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imladris-soldier · 5 years ago

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Lashes (pt 19)

Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.

Bill Williamson x OC

The mood around camp stayed tense over the next two days while Hosea and Dutch debated the bank job. The anticipation of that, on top of the lingering ice from the fight, kept things subdued and awkward. Star felt as though every one of her muscles were taut to their breaking point more often than not and soon took to arrow-making to occupy her time and take out her emotions on some unsuspecting wood. Charles provided her with endless feathers as he spent his time away from camp entirely, and he always brought back hunted birds to feed her new habit.

Bill kept quiet about the fact that he was protecting his lover, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was doing, sitting at her side with a gun near at hand. She felt better with him close, and every time Micah's eyes even slightly drifted in her direction, Bill would be reaching for his rifle. While she knew she would soon move past her altercation with the man and lose the lingering feeling of vulnerability, it was helpful to feel safe in the meantime.

Late one afternoon, Hosea began making rounds, announcing that the bank robbery was going ahead in the morning. As he approached Star and Bill, Arthur tagged along behind him. “Dutch says to get some rest,” the white-haired man told them. “We're movin' on Saint Denis in the mornin'. That said, Star... I was hopin' you might agree to stay behind at camp.”

“Why?” Bill demanded.

“'Cuz we need good fightin' folk to stay with those who ain't comin' along. Mrs. Adler will be stayin', and I was hopin' you might too. Whadda ya say?”

Star paused the monotonous movement of her knife against the stick in her hand to think. She could feel Bill's eyes on her, knowing well that he would prefer she go with him, but what did she know of robbing banks? She'd barely been involved in the Valentine job, and perhaps she had pushed her luck far enough by attending the mayor's party in town.

“I'll stay, Hosea. Seems like the best fit.”

He clapped his hands together, smiling. “Excellent. I'll leave you to it.”

As Hosea walked off, Arthur joined the pair around their small fire. “Appreciate ya bein' willing to stay,” he told her. “I know ya like to be in the thick of things.”

She offered him a smile before going back to her work. “I dunno. I'm a bit out of my depth here.”

“Nah. But I, for one, will feel better knowin' them that's stayin' has you and Sadie lookin' out for 'em. You are both mighty women.”

“Thanks, Arthur.”

As she scraped her knife against the wood, Star glanced at Bill out of the corner of her eye. He was slumped slightly in apparent disappointment, and he seemed to be mulling over some words to say, though he also seemed unwilling to speak them with Arthur present. After a moment, he cleared his throat and quietly asked, “Arthur, can I get a minute alone with my wife?”

Star's movements slowed immediately to a stop as Bill's question rattled around in her head. There was something intoxicating and dangerous about hearing him call her his own in such a way.

“Sure,” Arthur replied, lumbering to his feet and knocking the dust off his jeans. “I'll see you two in the mornin'. Get some sleep.”

He left them, and Star sighed, sitting aside her project to devote her attention to Bill. He was fiddling with one of the patches on his pants, tugging at the haphazard sewing. She waited patiently for him to start, and began weaving together a small crown of grass in the meantime.

“I... I know I ain't exactly made myself clear on... well... seein' as how sometimes I want you to stay home and sometimes I'm draggin' ya out there in the middle of shit. I just don't want ya to think... I know you're a good shot and all. I know you can take care of yourself. But, ya know, it's like you said. We watch each others backs, but we can only do that together. I-I-I'd just feel better... havin' you with me. That's all.”

Star nodded, taking some time to think on that. Her fingers worked at the grass in her hands, twisting it into a long rope that left behind a slight green stain. “You realize I would be a liability, don't you? I've never robbed a bank. Not properly.”

“Don't mean you ain't good at it,” he replied with a slight smile. “Ain't seen much you can't do.”

A small laugh skittered out of her. “Now, now. Compliments will not change my mind. Hosea was right to ask me to stay. I'll be of more use here looking after everyone. We have the rest of our lives for me to look after you.”

Something about that seemed to take a weight from Bill's shoulders. He smiled at the ground. “Guess that's right. Didn't think of it that way.”

“Besides, you know I'll be with you in spirit.” She crawled to him, placing her grass rope around his head before tapping his chest. “Right here. If you get into a tight spot, just ask yourself what I would do. And then... depending on the situation, perhaps do the exact opposite.”

Bill laughed, grabbing her waist and pulling her atop him as he laid back in the grass. She shrieked playfully, laughing with him. From her position above him, she pressed her nose to his. “You'll be ok. Everything is going to be ok. And when it's over, we'll be headed for a tropical paradise where the only things we'll have to worry about are sea monsters and sunburns.”

She said it for her own benefit as much as his. With the way things had been going, it was impossible not to worry and doubt, but doing so brought down the wrath of Dutch who was just so damned sure of himself and his dream. Star wanted to believe in him and the future he spoke of, but there were so many unknowns. When this job was finally out of the way, perhaps they would finally have some direction.

