Hang Em' High [RDR2 X FEM!Reader]

You're Never Truly Alone

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The rumble of carriages drummed into the new camp, a place where new adventures would be made and new stories written. Your eyebrows raised and mouth dropped to see a large building stood strongly behind the trees. You looked at Arthur with excitement "you never told me it was a house!"
He looked at you with a mischievous smile "surprise!"

You began helping the gang unload the carts, Mrs Grimshaw began barking orders to turn this place into your new home and the gang got thrown into action. Mesmerising mutters danced throughout camp about the welcomed change of a house. Well, it was more of a manor. After a few hours, you were submerged into the darkness of night and camp had only just been set up. It took ages to bring everything upstairs, it was worth it though as you and Arthur managed to secure one of the bedrooms. It was small, old and a faint smell of mould dusted the surfaces, but you weren't complaining!

You were staring out the ancient window, through the many cobwebs you observed the gang settle down in-front of the new bonfire. A calming shiver settled on your skin as you heard footsteps come up the stairs. Arthur walked into the room with a relaxed smile on his face
"y'alright?" He asked taking off his weapons belt and placing it on the table
"yeah," you smiled back, walking over to him and resting your hands on his large chest
"you sure?" He spoke sincerely and you gave a reassuring hum while placing your ear to his heart, he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you. With your ear to his cotton shirt you could hear his heart beating. Ever since the day Cornwall's men attacked in Valentine, listening to Arthurs heart beat had turned into the most calming and soothing thing there ever was. Jesus, that day in Valentine seemed like centuries ago.
"Are you alright, Arthur?" You questioned
"I've got you haven't I?"
You pulled your head away to look at him, he was smiling back at you with that cheeky grin that stopped bullets in their path "you always have me, Arthur,"
"then I'm always alright y/n,"
His words caused your cheeks to turn rosey, but also caused a small pool of acid to form in the pit of your stomach "you know you don't have to be alright, Arthur?"
"Yeah I know, but I am. With you, I always am." He spoke with such surety your eyes pricked with tears and you buried your head into his chest, he tightened his grip around you and squeezed you tight like a toddler holding a balloon in the wind. His Smokey scent surrounding you, you were nothing but safe in the arms of your true love.

The next morning, before the sun had woken up, you jolted awake up to Arthur snoring, you elbowed him in arm and he rolled onto his side. Since his birthday the two of you had been sharing a bed and with the mixture of his snoring your bad habit of kicking in your sleep it wasn't running as smoothly as it does in the books. Not only was Arthur your true love, but he was also your first, so the only expectations you had when it came to relationships were the ones you'd read about, apart from ma and dad of course. Arthur exceeded your expectations on many occasions but sleep was his downfall, so you threw yourself out of bed and got changed before you left the hibernating bear alone in bed. Sheathing your knife under your blouse, you quietly snuck your way out into the corridor and down the stairs, since the sun was barely conjuring light you assumed everyone else would be asleep. That was until you opened the large front door and were met with a very absent looking Dutch Van Der Linde. He had his hands laid together on his lap and his hair flowed in the cool, morning wind.
"Oh, didn't see you there Dutch," you smiled
"Mhm...." He replied a moment later, you sat next to him on the short, wooden steps that lead to the house. You stared at him, his eyes looking at nothing and his mind far away.
"Dutch what's wrong?" You asked concernedly, "why are you up so early?"
"Nothing. I'm fine." He shrugged off your worry's coldly,
"Yeah, and I'm Bill Williamson," you answered sarcastically. There was no reply and a moment later you tried again "Dutch what's wrong?" As soon as the words left your mouth Dutch sprung to his feet, his hands running quickly through his hair, his chest raising and falling dramatically
"If I say I am fine then I am FINE!" He snapped, pointing at you. Only then did you realise that he was littered in bolts of sweat. You raised your guard, hand on your knife that was sheathed beneath your blouse, but after staring at Dutch hovering above you for a few moments it all clicked together. You removed your hand and stared at him. His eyes no longer empty, but fuelled only by worry. His hands hadn't laid on his lap, but were clenched together by stress. He wasn't yelling at you in anger, but fear. It all came together in your head like a jigsaw puzzle, but there still was a piece missing. Why was he so afraid? You watched him momentarily as he paced backwards and forwards, he rubbed his chin with shaking hands, the whites of his eyes larger than ever. You slowly stood up and carefully walked in-front of him, stopping him in his tracks. He stared at you and you wondered how you didn't see it in a heart beat. You softly gripped his hands and rubbed your thumbs over his palms. You didn't break eye contact, it was so obvious how scared he was. Dutch Van Der Linde, a man built mentally like a war tank, had his defences broken by the single touch of someone who cared. His face tense and hard, his body skittish and shaking. You believed nobody had ever seen Dutch in such a state.
"What is wrong Dutch, tell me." You questioned. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He wanted to tell you, his eyes told you so, but his body betrayed him. It dawned on you that Dutch didn't need an interrogation right now, but he needed a friend. He needed somebody to tell him it was going to be okay. With Jack missing, John and Abigail biting at his tail, having to move us from place to place after wars in streets, keeping the gang alive, Dutch just needed someone at his side. "It's okay," you muttered as you brought his head into your shoulder and you hugged him. You hugged him tightly. He stood there, arms by his sides, unsure what to do with himself. After a few moments he put his arms around you as well. You felt him shiver and the two of you stood like that for a while. After a while Dutch pulled away and quickly wiped his face before you could see the remains of all that he felt. He took a few deep breaths and nodded "I'm going to find Bronte today." And he walked away into the house. There wasn't a doubt in your mind that Dutch would get Jack home safe and god forbid anyone attempt to stop him. Not only would they have to face a fuming Dutch, but they'd have to face a seething you. And that, was terrifying.