#// it's beyn's turn next

[retrograderesemblance]

It was different, this, seeing Abe knocked off his feet, it was different when it wasn't her delivering the blows, different that she felt a pang of regret twisting in her gut, almost wanting to step forward, to act maternal and go to him in his pathetic state on the ground. There would be time enough for that though, not now.

When the barn doors were properly opened, she allowed Ben to force her from the structure, her knotted wrists in one of his hands, his other clutching his pistol, the barrel level with Abe's back while they walked.

It was a measly bunch situated around the wagon, there were only four of them total, counting Ben, and the others consisted of Walter Havens and two men she didn't recognize.

"Christ, Tallmadge, you said they'd go quiet-like." One of the men she didn't know spoke, the man almost wincing at the sight of smeared blood on Ben's chin, at the apparent bruise forming on Abe's face.

She did hold her tongue uncharacteristically so, at least until she was being helped into the wagon by the "quiet-like" man and that was when she bit hard on the apple seeds, the pods bursting open into sharp shards in her mouth, and she spat in the man's eyes, managing to slip away and begin her faux escape attempt, and perhaps it was a foolish plan, perhaps there was no need to make it look more real than it was, but any and all of those thoughts didn't begin to occur to Molly until she found herself falling, her skirts used to trip her and then a boot connected with her face.

@honorhearted

“Please, Abraham,” his wife scoffed, “more likely I was the one defending you while you cowered under the table."

“Ouch…” he replied coolly, “Glad to know you’ve absolutely zero confidence in me.”

"She's right, Abe…” Ben chimed in, “Everyone knows how Molly gets at the tavern with rowdy customers -- hell, around anyone and anywhere. You have that one scar to prove it."

Whether he liked it or not, Ben had a point. With a sigh, Abe shrugged and turned to his eldest friend as Molly warned him not to slug him in the nose. 

"I'll aim for the eye and cheek area. That should do the least damage..."

Abe huffed again, bracing for the pain, “Let’s get on with it then.” 

Despite his preparedness, the force of the punch knocked him off balance and flat on his arse. 

“Christ…” he winced, tenderly touching his sore cheek despite his tied hands, the swelling already apparent. 

"Jesus, Abe, I'm so sorry." 

“Like hell you are!”

"I didn't think you'd throw your whole body into it like that..." 

Ben pulled Abe to his feet with little effort, only further serving to make Abe self conscious, as he’d always been when they were boys – and more so when they’d grown into men. Despite his strength garnered from years of farming, he knew he couldn’t ever compete with someone like Ben when it came to athleticism.

He was no soldier – no hero. Even now, he was more like a rat skulking around in the dark. Even if he felt like he could make a difference, could help his country, there was nothing heroic about what he did. 

Ben clapped him on the cheek, snapping him back to their current predicament, “You all right?”

“Oh, aye. Never better,” he answered sardonically. 

When Ben relayed their next move, Abe glanced over to Molly, almost as though it would give him some reassurance that regardless of what would take place, she at least would be alright. 

This isn’t real, he reminded himself, she’s gonna be okay.

With a nod to her, he played up his injury, feigning opposition as he allowed Ben to drag him outside.

@retrograderesemblance