No Time To Die- ARTHURMORGAN x O/C

part 25- Getting Even

                     By late afternoon sun pours through the trees, casting dapple shadows on the ground as Claudia walks towards Dutch, who is sitting in the manor sitting by the table. After the recent turmoil and the weight of Jesse's death pressing on her, a flicker of resolve pushes her steps forward. The sweetness of vengeance begin to settle into her bones.
As she approaches, she hears the low rumble of Dutch's voice. "We need to strike back, make him pay for what he did," he says, his words slicing through the air like the sharp edge of a knife. Claudia feels a thrill at the thought. Bronte had set them up during the trolley station heist, a betrayal that had nearly cost them everything. It was time to reclaim their power, to show Bronte that they were not merely hapless victims in the game of survival.
"Dutch, we need to consider the consequences," Hosea's voice, calm and measured. "Revenge is a cycle that will only bring more suffering. This is what they want, to draw us in."
Claudia's heart races at the dissenting opinion. Hosea's caution is something she never quite understand. All her emotions regarding Jesse's death, her recent connection with Arthur, and the chaos surrounding her felt like a whirlpool sucking her into its depths. Is it wrong to seek retribution? She knows where Dutch stands on this matter.
Taking a deep breath to center herself, she enters the clearing where Dutch and Hosea stand, their expressions set like stone. "Dutch," Claudia calls, her voice steady, "I couldn't help but overhear. You want to take revenge on Bronte?"
Dutch turns to her, his gaze brightening. "Claudia! You know the man set us up, left us out there exposed to the law like lambs to the slaughter. We can't just let that go. We need to send a message."
Claudia feels an electric surge of excitement course through her. "I agree. Why shouldn't we make them pay for what they've done? We've been nothing but pawns in their games."
Hosea shakes his head, disappointment shadowing his features. "Revenge won't bring Jesse back, Claudia. It won't bring peace either. It will only put more blood on our hands and draw further conflict. We're already on thin ice as it is."
"But it's not just about Jesse, it's about respect." Claudia insists fuelling by emotion. "If we don't retaliate, we're just showing them weakness. Bronte needs to know that he can't mess with us and get away unscathed."
Dutch stands up and steps back slightly, a shadow of pride flickering across his face as he sees her passion ignite. "There you are, Claud. You've got fire in you. It's just what we need. You're right; we can't let them see our weakness. We'll reclaim our honor."
Claudia feels a sense of belonging swell in her chest, the way Dutch reverence her opinion making her feel more a player in their strategy. She reflects on her past days spent mourning Jesse's loss. It was a gaping void filled with anger, sorrow, and chaos. Revenge offers a path, a respite to her inner turmoil. It could cleanse her spirit.
"Arthur, though—he won't agree to this," Hosea interjects, glancing at her. "He believes there's more than just killing our enemies. Sometimes it's better to walk away, wait for the right moment."
"Arthur?" Claudia scoffs, the thought of him disapproving sparking a sense of defiance in her. "He's good at pretending to be a saint, but in this world, we can't afford to be soft. He has his own blood on his hands, doesn't he? Like all of us?"
Dutch's smile widens imperceptibly, revealing the cracks of manipulation beneath. "Ah, Claudia, you don't need to convince me. You're making the right choice. We'll have to keep an eye on Hosea. He means well, but sometimes that just doesn't cut it."
"Hosea is trying to protect us!" Claudia retorts, her respect for the older man spilling into her words. "He believes peace is possible, that we can keep our heads low... but look where it's gotten us! Every time we turn around, someone else is looking to take us down. If we don't strike first, we're just waiting to be slaughtered."
"Exactly!" Dutch chimes in, enjoying the escalation. "We can't be soft; we need to act before they do. Bronte's had his sights on us for too long."
Just as the conversation heats, Arthur steps into the clearing, his rugged presence shifting the atmosphere like a sudden storm overhead. He can sense the tension, the divided loyalties hanging like a thick fog in the air. "What's going on here?" he asks, his expression guarding.
Claudia feels the heat of Arthur's gaze on her but dismisses the feelings it invoked. "Dutch wants to take revenge on Bronte for the trolley station hit!" she declares, her heart racing at the prospect of him understanding her stance.
Arthur's brow furrow as he turns to Dutch. "And you're listening to this?"
Dutch shrugs. "It's not just me; the girl has a point. Bronte has crossed the line, and we need to make him think twice about crossing it again."