The pair spent the night close together, turning in early though neither found sleep so easily. After some tossing and turning, they both gave up. Bill took a comb to Star's dark locks and tried to practice his braiding. Charles had shown him some time ago, but he was still struggling to get it down. Fine motor skills weren't exactly his forte. Still, it was comforting for Star to feels his fingers in her hair, even if they occasionally pulled. He apologized every time.

As the sky began to turn grey, Star's anxiety grew. Despite knowing that it was best for her to stay, she wanted to go and watch her man's back. Hell, she wanted to watch everyone's back. Her single trip to Saint Denis was enough for her to know that it wasn't going to be easy getting out of there. Winding streets made for too many places that pursuers could bottleneck them in or cut them off.

When the camp began to stir, Star helped Bill dress in his suit, unable to keep a snicker to herself. “What?” he asked, turning to and fro, trying to find what she was laughing at.

“Nothing. It's just... was that the only fabric you could find?

“What's wrong with it?”

She appraised the plaid suit, leaning her chin into her hand. “I mean... nothing, really. It's just a bit... chaotic.” His hair was a bushy mess too, as usual, adding to the frazzled look. “Come here.” She grabbed some pomade and coated her comb in it before dragging it through his hair until it laid down into something resembling respectable. “Better.”

“I ain't tryin' to get a job at the bank, I'm tryin' to rob the damn thing,” he retorted, though not without amusement and warmth.

“You gotta get in the place first, and they're not going to let you within a mile looking like a vagrant who's had too much cocaine.”

“Now, that's just unkind.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his torso. “I'm only joking. You look fine.”

He sighed, twisting his arms around her shoulders. “Still wish you was comin' with me.”

“I am, remember? Right here.” She tapped his chest again. “Besides, you'll be back before sundown, and then we'll be outta here. No more gators and buzzing bugs. Paradise.”

“Right. Mangoes. All that.”

“Exactly. So go on. The sooner you go, the sooner we leave this place.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips, and for a moment, Star wondered if this is what normal couples felt like. Just a wife sending her husband off to work with the dream of a better future. Of course, normal jobs didn't seem quite so harrowing.

They made their way outside where the camp was bustling with activity. Everyone was dressed sharply and mounting up or climbing atop a wagon. Star escorted Bill to the wagon he would be driving, though as she stood there, Charles squeezed her shoulder on his way by and Arthur pat her back with a reassuring smile. She gave them both smiles, then handed Bill's rifle up to him.

“So,” Hosea called, “we rob ourselves a bank, and within six weeks we're living life anew in a tropical idyll, spending the last of our days as banana farmers! Let's get the hell outta this place and rob ourselves a bank!”

With a clamor of whoops and hollers, nearly half the gang rode out of camp, kicking up dust. Just as they disappeared through the trees, Dutch's voice floated back. “This is it, gentlemen! The last one!”

And just like that, Shady Belle fell quiet once more, leaving those left behind with nothing more to do but wait. Ms. Grimshaw made half an effort to convince people to pack up so that they'd be ready to move when it was all said and done, but she didn't take to it with her usual vigor. Everyone was worried, but hopeful.

Star and Sadie kept an eye on the borders of camp, each taking patrol of either side. Without really realizing it at first, Star picked the eastern edge of camp so that she could stare in the direction of Saint Denis as she paced. Of course, for a long while, such an endeavor seemed useless, but when an explosion carried through the air, and a distant pillar of smoke became visible, it no longer felt so.

Ms. Grimshaw came to stand with her, staring in the direction of the smoke. “Must be Hosea's distraction. He is quite the showman.”

Star smiled softly. “You wouldn't guess it just from looking at him.”

“No,” the older woman agreed, “but I have known him for a very long time. He enjoys an artful distraction.” She paused, eyeing Star with a perception that smacked of a mother's. “Don't you worry yourself. They'll be alright. This ain't their first rodeo.”

A small chuckled found its way out of Star's tense frame. “No, I suppose it's not. It's all just kinda new for me, you know? I've only been with you all for a few months, and sometimes I forget the reputation the Van Der Linde Gang had prior to Blackwater going south. Even I had heard a tale or two of your exploits.”

“That right?”

She nodded. “I'm from farther north than you guys ever roamed, but stories travel. Of course, they change every time someone tells it too.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Ms. Grimshaw laughed. “Well, I'll leave ya to your work. Whenever you get hungry, Mr. Pearson made some oatmeal this mornin'.”

“Thank you, Ms. Grimshaw.”

When Star was left alone again, she turned her attentions back to the swamp. The only threat she could see was the monstrous creatures that lurked in the mud and hissed at anything that got too close, but they didn't seem particularly interested in raiding the place. The O'Driscolls seemed to have learned their lesson and stayed away, though they'd done damage enough by taking Kieran. Deep down, Star was looking forward to getting away from here – away from all the bad memories.

Morning turned to afternoon, and as that began to drag on, the fragile confidence that had hung over the camp began to dissipate. Star abandoned her post to find Sadie who was standing near the entrance of the camp, gazing into the trees.

“Don't you think they should've been back by now?” the Lakota woman murmured, trying to keep her voice low enough so that her concerns would not infect the others.

