Red Dead Redemption 2 - One Shots, Lemons and Imagines

Micah Bell: I'll Kiss It Better - Part 2

(You had no choice but to return to camp. It was your home after all. However, after that entire episode with Dutch, you decided to take Arthur's advice. You knew now that you needed to hurry and escape. However, Micah walks in to find you packed.)

Requested by: rico1123

Word Count: 1438

Reader's Point of View: 

   Every single part of my being screamed every single reason that I shouldn't go back. Dutch's mind had been completely tossed down the rabbit hole, all because of that horrendous snake that had kissed me back at the spot that I hoped no one would ever discover. But now he knew where I went whenever I left camp. And because of the entire scene that had unfolded in camp, I knew it was time to go. 

   Before, I had been reluctant to accept what Arthur had told me. Now, after that whole mess, I was sure he was right. Hell he was always usually right. Except this time, I was heartbroken that he was. 

   Riding back into the camp and hitching my horse might have been the hardest, most uncomfortable thing ever. Immediately, everyone's gaze had been turned towards me, especially Micah's. My skin had begun to crawl as I hurried my way towards my tent, making eye contact with Arthur. Motioning my head towards my tent, he had given me a little nod. He knew it was time. 

   Pushing through the entrance of my tent, I leaned underneath the cot and dragged out an extra large satchel that Pearson had crafted, just for this occasion, considering he knew I had many belongings that I just couldn't leave behind. Tears had begun to sting my eyes as I heard Arthur's footsteps approach me, staying at the entrance of the tent. "I told you. He's come fully undone." Arthur muttered quietly, making sure no one else would hear. 

   Turning my now puffy eyes towards him, I gave him a soft little nod, soon returning my gaze towards the satchel. Releasing small coughs, Arthur managed to pull himself together before approaching me. "Come here..." The tears had begun to escape my eyes as I turned towards him. He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me in the for the strongest bear hug that I had ever received. Hugging him tightly, I allowed my sobs to become heard, not caring who would hear. If Dutch heard, it would be even better. However, I highly doubted he would feel even remotely remorseful for what he had done. 

   "Heh... Seems like yesterday we were all just kids." Arthur rasped softly. He wasn't able to speak any louder, because if he had, he would burst into another full blown coughing fit, and because everyone else in camp would hear through the thin tent. A small smile pierced through my tears at his words though. "Yeah... Wish we were still kids." I replied, receiving a small chuckle in response. Hugging him tightly against me, I sobbed softly, "God, why you? Of all people, why you...?" I had been one of the only people who really knew and hated that Arthur was sick. Micah always joked about it, calling him the meanest things, and I hated that. 

   "I'm a bad man, sweetie," He rasped. As he was about to continue his sentence, the coughs had begun to intensify. As they grew stronger, pushing into yet another coughing fit, Arthur kept his hand against me, pushing me away from him. The tears had become stronger as well as I watched the man that had been my best friend and brother all these years deteriorate in front of me. 

   As Arthur recovered from the fit, spitting a tiny bit of blood onto the ground as he did so, he muttered, "Now listen. I want you to run and not look back. This is your chance now to have a better life then this, and to do that, you can't even take a peek back at this camp." As he whispered his instructions to me, I made sure I listened. Not just because this was truly life saving advice and guidance, but it would most likely be the last time I would ever hear him speak. 

   After he finished speaking, I nodded, not wanting to say anything else that would cause any more crying. From me at least. He was never one to cry. After yet another hug, one that I never wanted to end, he helped me pack the satchel. Shoving my clothes inside, along with portraits of us and John inside, he also stashed a rather large sum of money inside. "Arthur, no-" Before I could even reject it, he shushed me. "I don't wanna hear it. You're gonna need it and you know it." Locking eyes with him, I nodded once more, keeping my mouth shut. I never accepted money from him. I hated that this was the one time and that I had to now. 

   Everything important now filled each and every pocket of the satchel. Tying together the flap, Arthur then turned towards me, looking like a parent who was now sending his child away. Gently ruffling my hair a bit, a small smile seeped onto his lips. "You're a good kid. Take all the time you need in here to compose yourself but it has to be tonight." He warned, receiving yet another nod from me. "Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate it, everything you've done, really." I told him. The faint smile remained for several more seconds, accompanied with a nod before he tore himself away, exiting the tent. 

   Taking a seat down onto the cot for several minutes, I looked around the small space, allowing tears to gently stream down my cheeks. How could I leave this place? These people? I had grown up being nagged by Grimshaw to do my chores, with Arthur teasing John about not being able to swim or being stupid, but growing up becoming best friends with the both of them. I had grown up seeing Dutch as the father that had abandoned me. 

   Resting my face in my hands, I allowed the gentle sobs to leak through my fingers. Soon, they quieted down though. Footsteps had begun to approach the tent once more and I had serious doubts that it was Arthur. 

   Sure enough, that blonde rat poked his head through the entrance of the tent. "Knock, knock." He said, soon the smug smile fading from his face as soon as he saw the satchel packed to the brim. "What's all this, sweet cheeks?" Micah questioned. 

   Grabbing the satchel in one hand, I replied, "Micah, it's honestly none of your goddamn business." Seeming to be taken aback a bit by my words, Micah asked, "You're walking out on us too?"  

   A small huff escaped from my nostrils. Standing from the cot, not bothering to wipe away my tears, I replied, "I'm not walking out on anyone, Micah. I'm not the one who betrayed the gang that took me in when they could have left me alone, for dead." My words seemed to pierce his cold heart. If he even had one. 

   "I'm not sure what you mean." He answered stupidly. I rolled my arms and marched right past him past the tent. "You know exactly what I mean, you rat! You ruined this entire gang, you ripped it apart, used it to your own advantage and never bothered to even consider the thought of thinking of any of us as family. Now, some of us are dead or gone forever because of you!" I had allowed my mind to get the best of me once more. I was screaming at someone else in the gang, the family that had taken me in. But then I remembered, he wasn't family. He hadn't been one of the ones who loved and cared and supported me. So I didn't feel guilty in the slightest. 

   As I marched back over to my horse, I slung the satchel on my shoulder. "I thought we were onto something though, together." Micah called after me, somehow legitimately sounding heartbroken. "How could I even consider that with someone like you?" I asked simply, spurring my horse and making eye contact with him one last time. He had no words. 

   "That's what I thought." I muttered harshly. Before riding off, I made eye contact with the two men I had grown up with. One of them would bring his family to safety, while the other would join the angels. Snapping the reins, I forced my steed straight into a gallop, sending dirt flying into Micah's disgusting face as I rode away.