"Revenge is a dangerous game, Dutch," Arthur argues, his tone steady. "You know that better than anyone. It never ends well. You may hit them today, but they'll come back harder tomorrow. Blood breeds more blood."
"Every rotten son of a bitch has to face consequences!" Claudia shouts her patience thinning. "You think if we just sit back and do nothing, they'll let us be? We can't afford to show weakness."
Arthur's jaw tightens at her words, the fire in her heart clashing against his life wisdom. "You're thinking with passion, Claudia, and I respect that. But sometimes it's the cool head that prevails. There's no clear line between right and wrong anymore. If we go after Bronte, we'll unleash a storm we can't contain."
"And if we don't?" Claudia shoots back. "We become victims of our timidity. I'm ready to fight for what's right, for what's ours. You should be too."
Arthur's frustration boils within him, the tension thickening around them. "It's not about cowardice, Claudia! It's about surviving. Hosea's right; revenge puts more on the line than you realize."
"Why do you care so damn much?!" Claudia exclaims, her voice echoing in the quiet of the manor. She surprises herself at her vehemence, but it surges through her, raw and unedited. "You've killed before; you can kill again. What's stopping you?"
Arthur steps closer as he senses the storm churning. "The lives we've taken haunt me, Claudia. I can't just ignore that. No matter how justified it feels, paying in blood only leads to more blood. I don't want you to become a part of that cycle. You're better than this!"
"Better than this?!" Claudia laughs bitterly, feeling the heat of anger pulse through her veins. "How can I be better when every day we're hunted for what we are? I'm sick of being afraid. I want to take control of my life instead of being a pawn in someone else's game!"
Dutch watches the confrontation unfold with a glint in his eye, appreciating how the sparks flew between them. This was the kind of passion and loyalty he could turn to his advantage.
"Here's the thing," he interjects, attempting to calm the volatile conversation. "You both have good points, but sometimes taking action is the only way to show your power in this world. Claudia, channel this fire; it can be your weapon. And Arthur, understand that sometimes fire is all they respect."
Claudia meets Arthur's gaze, a mix of understanding and anger swirling within her. The struggle between an impulse for revenge and the wisdom Arthur shares, echoes in her heart. "You may think you're keeping me safe, Arthur, but I'm not your past. I want to forge my path, and if that means taking down Bronte, then I'll do it. No more hesitation. I won't hide behind anyone's shadow anymore."
"This isn't just about you, Claudia. This affects us all. Jesse is gone, but how many more will we lose to this madness? I won't sit quietly while you make decisions that threaten our future, your future. We're not fighting just to scar the earth and leave bodies behind."
"And what are we fighting for then?" Claudia fires back, feeling the pent-up emotions rip through her. "Sitting back quietly while people like Bronte trample over us? You're letting fear dictate your actions. You're better than that, Arthur. We should be taking back what's ours."
"Taking back what's ours?" Arthur laughs, lacing with bitterness. "Claudia, this isn't some fairy tale. We're not heroes. We're outlaws, driven by desperation. I won't see you become just another weapon in this war."
"Then what am I supposed to do? Wait until you deem it appropriate?" Claudia presses, her chest heaving with the weight of her emotions. "I refuse to be a spectator in my own life. I have a right to fight. Jesse may be gone, but I won't let that be the end of me."
"You know what?" Arthur replies, the heat rising in his voice. "You're right; you're free to make your own choices. But your choices matter to everyone in this camp. Revenge comes at a price—one you may not be willing to pay."
With that, he turns, muscles coiling and teeth clenched as he strides away, leaving behind the growing storm among their group, feeling the weight of his own frustrations hanging heavy over him.
As the air crackles with tension, Dutch exchanges glances with Claudia. "It seems you're finding your voice, Claudia. Remember it. In this world, survival often means stepping on the toes of others—and sometimes, they won't like it."
Claudia swallows hard, her chest tightening as she watches Arthur retreating back. The spirals of chaos whirl within her, yet a newfound strength begins to illuminate her spirit, emboldening by the anger that had propelled her into advocacy for revenge.
"I'm not afraid, Dutch. I won't be afraid anymore," she murmurs quietly, determination igniting within her soul.
"Of course not. Just keep your focus sharp, and we'll rise above it all. Revenge is just the first step toward reclaiming our legacy." Dutch smiles, feeling the pieces of his game fall into place.