“From what Arthur told me about the plan... yeah. Maybe they just got held up.”

“Maybe. Had to take the long way back to shake followers or something. Still... we should probably get everyone ready to move, in case we need to make a quick exit.”

“Right. I'll see to that. You stay here. Keep an eye out. Holler if you see anything.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Sadie headed into the heart of camp, hurrying people along with the packing. Most of the equipment was good to go, but there were some lingering tasks to be done. Normally, Star would have expected to hear one of the girls grumbling about it, but no one did. The stakes were too high. Even Reverend Swanson had taken to loading things onto wagons.

Afternoon took a turn towards evening, and Star's chest grew tighter as the sky grew darker. The shadows between the trees were becoming harder to see through. The camp behind her was eerily quiet, almost as if they were all straining to hear any sign of the bank party.

When she could no longer see more than fifty yards in front of her, Star pulled back to camp. “Mr. Pearson,” she called quietly to the cook. “Keep the fires small.”

He nodded, but then asked, “Why does it feel like we're expecting to be attacked?”

“Because we don't know what's coming. They should've been back by now. For all we know, the next riders through those trees could be Pinkertons. Let's not give anyone more cause to find us than we must.”

“Star,” Sadie called, waving her over to a secluded spot by the porch.

She jogged to join her friend, and they huddled together in discussion. “Sadie, something isn't right.”

“I agree. We might wanna consider movin' camp.”

“To where? Nobody thought up a contingency plan if everything went pear-shaped.”

“I know, I know,” Sadie sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Just don't feel safe, stayin' here.”

“You're right. It doesn't.”

In the distance, little Jack asked, “Miss Mary-Beth, where's momma?”

Star and Sadie glanced over to find Mary-Beth's eyes on them as she answered, “Don't you worry about your momma and daddy. They'll be back soon.”

A slight rain had begun to fall, adding absolutely nothing positive to the mood of the place. “What do we do?” Star whispered, almost rhetorically.

Just then, she caught movement in the trees at the entrance of camp. She ran out, gun raised and shouted, “Who goes there?”

“Charles and Abigail!” her chosen brother's voice called back.

The camp burst into noise as everyone rushed the pair who had arrived alone and on foot. “Where is everyone? What's happened?” Ms. Grimshaw cried.

“It went bad,” Charles replied as Abigail rushed forward to pull Jack into her arms. “Pinks and cops everywhere. Hosea's dead. Lenny too.”

Mary-Beth gasped and Karen sighed, “Jesus.”

“John got cuffed and taken away. We don't know where.”

“What about the others?” Pearson asked.

“When I left 'em, Dutch, Bill, Javier, Arthur, and Micah were going to sneak on board one of the docked ships in the harbor. Don't know which one. Don't know where they are or where they're going. It's... it's just us.”

Everyone stood in shocked, grieving silence. Star turned her gaze back towards Saint Denis, fighting the desperate burn of tears around her eyes. I should have gone with him.

“We need to move camp,” Sadie announced decisively. “They're probably lookin' for the rest of us. We got everything pretty well packed, but we gotta find somewhere to go. Me and Charles will ride out in the morning to find a place. Star, you'll stay here to keep an eye on things, and when we find somewhere, we'll come get everyone.”

There were quiet murmurs of agreement and comprehension before what was left of the Van Der Linde gang slowly dissipated to find what sleep and comfort they could.

Charles came to Star, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked, his dark eyes watching her own as she gazed out into the darkness.

“No,” she whispered, her lip quivering. “But I'm not gonna let them see that. Somebody's gotta be strong for these people, and it's gonna have to be me and you and Sadie and Ms. Grimshaw. Otherwise none of us are going to make it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But maybe they'll be back sooner than...”

“It doesn't matter what may happen. We need to proceed like they're never coming back. Because they just as surely might die wherever it is they're going. We can't rest all our hopes and actions on assumptions that they're coming back. They might as well be dead.”

“Star... he's not dead. Not yet.”

She turned to him, eyes sparkling with tears. “And maybe tomorrow he will be. He's not here. None of them are here. And we have to function without them. So there's no use holding onto hope. Hope has forsaken us.”

With that, she turned and stalked off into the night, unable to bring herself to go to the tent she and Bill shared. Instead, she made her way through the house, up the stairs to the Arthur's room. For a while she stood staring out of the broken window across from the door, then she moved around the room, examining Arthur's belongings. Each one she placed into her satchel. Whether he came back or not, she didn't want to leave them sitting around.

As the exhaustion of the previous sleepless night crashed down on her, Star curled up on Arthur's cot and cried herself to sleep, vowing that in the morning the tears would stop. When she rose the next day, she would be the protector the gang needed her to be. But for tonight, she would mourn her friends and send a hapless, hopeless prayer to the universe to keep the man she loved safe.

#my writing #Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Bill Williamson x oc #bill williamson #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #susan grimshaw #simon pearson #sadie adler #charles smith #lashes #the long awaited return of my epic lol #god it's been so long #I missed these fools

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