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Isaac sat on the floor. Staring at the door. By now, he'd memorised every engraving, crack and crevice of the wood. Nothing else existed but him and the door. Every second mattered. Any millisecond the door could open. The knob could turn with that familiar creek, the fresh hair would flood in, light filling the room, Revealing the thing he had been waiting for for days, years, decades, cen-
“Isaac, Darlin’, what’re you doin’ on the floor?”
That familiar voice, he looked up to see his mama, her blonde hair fell over her shoulders. Her eyebrows were nit into a face of concern and confusion that scrunched the freckles on her face. Those icy blye eyes were fixed on Isaac with her hands were her hips. One of those looks only a mother could give. She wore a white shirt and a blue skirt. Around her waist was a red scarf she improvised to tuck her pen and paper for orders at the bar. Aswell as a small pen knife, she was a small woman, you never know what could happen at the saloon.
“Waiting.” Isaac turned back to the door, gripping his toy horse, he called it ‘Baby Bodie’ because it looked just like his fathers horse. Whom he was waiting to open the door.
“for what?” she looked at the door, confused.
“For pa’” Isaac said, simply.
Immediately his mothers shoulders dropped, she looked between him and the door with sympathy, “Oh ...hon’...” she sighed.
She watched for a few seconds, her ten year old son sat criss-cross-apple-sauce waiting for his father like it was the most important thing in the world to him.
Because it was.
His mousy brown hair just like his fathers before those flecks of grey and the sun lightened it. Along with those blue-green eyes to match along the abundance of freckles she’d given him that bunched at his nose and then dispersed all over him. He was in his green shirt with his overalls that were pinned up, far too big for him. Baby-Bodie on his lap.
“well... I’m going to work, will you be okay alone?” She says eventually, tilting her head.
Isaac nods, She leans down and kisses his head, he leans up into her, “bye bye mama.”
“Please don’t just sit on the floor all day, fix this place up a little, theres some beans in the cupboard, I love you, bye.”
With that, the door opened, and shut again, his mother had left and a usual silence filled the room. In truth he disobeyed his mother, he sat on that floor for atleast another hour or so.
Before finally.
The door knob turned, the door swung open roughly.
A large man stepped in, tall and brawny, his massive silhouette outlined in the doorframe. The smell of the forest filled the room. He saw his boots first, they looked new, frayed already but made sense for a cowboy. Covered in the dirt and mud that came with town roads. Shiny spurs crested their own lines of light, his black jeans frayed at the knees probably from falling or kneeling infront of the fire. The gunbelt that holstered two of his smaller fire arms. That blue striped shirt, suspenders leading up to his black neckerchief, his trimmed beard, blue-green eyes, sun damaged cheeks, crooked nose, dark blonde hair, and that signature black gamblers hat littered with scrapes and scars of it’s own.
“Papa!” Isaac sprung up, Bodie in his hand, and reached upward for his father who immediately lifted him.
Arthur let out an over dramatic grunt as he took his son into his arms, “Hey buddy! What you doing on the floor?”
“I was waitin’! What took you so long! You said you’d be here yesterday!” Isaac said with a false tone of anger.
Arthur walked over with him on his lap and sat on the couch with him, “oh, I’m sorry buddy I caught up with things at camp, how have you and mama been? Where is she?”
“shes at work! What were you guys doing at camp?” He leaned on his father, crossing Bodie in his arms and looked up at him expectantly.
“Oh- hm- wranglin’ the cows... ofcoarse.”
“really! You guys have cows now?”
“ha...yeah...”
“oh wow... One day I’ll have to come help, mama says I gotta start lookin’ for work!”
“y-yeah... Anyway, I was thinking we go do some fishin’?” Arthur patted Isaacs shoulder.
“Yeah! I don’t have a pole, though...”
“thats fine,” Arthur looked down at Bodie, “ how about you leave him-“
“her.”
“right...why don’t you leave her here, don’t want her gettin ruined huh’?”
Isaac hesitated, looking at Bodie, “yeah...” he set her down on the table.
Arthur pulled out his journal, “I’ll write your mama a note, so she doesn’t think we’ve been kidnapped, n’ then we’ll go. Go wait outside with Boadicea. Oh! N’ i brought your friend too.”
“okay!” Isaac scampered outside, it was a warm day in Applebrook. The clouds only covered the sun a little and birds tweeted while various rodents scampered around. The roads were barron, everyone was at work. Just outside his house was some trees and grassy patches before they hit the begining of the town road. Out one door was endless fields and plains and out the other was his hometown. The smell of fresh air hit him only just before soggy paws did.