As the sun sets and the shadows appear, Claudia  steps away from the main campfire, her heart still racing from the intensity of the discussion. She needs space to clear her mind and embrace the swell of emotions coursing through her veins. The heat of her earlier conviction sits heavy on her chest, an insist reminder of the path she has chosen to tread.
Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Claudia turns towards her tent. The familiar comfort of her belongings greet her, even as the weight of her decision bore down upon her. She moves past her bedroll to where her rifle rests , slinging it casually over her shoulder.
Claudia picks up the rifle, feeling its familiar heft settle comfortably against her shoulder. She grips it tightly, empowering herself in that moment. It's time to stand guard on the outskirts of camp—a place where she could be alone with her thoughts but also ready to act, should the need arise.
Stepping outside, the last rays of sunlight dancing upon the horizon, casting hues of orange and purple across the sky. The air still warm with a hint of twilight, filling with the distant sounds of crickets beginning to chirp. Claudia makes her way towards the perimeter where others are often stationed, her footsteps light yet purposeful.
Just as she reaches the edge of camp, she catches sight of Javier Escuella—a man she admires from a distance but she has never spoken to directly. Javier usually keeps his past to himself, his quiet demeanor hiding a depth of experience and life stories. They have shared fleeting conversations amidst larger gatherings but never had they truly engaged.
"Hey, Claudia!" he calls, his accent twinkling in the evening air. "You're heading to guard duty?"
"Yeah, just figured I'd take the first shift," she replies, an unexpected flutter of nerves running through her. "Thought it'd be good to have some time outside, away from everything."
Javier nods, stepping closer. "It can get heavy in there, can't it? All the talk of revenge and plans... sometimes it feels better to breathe a little fresh air."
Claudia appreciates his insight, a share of understanding spilling over the walls she  half-built around her feelings. "Exactly. It's been a long day, and I could use some clarity," Claudia admits, leaning casually against a nearby tree. "I don't think I've personally spoken to you much."
"Life in the camp seems to keep us busy, doesn't it?" Javier smiles, a hint of warmth beneath the seriousness that often enveloped them all. "But I've seen you. You stand strong. That rifle suits you."
"Thanks," she replies, the compliment flushing warmth across her cheeks. "What about you? I feel like I don't know you as well as I should."
"Ah," he sighs, looking off into the trees that illuminate by the fading light, "There's not much to tell", Javier ends the conversation and leaves their spot making his way back to camp. Reaching into her pocket, Claudia retrieves a small tin and pulls out a cigarette, the delicate paper crinkling in her fingers. She picked up the habit from the others in camp, a small indulgence in contrast to the chaos surrounding their lives. Bringing the cigarette to her lips, she fishes around for a match and strikes it against the rough edge of her boot, the spark igniting her fragile flame. As she brings the light to the cigarette, the smoke swirls up into the night.
As she inhales, the familiar taste, bittersweet—like a mix of relief and lingering anxiety. It seems she could spend hours lost in contemplation, but her gaze wanders back toward the heart of the camp, where fires dim low and figures wrapped up in blankets found solace in sleep. That's when her eyes fall upon Arthur.
He props up against a sturdy tree, his hat tilts low over his face, hiding the storm of thoughts that usually lay beneath his calm exterior. A multitude of emotions welling up in her as she admires him from a distance. Claudia feels a fresh wave of conflicting feelings wash over her. Despite their recent arguments and the pain that lingers between them, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Leaning against the rough bark of her own tree, she takes another drag from her cigarette, lost in her thoughts. The embers glow like fireflies, flickering amidst the darkness.
The bitter taste of smoke tinges her lips and she exhales slowly, watching the clouds curl around her head and dissipate. As she takes another pull from the cigarette, she can't help but allow herself the slightest smile. She admires Arthur's strength, and even in their differences, there is a clear truth to be found. Slowly, she begins to realize that perhaps they each need the other's resolve to find a measure of balance.
Arthur stirs, his hat slipping slightly as he angles his head. She holds her breath for a moment, fearing he might wake and catch her in this moment of vulnerability, but he remains asleep, the tension in his face easing even further into rest. Claudia's heart softens, sensing the peace he found, she makes a silent promise to herself—to understand him, to fight alongside him.
Taking one last draw from the cigarette, she finally inhales deeply, letting the smoke linger inside a moment longer before sighing it out, as if releasing the frustrations and hesitations that had clouded her mind. She drops it into the dirt, watching as the glowing ember cast tiny sparks before extinguishing in the earth. She lifts herself up from leaning against the tree, she starts walking about moving her legs before they go dead.