This story is about Red Dead Redemption 1 & 2, a game produced by Rockstar Games.
I DO NOT own ANY of the characters in Red Dead Redemption 1 & 2, all credits go to Rockstar Games for the creation of the characters and the plot line.
This book is Ge...
Hello Everyone, this will be a part 2 to the previous oneshot!
⚠️WARNING SMALL SPOILERS⚠️
This is going to be going into the Epilogue of Red Dead Redemption 2. Also! This actually doesn't take part in the ending of the Epilogue, I've changed a bit of it up.
~Word Count: 2972
Enjoy!
Y/N - Your Name L/N - Your Last Name
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Years Later
I'm on horseback, riding along side with Sadie Adler. We've been on our own for the past few years ever since what happened at Beaver Hollow.
We usually don't talk about it much, trying to forget the memories. But, lately we've been forced to bring up what happened. Sadie and I have dug up recent information on Micah, she thinks she heard someone sound like him.
We had also found John Marston, poor feller trying to build a ranch for his family. He's been looking for work, trying to pay off debt from the bank.
So, as me and Sadie are off chasing bastards for bounties, John's tagged along. It's been fun, but we've all almost gotten killed from how many times we've all been shot at.
"You know, I heard John found Uncle and Charles." Sadie looks back at me, and my eyes widen.
"Charles? Charles Smith? I thought he was dead!" I gasp, and look to Sadie. She grins, and continues "Poor feller was over at Saint Denis, became a wrestler. Made money off of it."
"Poor man, I wonder if he'd ever known that some of us were still alive." Sadie looks back at me, then at the sky.
"John said he thought we were all dead, after what happened to Arthur." She sighs, and continues "He got a proper burial, he atleast deserves that much. I think it really affected John too, Remember that journal that he used to be scribbling in all the time? John took it, and he writes in it now."
Arthur's journal. I had only seen it once, and he was drawing the valley when we had moved camp.
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I smile to myself, "I remember when things were good back then, and we didn't always have to run off. Sadie, if only you were there. We were all happy, no runnin' all over the east. Pinkerton weren't always chasing us like dogs." I frown, and grip the reins of my horse. I look down, and mumble, "I remember when Dutch wasn't always so... different."
(From here down, I've changed a bit of what's happened at the end of the Epilogue.)
A few moments later, we're in Blackwater. We hitch our horses, and walk into the Saloon.