Copper floored him easily, covering him with excited licks and whimpers. Isaac giggled and pushed him off, his floppy ears flying backward as his tail wagged back and forth rapidly. His brown fur and wet, pink nose glittered in the sun and just behind him stood Boadicea tied to a tree. She looked up to see him, mouth stuffed with grass, her chestnut fur sandy from the travel and her dark brown mane was long and covered her face. Just like his toy. The white streak down her face was stained green from grazing aswell as her socks.
“I see you’ve greeted ol’ friends. You ready?” Arthur came out and smiled at Isaac and Copper, untying Boadicea.
“Yeah!” Isaac rushed over to Boadicea with Copper not far behind. Arthur got on first then reached down to lift Isaac up fairly effortlessly, Isaac looked up at his father with a massive smile before Arthur kicked them into a canter down to the river.
“How are Uncle Hosea and Auntie Susan and Uncle Dutch?”
“They’re fine, nothing new.”
“Can i come see them?” Isaac turns back to him, grinning hopefully.
His smile dropped for a second, “mmm, I-I would love to but yer’ mama says- awk-“ Arthur stops himself. “look maybe when your older, cows are... Uh, dangerous, i guess.”
Soon, the rustling of a tiny little water fall filled Isaacs ears. They approached a rocky river, not far was the tiny waterfall, less than a foot drop, if even.
“salmon season, reckon this rivers perfect huh? I’ll grab my pole, you’ll mainly do the fishin’ iI bet you’ll be great at it by now!”
Isaac thought back to all their previous fishing trips and nodded, fairly confident in himself.
His father handed him the pole, loaded with bait, then walked over to the nearest tree, settling against it with a peice or old grass between his teeth, Copper lying on his lap and watches Isaac. Isaac casts his rod. Getting a fair distance.
“Well done!” his father gives him a harty thumbs up from the side lines.
He sits like that for atleast half an hour, he’d lost a fish or too on behalf of not wrangling fast enough, but now he was dead-set on catching a salmon. Both because he was starting to get hungry, also because he wanted to prove her could.
Suddenly, his pole nearly dragged him off the shore.
“woah, you alright, boy?”
“hrrgh- yeah-“ Isaac continued pulling, tiring the fish before reeling a little, but the fish was strong, he couldn’t turn the handle. Before he’d even asked, his fathers hand was on his, helping him reel in the fish.
“thats it your doing good keeping going!”
Whenever Arthur felt like Isaac was doing fine on his own, he’d let go until Isaac was struggling, then step in and helping again. Toward the tail end, Isaac took some steps back, Arthur completely let go and put his arms on gis hips, watching as Isaac finally reeled the massive salmon, huffing and puffing. By god, was it massive.
It was easily a few pounds, maybe more.
“jesus, look atchu!” Arthur unhooked the fish and held it up. “goddamn, I think this is the only fish we’ll need to catch,” he looked back down at his son, “you know what, i reckon it’s time to show you how to use a gun huh?”
“really?” Isaac looked up in excitement.
“really, but lets atleast put this in the house first. Don’t quite fancy my horse smelling like like the oceans ass.”
Isaac giggled. They gathered their things and set off home.…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷThe next few days were spent with Isaac learning more and more from his father. As much time he spent away, Arthur made up for it by spending every waking hour with his boy, hunting, fishing, swimming, riding, occasionally his father would let him have a drink. Isaac didn’t have many friends, but he felt like the most special kid in the world when his father was home.
His father had came up to tuck him in one last night, his mother standing right next to him. It felt nice to be tucked in by both parents.
“Do you really have to go?” Isaac pouted, looking up from his mattress on the floor.
“yep, I’m afraid.” His father knelt next to him, Copper at his side. He looked down at his boy, seeing the visible disappointment on his face. He patted his head, “hey don’t look so down buddy, I’ll be back before you know it.”
“... Okay I suppose.”
“Go to sleep, say goodbye to Copper.” His Mama said, fidgeting with her cross necklace. She wasn’t religious, as much as she tried to get Isaac to be, he was never sure why she wore it. Isaac reached up to pet copper one last time, rubbing his scruffy chin.
“Go to sleep be up early to help yer’ mama, I’ll be gone by the morn’,” Arthur ruffled his hair again and pull his old blanket over him, “goodnight.”
