LAST CHANCE → sean macguire ✔

two , four

The sounds of a party welcomed them home, laughing and singing and cheering filled the dead swamp. A warm campfire seemed welcoming, and the group was greeted with loud, drunken cheers.

Willa shoved her hands into Sean's and settled on his knee. Javier broke out into song and the gang hummed along. Even Willa knew the tune to this one. Beer was passed around, then the whiskey came out and Willa was two bottles down before long. Jack was back home, which was a case for more cheering from Hosea, Sean and Willa.

Willa caught Kieran out of the corner of her vision, sitting alone in the dark. He was hunched over the table and a single beer was locked between his fingers. Her heart ached for him, so she got up and hurried over.

"Kieran Duffy!" He jumped up, starting to scrub the table quickly.

"S-sorry, Willa." He wouldn't look at her. She was a bit too drunk and too confused to wonder why.

"Come on, get your ass over to the fire and have a good time. You're as much one of us as I am, O'Driscoll or not." She jerked her head to the fire. Cold air had already seeped into her bones and she began to shiver. Kieran finally looked at her, smiling sadly. There was a far away look in his eyes.

"I wish it were true, Willa."

Willa wasn't having it. She refused to leave him out here alone, especially when he was looking so sad, so she grabbed his shoulders and marched him over to the campfire, sat him down in a seat beside Sean, then took her spot in Sean's lap.

"Drink. No martyr bullshit here. Have fun."

And so he did. He drank. And laughed. And drank. And sang. And drank some more. Then he out-drank Willa, who tapped out when the rain began to pour and went to bed with Sean in tow, and he drank until he threw up for a good long minute, then he passed out against a tree.

Everyone was soon passed out, and that's when they got him. In the cloak of night, while he was too drowsy and hungover to understand where he was, or why all these people were laughing, or the pain. He screamed, but his mouth was full of dirty cotton. He wanted to fight, but it was too late.

Willa woke up to a splitting headache, and screaming. Someone had the audacity to scream? She pushed herself off of Sean's chest, fumbling around for her shit, then stumbled up. Gunshots filled the air and she yelped, dropping to her stomach. The lights were too bright, blinding for a long time.

"What t'he fuck?" She heard Sean's groggy voice.

"Stay down!" She waved him away. Someone, far off, screamed something about O'Driscolls. Were they attacking? Well, shit.

Willa's eyes adjusted and she could make out Arthur and Sadie moving against the O'Driscolls, guns blazing. Sadie fought fiercer than anyone she'd ever seen before and Willa couldn't help but gape at her.

"Willa!" She turned her head to Sean at the same time that someone grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled. She yelped, but was already thrown over the crate she was hiding behind and hit the ground with a hard thump. She gasped and groaned from the pain resonating from her stitches, then she was yanked forcefully off of the ground and felt a cold metal press to her temple. The man was breathing heavily and she could feel his heart racing.

Sean, Arthur and Sadie all had guns trained on the man, but he had her. Dutch and Hosea hurried out of the house and Willa could feel the man panicking.

"Y-y-y-you l-let me g-go now, y-y-ya hear?" He shuddered.

"Let 'er go, ya sack of shit." Sean spoke first. Willa noted how his hands were shaking, too.

The O'Driscoll twitched, "Not unless you let me go. Safely."

"Never." Arthur tightened his grip on his pistol and his lips curled into a sneer. Willa would be pissing her pants from fear if she was the O'Driscoll.

"What you men did to Kieran. You're going to wish you had died in that gunfight." Sadie jerked her head to the side. The O'Driscoll was shaking now, Willa could feel it clearly.

"You don't want to do this, kid! Let the girl go and we promise you your freedom." Dutch moved closer, arms jutting out in a non-threatening move, "You're not going to like the outcome if you harm her, I can assure you. She's not expendable, like you O'Driscoll boys are to Colm. Let her go and I promise you that you'll walk away from this unharmed." Dutch shared a quick glance with Sean, holding up a single finger.

"You promise?" He sounded hopeful. Willa almost pitied the kid.

"Promise." The corners of Dutch's mouth twitched.

"Don't try no funny business, ya hear? I got my eye on ya's." He loosened his grip and Willa felt her body begin to relax.

"Wrong guys." Dutch smirked. The O'Driscoll gasped, then crumpled to the ground, gurgling. An engraved hunting knife was sticking out of his throat when Willa looked down. He twitched a few times, then fell limp. Arms flew around Willa just after Charles flashed her a relieved smile and pulled his knife from the man's throat.

"Holy shit. That was the most badass shit ever." Sean breathed into her hair and Willa laughed, hugging him back.

"Fucking O'Driscolls. Just couldn't let the kid go, huh?" Arthur sighed, frowning down at something slumped in the grass. Willa knew what-- or who-- it was before she even approached him. It was worse than she expected, though.

"Fuck." Her voice caught in her throat. She had talked to Kieran just the night before, seen him laughing and smiling for probably the first time ever. No one thought it would be his last time. She didn't even want to look at him for long, just the sight of all the blood made her stomach churn, so she let Sean lead her back to their shared tent.

"I never treated 'im right. He deserved it, for being an O'Dricsoll and all, but..." Sean sighed, "I dunno."

Willa offered a supportive smile, "Don't beat yourself up about it. Nothing we can do now but move on."

Though Willa knew it wouldn't be that easy, and this was just the beginning.