the door behind the guards creaked open, and Black Belle stepped out, a single booted foot on the threshold. "Even worse," she said, her voice steady. "She's my daughter."
The two guards stood there, jaws slack in astonishment, their eyes flicking back and forth between the two women, as if sizing up their features. It was clear the resemblance was undeniable.
"What in tarnation are you waitin' for, kid? Get on in here," Black Belle beckoned, stepping back into the warmth of the cabin and shutting the door behind her to keep the biting cold at bay. Y/N chuckled and released her hold on the young girl, who tumbled into the snow as the guards rushed to her side. Taking a steady breath, Y/N ambled toward the cabin, only to be met at the threshold by a Mexican man, his gun leveled squarely at her forehead. The irony wasn't lost on her.
"Now keep those hands where I can see 'em, la perra," the man ordered, his voice sharp and commanding. Black Belle sighed, a chuckle escaping her lips.
Y/N slowly turned her gaze back to her mother, "You find this amusing, ma?"
Black Belle nodded, a playful glint in her eye. "Daughter, meet Flaco. Flaco, this here's my girl."
Flaco let out a hearty laugh, lowering his gun. "The grande fool can't take a joke, just like her mother. Quite the spectacle you put on, bonita."
"I apologize, I must've been raised wrong," Y/N said, glancing at Black Belle once more, the corners of her mouth tugging up in a reluctant smile.
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"You weren't raised at all. Just look at you now," Black Belle remarked, a knowing edge in her voice. Elizabeth had a mind full of her daughter's misdeeds, and she made it clear to Y/N that she was well aware of her reputation around these parts.
"You're lucky I'm feelin' generous today," Y/N shot back, taking a seat across from her mother.
"What in tarnation brings you here, darlin'?" Black Belle inquired, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"I was lookin' for you. Now that I've found you—"
"Let me guess, sweetheart. You want to stick close to your old ma?"
For a moment, Y/N hesitated, then slowly nodded. "I want revenge."
"Well..." Black Belle rose from her seat, closing the distance between them, "...you're blood. And you've been mighty naughty over the years, so I reckon I'll have to keep a watchful eye on you."
They both chuckled at the shared sentiment, and their conversation stretched on for quite a while.
As Y/N recounted the whirlwind of her life over the past dozen years, Black Belle listened, spellbound. From the time she killed Agent Milton to tying the knot with an outlaw from the Van Der Linde gang, it was a tale of survival against the odds.
Everyone knew that Elizabeth Colter had never been fit to raise a child, yet she embraced the woman her daughter had become. Y/N had walked a lonely path, but finding her mother brought a flicker of hope and a glimmer of peace to mend the sorrow of her widowhood.
That said, she chose the life of crime.
"How old were you when..." John paused, choosing his words carefully, "...you chose this life?"
Y/N found the question odd. She hadn't chosen this life. The way she lived could be seen as reckless or even suicidal.
"John, you're funny to think I'd choose this life of my own free will. I never chose this life; it chose me. My mother was a gunslinger, my father a horse breeder. The only mistake I made was staying with my mother after my father went missing." - That's The Way It Is