“goodnight,” Isaac watched him for a few seconds, spoke up just before he disappeared, “...I love you, pa.” He watched carefully for his fathers response, it wasn’t something young boys said to their dad alot, especially not at his age.
Arthur paused and turned a little, “Love you too, son.” And with a warm smile he turned away.
It was only him and his mother now, “you okay?” it was her turn to kneel down beside him now, her brows tilted upward.
He nodded, still looking at the doorframe.
“Go to sleep, sweetheart, you’ve got plenty time now to be worrying about what your father’s doing,” she finished that sentence with a tone he couldn’t quite read, but it softened with the next, “I love you,” she kissed his forehead, then pulled Baby Bodie out of that scarf she doubled as a waistband to keep her things in, tucking her in beside him.
He threw his hands out excitedly to grab her and cuddled into his limp pillow, starting to melt into his makeshift bed as sleepiness set in, he yawned, “I love you too.”
She blew out the gas lamp and gave him one last kiss on the forehead, her silhouetted figure walking away and closing the door.
He could swear he heard hushed arguing, but he was too tired to care, after a busy day with his father, he was out cold in a few minutes.
It had been weeks since his father visited, he’d be back soon, maybe.

…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

It had been weeks since Arthur visited.

Isaac was meant to be asleep but he and Bodie stared out the window, seeing if he could see that familiar chestnut mare and black gamblers hat. Perhaps he’d appear during the night? Sometimes he sent a letter sometimes he didn’t, in truth his father was unpredictable. But for a kid with as little friends as Isaac, it kept him looking forward to something.
He didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep upright with his head in his own arms until he was awoken by a massive bang and a clatter. It was coming from downstairs, he walked out his bedroom door to a deafening gun shot, he went to the top of the stares and looked through the planks of the banister down. A man was in his house, holding mama by the shirt, another man was on the floor, covered in blood and mama still had the gun in her hand.
She threw a pretty hefty punch to his face, causing his nose to burst and spray blood on the floor. She was small but she was strong, “get the fuck out my house asshole!” She grunted, finishing off the man with her pistol, but before she could realise Isaac was there. A shotgun went off.
Isaac didn’t want to remember the details.
He remembers the shotgun hitting her in the head, the man walking in seconds after, close range.
Isaac could already tell it was close range by the gore on the walls.
He remembered jumping out the top window before the man saw him.
Falling on his face and hitting his jaw, causing him to split the side of his chin and loose a few baby teeth. The fall created gashes on his elbows and knees and covered him in dirt.
All he could do was run. The fear sparked the adrenaline which made it impossible to stop, the pain in his body dull.
He ran until he couldn’t see his town anymore, Bodie still in his arms, his grip on her so tight his knuckles were white. He ran until the skin on his feet tore away, til' the night stars faded and the moon set.
He’d run into a camp, filled with people he didn’t know. He looked around, terrified and turned to run a different direction, bumping into a tall man.
He tried to turn and run a different direction but the man roughly grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back to look at him. He looked up to see a man, with grey greasy hair, a hooked nose, scarred face, covered in scars, cuts and blemishes. His eyes wandered to the other men that now surrounded them, armed to the teeth, skeptical looks on their face.
“look at me, boy!” The man grabbed his bleeding chin and forced it up, “whats yer’ name?” it was more of a demand than an ask.
Isaac stood frozen for a second, staring up in terror.
There was an array of voices in the background that all blurred together, he was too deafened by the mans peircing stare to pick up on any of it, clutching at Bodie.
“we can’t let him go back, he might tell someone he saw-“ a man piped up from the back but the big man slapped him across the cheek before he could finish.
“You think I don’t know that?” The big man shouted, “Dermot- Where’s Dermot Macbrian?” His tone was alot softer as he said that name.
A different man pushed through the crowd, ginger hair, bright green eyes. He had a skinny figure, a stained white vest covered mostly by a black leather jacket, his gunbelt was dark brown with a green cloth tucked into it, a sparkling gold revolver stored in a holster. His boots were well worn, so worn the leather has started to work its way down his leg snd scrunched up at the ankle.
“yessir?” he said, an irish accent poking through immediately.
“We can’t send the boy back, either kill him or make him a good gun, maybe a grrom and for now or something. Your more equipped for this then any of us.” The big man waved his band in dismissal, jewelry sparkling and jangling as he walked away, closely followed by some other men.
‘Dermot’ examined Isaac, blood staining his clothes and tears running down his face. The little floppy horse in his arms that had a button for an eye, the other probably lost ages ago. Once all the other boys had left, Dermot picked Isaac up. It felt strange, This was a complete stranger. Picking him up? He had no idea where he was going.
