Bad Beginnings (A RDR2 Fanfic)

Damn O'Driscolls

Arthur found himself awake in his tent in the dead of night. The yips and cries of the coyotes in the quiet desert night, and the cold piece of cloth on his forehead, made him subconsciously shiver.

He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but the voices outside kept his brain from going silent.

"What the hell did you do to the boy?" he heard Hosea ask to, he was guessing, Dutch.

"I hadn't done anything I didn't need to," Dutch replied elusively. Arthur knew that it would take a hell of a lot of effort on Hosea's part for Dutch to cough up his mistakes.

"Sure," Hosea replied sarcastically. "I came back here to the kid on the ground, baking alive!"

"He's fine," Dutch said dismissively. "I have other prob-,"

"He could've died, Dutch," Hosea interrupted. "I don't know what the hell you did, but you could have killed our boy!"

Dutch didn't respond. Arthur peeked through one eye to make sure they were still alive out there. Hosea looked contemptuous, while Dutch, for the first time Arthur had seen, looked genuinely remorseful. Afraid, even.

Without a word, Dutch ducked into his tent. Arthur heard the older man sigh, then get into his own tent.

Arthur couldn't will himself to sleep that night, so he lit his lantern and doodled and wrote in his journal, until the sun rose in the east.
———
At noon, Dutch and Arthur rode out to the house they were talking about robbing. Hosea went into Armadillo to get information on another lead.

Arthur hadn't said a single word to Dutch. When he looked in the mirror that morning, he found a scabby line on his cheekbone where Dutch's rings had cut into him. He hadn't felt as much remorse as he did now. Not remorse for getting in the fight, but for not hitting Dutch back.

The landscape slowly changed from blank desert to more wooded hills. Arthur pulled on his jacket when it got cooler out.

"Let's leave the horses here," Dutch finally said, after they had cut off the path and into some trees. "We need to be quiet."

Arthur nodded, dismounting. He hurried after Dutch, after giving Beatrice a few pats on the neck and retrieving his hat from his bag.

Dutch crouched on the hill, looking down at the large house through his binoculars.

"Okay," Dutch finally said, passing Arthur the binoculars. The house was massive, with light walls and dark ornate shutters next to dark windows, some boarded up. It had a wrap around porch with thin wooden banisters and a steep roof. "It looks like no one's home. We're going to get in, take what we need, and get out."

"Okay, sir," Arthur replied. "What do we do if they get back?" Those were the first words he had spoken to Dutch all morning.

"We'll just shoot our way out," Dutch replied, simply and curtly.

"Great," Arthur said sarcastically. "Very well thought out."

Dutch sighed, snatching back his binoculars. "Faith, Arthur. It's not difficult," Dutch snapped, putting the instrument back in his bag. "Let's go."

Arthur rolled his eyes before following Dutch down the hill and to the building. Dutch shot the lock with a loud bang, and both entered.

Dutch sent Arthur upstairs to search, while Dutch himself searched the kitchen. The silence was only interrupted by the opening and closing of drawers and the sound of Arthur's footsteps on the wooden floor.

Arthur found a few pieces of jewelry and a money clip in a chest. There was a fireplace upstairs, so when Arthur stuck a hand up there, he was very pleased to find a solid $150.

As he was tucking the pile into his bag, a loud noise broke the silence outside. The sound of hooves. Arthur peeked out the window, and couldn't help but curse. It was a large group of men with green bandanas.

He heard running up the stairs. Arthur drew his gun, but lowered it when it was only Dutch.

"Damn O'Driscoll's," Dutch growled, looking out the window. "Any ideas?"

"I've got nothing, sir," Arthur replied. "There could be a back door?"

"Not enough time," Dutch replied. He paused. "Actually... I have a plan." Dutch pressed a knife into Arthur's hand. "When a couple of them come upstairs, we'll kill them. Quietly."

Arthur and Dutch ducked into doorways on opposite sides of the stairs. Eventually, two men came up. Arthur and Dutch struck, stabbing the men in the neck, causing blood to spray everywhere, then lowered them gently to the floor.

"I think I'm going to need to get a new shirt after this," Arthur whispered, examining his blood stained shirt. He tiptoed down the stairs, and peeked down into the main room. There were three men there. He remembered counting 10 coming in, so that means five of them were somewhere around the property. They decided just to shoot their way out.

Arthur fired first, hitting one of the men in the shoulder. Dutch followed, putting bullets into the other two men.

They ducked under windows and fired out onto the yard, hitting men outside. When the enemy firing ceased, they exited, whistling for Beatrice and The Count.

As they were mounting the horses, more O'Driscolls came out of the trees.

"Let's go, Arthur!" Dutch yelled, firing behind them. Arthur clambered onto Beatrice, then they took off, craning their necks behind them to see what they were shooting at.

When they thought that they were almost in the clear, however, pain suddenly hit Arthur's shoulder. He got shot. He couldn't help but cry out, causing Dutch to turn, until a bullet whizzed right by The Count, spooking the animal, causing him to run off with Dutch, leaving Arthur alone.

Gripping the reins with one hand, other pressed to his wound, Arthur struggled to stay on his horse, desperate to catch up to Dutch, as the corners of his vision got dark.

When a bullet narrowly missed them, causing Beatrice to rear onto her hind legs, Arthur knew he was going to tumble off and hit the ground hard.

He didn't struggle when the O'Driscolls found him. He still didn't struggle when Arthur recognized their leader, Colm, who spit in his face. They kicked the shit out of him, causing Arthur to pass out eventually, from the lack of blood.

His last thought was him hoping that Beatrice was okay.