Know My Name - a RDR2 Story

Casting Into Confusion

Let me tell you a story about a woman who fell into two crowds: the good and the bad.
Of course, there are pros and cons to each category, but I suppose it only depends on the way you look at it...

I've decided to stop putting 'swearing' in the trigger warnings just because it's been 15 chapters and Kam has sworn in every single one of them.

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"I need you t' hold still, damn it."

"I'm tryin- yer bein' too ruff wit me- Brock, tell the man to be nicer." Bram struggled under Dante's grip, trying to tear his jaw away from the rough hands.

"You could ease up a little." Brock reassured the deputy as he held his twin's hand.

"Shut up n' focus. Follow the ligh'." Dante took his engraved lighter, lit a flame, and slowly waved it in front of Bram's face. At first, Bram moved his head away from the fire, worried that he would be burnt by the orange-yellow flames. But as Dante glared at the twin, he finally gave in and followed the light reluctantly.

Dante had positioned Bram on the steps of the doctor's office and kneeled down to him to get a good look at his friend. Brock sat next to his twin, holding his hand in comfort so the concussed man doesn't get scared. Brock has been with Bram through the worst of injuries, from black eyes to broken noses to full blown gunshot wounds.

The Van der Linde's stood aside, watching the man work with precision and caution. His hat was still missing, revealing his short, curled hair and fading buzz. Kam looked like an entirely different person. She wore clothes that hid any feminine feature so easily that one might think she was a 'he', which was exactly what Kam was going for. Her hair looked so nicely cleaned up and fresh, barely any split ends in sight compared to what her hair used to look like.

Dutch was actually surprised at how well the disguised outlaw cleaned up. A week ago, she was dressed in a white undershirt and a pair of jeans, nothing too special; now she was actually making an effort to conceal her gender while looking like she owned Rhodes. That girl was something else, that's for sure.

Dante flicked the lid of the lighter down, snuffing the kerosene fueled blaze quickly. Dante huffed slightly at the younger man's dull expression. Bram's eyes moved slowly when the light waved in front of him along with constant blinking. He definitely had a concussion, but to really know, he'd have to check for dilated pupils. Dante released Bram's jaw only to hold his hand perpendicular to his temple, creating a shadow that casted down onto the younger twin's eyes. He watched closely, waiting for some kind of dilation to happen, but nothing did.

He kept moving his hand to and from Bram's forehead, creating and then removing the shadow. Bram's eyes didn't dilate, let alone move from their dazed position. "Yeah, he's got a concussion alrigh'." Dante stood up and held his hips with his hands, staring down at the twins. "Make 'im lie down. Don' let 'im move. He needs t' rest."

"So, I just lay him down on a bed and hope for the best?" Brock asked and stood up to face Dante, looking him in the eyes.

"Pretty much. Trus' me, I've had my fair share o' concussions. Rest's the bes' way t' do it." Brock nodded at the Deputy, patting him on the shoulder, and lifted his twin up by the armpits. The older twin nodded his head at the shorter man and practically carried his brother to the hotel Dante suggested.

The older, darker haired man from behind the scene cleared his throat, enticing Dante to look over his shoulder and greet Dutch van der Linde with a light scowl. "You ready to go?" he asked. Dante didn't know what he was talking about. He was confused. Go where?