Dermot walked him over to a crate, sitting Isaac on it and pulling out a handkerchief from one of the inner pockets of his jacket. Dipping it into a bucket, ringing it out, slowly pulling up Isaacs dungaree leg and wiping his knee.
It hurt alot actually, and the silence between them was off putting, Dermot seemed... awkward...more than anything. All Isaac could think about was his poor mother, he didn’t care about the blood dripping down his shins or the pain in his feet from running without shoes on.
“So...what is your name, wee man?” Dermot finally spoke, not looking away from Isaacs knees as he – carefully as he could – cleaned the gashes.
Isaac sniffed, “Isaac...”
“Isaac, n’ what happened to you, Isaac?” Dermots voice was as gentle as it could be.
He thought carefully, he remembered his mama and pa’ sitting him down and telling him about the dangers of men. Not to tell them his full name, that especially. When he’d asked why he was met with the classic; ‘because i said so’
“I fell...”“You must’ve hit the ground pretty hard,” Dermot finally looks up, takes Isaacs face in his hand and tilts it up to look at his chin. He hisses, “That looks sore, is it sore?”
Isaac nods.
“yeah? Thats okay. You’ll be okay.”
There wasnt anither word spoke between them while Dermot wrapped up his elbows and knees, then cleaned the wound on his chin. There was nothing to wrap it with, the placement was too awkward, hed just have to let the air get to it, he finished his work, then looks right into Isaac’s eyes, pressing his lips together, prompting him to say something.
When Isaac just looked at the ground, he spoke up again, “you wanna tell me how you got into this mess?”
Isaac shook his head, craned his head to rest on Bodies’, getting some blood on her woolen mane.
“mmm, well, whatever it was, it really shook you...” Dermot remarked more to himself than anything, “You wanna lie down?” he angles his head down so he can meet Isaacs eyes again.
Isaac hesitates, then nods, eventually.
Dermot gently offers his hand, Isaac doesn’t take it, just slides off the crate and stares up at Dermot, blankly. Dermot shrugs, then makes his way to a tent, gesturing his head for the boy to follow, he did.
The rest of the camp was asleep by now, the smell of booze radiating off every man. Snoring snd gargling in the not-so soft sounds of sleep, campfires still glowing bright. They got into a tiny tent, one little bedroll on the floor.
“You uh...sleep there,” dermot pointed at the bedroll, then took off his jacket. Isaac settled down where he was told. Then felt th jacket be thrown ontop of him, before Dermot down beside the makeshift bed, “You keep warm, I’m used to sleeping on the grass.”
There was a silence in which Isaacs eyes didn’t shut for a second of it, “You got any... family?”
Isaac thought carefully, considering what happened with his mother. He didn’t know where his pa was, and he didn’t want to talk to this man.
“no.” He said, a little harsher then he meant to.
“Okay...I...well... goodnight kid, an’- welcome to the O’Driscolls. For now.”…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Six point Cabin 1899
Dew dripped off leaves and the sun broke through the trees that held them. It was a fairly quiet morning at Six Point Cabin. Wouldn’t be for long, considering a few of the boys had started drinking. The horses were kept just outside the main camp, some let out to graze, others tied up for Isaac to tend to them.
Isaac was in charge of the horses, he’d even picked up a couple of farrier skills, so he could take good care of the horses hooves, keeping them well kept and clean.He was lost in his own thoughts, brushing an old stallion that he’d seen in the gang for years, he was well behaved and had a gorgeous coat underneath all that muck, Isaac liked to keep it on show. He used to have help, a man called Keiran but he hadn’t seen him for a while. They ended up decent friends, sharing a love for horses. The only difference being Keiran actually had to go out and pull of various robberies, heists, murders. Isaac was confined to to stable.
Colm wasn’t a fan of that, Isaac was fifteen, had been for a while. By now most boys are down mines, on ranches, helping clerks... Dermot somehow convinced Colm to go somewhat easy on Isaac - on account of Colm and Dermot going way back - but due to this, Isaac didn’t get a share of any income, including food. In truth he was starving. He’d told Dermot he’d picked up some hunting but in all honesty he hadn’t. As soon as he stepped out of camp he was ushered back because some paranoid irishman thought his horse was colicing or something need cleaned up. It was starting to take a toll on him how skinny he was getting.
Footsteps in the dirt behind made him turn to see that familiar black jacket and bright ginger hair.“Isaac, how are ya’?” Dermot greeted him, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling out a lighter and a cigar.“M’ fine.”“yeah? taking good care of those horses I see,” Dermot nodded to the horses and cupped his hands to light his cigar.“Wouldn’t give ‘em anything less,” Isaac remarked.“’Coarse you wouldn’t,” Dermot chuckled, there was a long pause. Isaac could practically feelDermot thinking. Eyes fixed on Isaac as he worked, “Siobhan and Nancy live around ‘ere,”
Oh how that brightened Isaacs day, “really? Are we gonna go see them?” He’d found himself somewhat adopted into Dermots dysfunctional family.Nancy, older lady that absolutely coddled Isaac – Dermots ex-wife, touchy subject. And Siobhan, only a few years older than Isaac was the daughter of Nancy and Dermot. As much as Isaac didn’t always reciprocate, he for ever appreciated the familial love and support the Macbrians had given him. Usually the four of them met in a town out west, booked a hotel and pretended to be a happy family for a few days. Then the girls would go back to the house, the boys would go back to the gang.“yeah, we should at some point. Oh, ‘nd bad news. Camp attacked up north, not sure if anyone told you,” he puffed his cigar, “Kieran was caught up in it. Or atleast they think. Never found his body so... Keep an eye out...’suppose.”That news was bad. Kieran was his only friend really, he had Dermot, but he was more like a wierd parental figure. Kieran was an actual friend he could talk freely too.“Damn... Thats a shame...” he tried to seem nonchalant, but if he was honest it was the worst news he’d gotten in a while. He really liked Kieran. He thought about him in the snow, fleeing on his beloved horse, freezing to death, cold and alone.“anyway, so the few boys that made it have came down from the snow. Some are holed up here, others are over at Hanging Dog Ranch, north of West Elizabeth.” Dermot took a seat on a rock near by, still looking at the horses, casually taking smoking his cigar.“who attacked? Law?” It couldn’t of just been some random hill-billies, Isaac knew that, but he dreaded the answer.“Van Der Lindes, apparently they’re on our turf, somewhere...”Isaacs heart dropped, he hated whenever the O’Driscolls and Van Der Lindes were having their feuds. Because he knew of every chance he’d see that face. His father.He was always up front on the attacks, with Dutch and whatever other lackeys Van Der Linde had. Isaac wanted more than anything to run to him and for him to pick him up like he used to, but he couldn’t. Surely, by now, his father had saw him? Surely, he knew what a traitor his son was? Even if he didn’t , Isaac couldn’t just ride out to go find him, he’d probably shoot any O’Driscoll that went anywhere near Van Der Linde territory. At the same time, the O’Driscolls never knew who his father was. Who he shared his blood with. A last name with.He’d taken on Isaac Macbrian. As much as it didn’t feel right, a bullet in the head probably wouldn’t feel any nicer. Either way he was a traitor, and traitors got shot. Didn’t matter what gang you were in or who your father was.“Isaac, y’ sure yer’ alright?” Isaac was broken from his thoughts to find he’d completely stopped brushing the horse and was staring into the distance, wide eyed.“Yeah, like I said, m’fine,” there was more sass in his voice than he intended.Dermot frowned, “right... okay then, I’ll quit bothering ya’,” and he walked off without another word.…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷIt was well into the afternoon by now, Isaac had changed out his shirt put on a vest when the sun started to warm his back, he had managed to steal a cigarette from a drunken camp-mate and was sitting smoking on his bedroll when he noticed some of the horses starting to get rowdy. He watched them, noticing how the birds fled the trees behind them with caws and squawks of warning.
He stared into the treeline, inhaling that sweet tobacco and watching the smoke fade away as he exhaled. The other drunken members of camp were too focused on their shenanigans to pick up on any of it. Not wanting to waste a cigarette, he finished it and pressed it on the ground. Pushing himself up and stretching, he took a few steps forward to investigate, not thinking anything of it.“Men in camp!”Suddenly, a shot rang out. He watched as a man furthest from main camp fell backward, blood spraying from his chest. He heard a few gang members shouting something before guns were blazing, Bullets rang past his ears, gun smoke filled the air, so thick Isaac could taste it. He stood frozen for a few seconds, watching as O’Driscolls fell to the ground, before he snapped himself out of it and grabbed a repeated from the crate next to him, diving behind it and making sure it was loaded.“That ones been runnin’ with Dutch for years!” An O’Driscolls voice rang out.Van der lindes.He leaned out from the side of the barrel for a split second but when a nearly struck him in the eye, he tucked himself tightly behind it again.“Fall back! Protect the cabin!” some more O’Driscoll voices were shouting commands at eachother, a few men in green ran by him, toward the main cabin. Within seconds one of them was shot in the back of the head, causing him to fall forward and skid his face on the wall of the cabin then lay limp on the ground.“Isaac! Isaac!” Dermot shouted from near by.
Isaac looked around frantically until he felt someone grab him. He jolted and pointed his gun at the body. It was Dermot.“Come on, son move!” Dermot grabbed his shoulders, getting some bloody fingerprints on his shirt, he practically threw Isaac forward, urging him to flee.Isaac did as he was told, bolted with Dermot right on his tail, jumping bushes and bodies and dodging low hanging branches.
"What're you hiding out in the woods for?" A faint, taunting voice of a Van Der Linde he didn't recognise.
Still dazed and confused as to how it all happened to fast. When he reached the edge of camp where he stumbled around and panicked.
Dermot had mounted a horse behind him, he didn’t even notice until he was grabbed and yanked up onto the horse as well. It was a massive draft horse, not the fastest but the smaller horses had long spooked and were no-where to be seen.
The horse was kicked a few times and it was soaring through the woods. Hooves beating the dirt, her long mane getting in Dermots face, panting and drooling as she drove forward through the forest. Against his better judgement, Isaac glanced behind him, dreading who he thought was going to see. But who he really saw was far from who he expected.Kieran Duffy.He wasn’t being shot at, he wasn’t running, wasn't begging for mercy or crying out for help. Infact he was urging someone to check in the main cabin, where Colm usually was. Isaac felt his grip on Dermots shirt tighten, fear and panic turned into a realisation that burned deeply in Isaacs chest.Duffy was a rat.…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷThe fire crackled alight as Dermot blew on it, smoke drawing all sorts of patterns into the air above it. It was well into night, stars were out, accompanied by a moon that cast a silver shimer over the forest. Having to flee meant Isaac couldn't grab his things, so he sat in a vest, jeans and cowboy boots curled up into a tight ball, resting his chin on his knees, feeling that nightly breeze raise goosebumps over his exposed shoulders.“We’ve went too far south, We should go back north west, to Hanging Dog, where the rest of the boys are,” Dermot sat with his legs crossed, warming his hands on the fire, “But for now lets just rest and recover.”Isaac stared at the fire, he couldn’t shake the image of Kieran out his head. Motioning to the cabin where Colm usually was, watching his friends be shot down in threes, and helping the Van Der Lindes. Helping his mortal enemies. What was meant to be anyway. He didn't even care to mourn the fallen, He kinda didn't even like most of them. But Kieran? Kieran was his friend. He thought they were one in the same? Underdogs in a pit of ravenous wolves. They starved together. They shared a love of horses. They were supposed to be friends and he'd watched as Isaac was shot at.He wasn't sure if he felt betrayed as an O'Driscoll or as a friend.Isaac shook his head, pulled a disgusted face, “I saw Kieran,”
“what?” Dermot looked around confused, as if Keiran would jump out the bushes.
“He was in camp, when they started to shoot,” Isaacs tone was low and dry, “he was helpin’ them.”Dermot narrowed his eyes, staying silent for a moment, clearly deep in thought.
“Your sure?” He finally said, sternly. So stern Isaac stumbled over his next words,“I- yes, I’m certain, It was him and he was directing someone into the main cabin.” The air grew thick as Dermot fell silent yet again, it made Isaac uneasy, he was starting to think he really didn’t believe him.“Don’t tell Colm.”“What?” Isaac was dumbfounded, “are you serious?” He said, a little too loud.“hush. I’m beyond serious, Colm... Colm ain’t as sly as he was when we was younger, I’m forever loyal to him, but... I’m afraid he’s gonna make up some elaborate scheme to sneak Kieran back just so we can shake him up and kill him, Law are hot on our tails, the Van Der Lindes are back around... It ain’t worth it...” Dermot locks eyes with Isaac as he speaks, “It. Ain't. Worth it. Understand?” He repeats it like it’s a command this time.“...I understand." Although he wasnt exactly happy about it.“Good boy,” Dermot nods, almost in confirmation to himself more than Isaac. Until his attention shifts, “That horse.” He motions to the big draft they’d fled on. She was lying down at the edge of the campfire glow, craning her neck to groom her feathers.Isaac was confused at the sudden change of subject, “uh- yeah she’s real good, Well behaved.” He really takes her in, her long black mane, the blue roan colouring, and most of all, she was gigantic. The biggest horse he had ever seen
.
“She is, You should have her.”Isaac whipped his head around, his heart fluttered a little, every thought of Kieran and the Van Der Lindes suddenly didn't weigh as heavy, “really?” he’d always wanted his own horse, He didn’t think in a million years he’d get a horse has big and gorgeous as she was so soon.“yeah, I don’t think Colm will want you loitering around camp for much longer, he’s gonna send you out ‘der soon, I want you to have a good horse.” Dermot smiles as he watches Isaac enthusiastically get up to pet her, “found her wanderin’ around outside Valentine once, still had her wagon gear on, thought she’d make a good wagon horse but... Think you’d make a better owner.”“aw gee’ Dermot thank you so much.” Isaac sits beside her to pet her head and examine her closely, she nudges her head into him, “I’m gonna name her Miriam-Bridgett, Midge for short.” Isaac declares, gently patting the side of her face.
“Wow... that’s ...nice name, a nickname too?" Dermot furrowed his brow, smiling. "Jesus- next time I see that horse it’ll probably have it’s own frilly dress and pink stockings.” Dermot chuckled and settled himself down onto the grass a few feet from the camp fire, tucking his arms under his head and sighing, “you sleep properly, I’ll keep watch,”
Isaac rolls his eyes and lies on the cold grass next to his new horse, using her massive frame as a heat source and protection from the wind, gazing up at her like she was some sort of deity.
Before long he felt his eyes drift shut, the events of today were sewed into his mind tightly. Even so, his tired body won as he felt the world melt away around him. His stomachs rumbling was the only sound that registered, and sleep soon silenced it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Hanging dog ranch 1899It was a long ride back to the ranch, but Dermot and Isaac arrived late afternoon. The sun still shone on them, making the water of big valley sparkle, sending bursts of glitter across the deer that drank from it. The air was still crisp from the thaw of winter, but Isaac didn’t feel too cold, especially with Dermot behind him.The older had seen the ride back as a prime opportunity for Isaac to bond with his new horse. That they did, their hack was flawless. Smooth as snake skin. As much as Dermot was happy with Isaacs not-so-limited riding skills, Isaac was even happier at the seamless connection him and Midge had seemed to click with.Dermots own horse, Daisy, was tied up inside the ranches fencing. He slid down from Midge and happily walked over to his horse.“Oh am I glad to see you, gorgeous! I thought you’d have been shot down back at six point!” He threw his arms around his horse. Dermot loved his horse, there was no question about it, and it was obvious his horse loved him back. She was a small, older mare, a ginger and white cob with braids in her mane and a fancy fitted saddle. Isaac only hopped he could treat Midge with that one day.Isaac patted his own horses neck, “well, better get you hitched huh?” he climbed down, hesitating a little as he tried to gauge where the ground was. He walked her over and hitched her beside some morgans that she dwarfed in size. Truely, her size was the first thing you noticed about her.He brushed and patted her down a little, felt bad that she didn’t have proper bridle and worried the rope halter would cut into her, maybe he’d try steal something out of the random boxes of old tack around the camp.He turned to find Dermot again, but almost walked into another O’Driscoll. He stank, most of them did, his was more of body odour than whiskey, unfortunately. He looked up at stern eyebrows as the man held a satchel bag.He wasn’t expecting the weight to hit his chest as the man chucked the bag at him, “some boys went back to six point and grabbed what they could, some shit was stolen, were pretty sure this stuff is yours. We’ve started setting up bedrolls in rows inside the main barn but they’re to be rolled up when you ain’t using em’ keep the floor clear.” The Gang member explained as he started walking away mid-sentance.“oh- thanks...” Isaac mumbled and opened the bag, his vest, his union suit, an old jumper... Random rags and whatnot.“Hey,” Dermots voice sounded from behind, an elongated ‘ay’ at the end. He was up to something. Isaac turned around to see Dermot with his arms behind his back, grinning, eyes glazed slightly, already drunk, what was he up to... “You missin’ something?” he questioned, smirking.He was, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud.“I... don’t think so...why?”The irishman pulled out what looks like a sock at first. Then Isaac recognises, that frayed, woolen mane, the faded colouring, the thread where buttoned eyes once were.“oh...”“baby bodie!” Dermot shoved the old toy in Isaacs face, waving it around as if she were dancing, humming a little tune to go with her.“yeah...yeah thats great Dermot,” Isaac looked away, embarrassed.Dermot does not relent however, “aw look at her! Weren’t you worried about her?” he kept humming a little tune as she danced around.“Y-yes...” Isaac was painfully aware of some of the gangs eyes on them, and reached up to try and pull Dermots hand away, shoving it downward.“oh what? Do not like her anymore? Too old?Ack...well...guess I’ll just go get rid of her then...” Dermot said, sighing dramatically.“hey! No!” Isaac lunged and grabbed Baby Bodie from Dermot. Snatching her and holding her close to his chest.Dermot giggled, “didn’t think so,” he teased, “Sander tell you theres a big pile of bedrolls at the corner of the main barn? We’re setting them out at night when we sleep,”Isaac nodded, “yeah, he told me.”“right well, forget he told you that because your sharing a tent with me, outside. Set up your stuff there.” Dermot motioned somewhere to the side.Isaac huffed in amusement, he was clearly drunk. But he does as he’s told and eventually finds Dermots belongings around a red lean-to with two bedrolls in it.He emptied the saddle bag and started to neatly lay out his things, setting Bodie out as if she was sitting watching over him when he slept. The organised tent, his new horse, Dermot in high spirits, the bigger camp, the beautiful scenery and the incoming of warm weather almost made Isaac forget about Keiran... and the other thing.At that thought, he’s reminded of his new horse and decided it was time once again to go tend to her and some other horses, he scampered off, still in his old vest. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ He was resting on a fence post next to Midge when Dermot approached, looking a little less drunk.“hey pal,” he was holding a repeater, “sorry but uh... Spoke to Colm, says you’ve got a horse now n’ uh... You’ve to go out onto the road. Try get us a meal, hm?” he thrusts the repeater to Isaac as he speaks with a gentle tone. A few men were sat behind, watching, staring at Isaac like he was horse shit on the kitchen floor.It seemed like Dermot cared more than Isaac did, for a while now, Isaac wanted to go out on the trail. Dermot worried more than he let off.“okay uh... Yessir!” Isaac was more enthusiastic the second time round. He scampered for his tent, quickly pulling on his shirt and heading to the tack box. He pulled out the biggest bridal he could, the metal on or was a little rusted, the leather was frayed, but it’d do.He hurried up to Midge, it was already approaching evening rapidly, He pulled the bridal on and fastened it, fitting it the best he could.Without another word he hopped on his saddleless stead and rode out the ranch, turning east up the hill to see if he could find any turkeys.Midge was being her perfect self, he couldn’t of been happier with her, trotting along happily and listening to his commands. He gently patted her neck every so often and praises her, repeater slung over his shoulder. Sun was starting to set but he didn’t want to head back to the ranch empty handed, ofcourse, big valley could be riddled with wolves, he’d have to be careful.Eventually he saw them, a few fat eastern turkeys pecking at the ground over by the brush. He pulled Midge to a halt but getting off her would’ve probably caused the turkeys to spook.He stared intensely at them, caught site of one mottled grey one, particularly fat. It’s fanned tail flapped around as it craned its neck up to swallow a worm.Isaac aimed his repeater, a gun probably too strong for a turkey, took a deep breath.‘aim, set your feet apart, broaden your shoulders and bring the gun to your sight line, not the other way around.’ Words played in his head, Isaac realised the voice belonged to his fathers. He tried his best not to fight it away, remembering what his father taught him all those years ago. Dermot wasn't going to help him. He began to exhale.‘shoot on empty lungs.’The trigger seemed to have pulled itself.A flurry of feathers burst upward from where the bullet hit. A dead turkey among them. Albeit, it was a little chewed up, on a count of the gun not quite being for poultry, but still edible. The rest of the flock had scattered at the blast, gobbling and gaggling as they fled.“Yes!” Isaac hopped up to his win, picking the bird up by the legs and holding it high, “did you see that, girl?”Midge was shifted a little from the gun shot, but she pricked her ears forward and snorted a little. That was acknowledgement enough for Isaac.He climbed back up onto Midge, and rode back to the ranch, one arms since he didn’t have anything to tie the turkey to. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ “well shit, looks like your a natural!” Dermot praised, taking the turkey and inspecting it. He patted Isaacs shoulder, “well done! Just in time fer’ supper too,” behind that approval, Isaac could see relief. He wasn’t sure why, did Dermot doubt him? Think he’d get eaten?A gang member cooked it up, served out a few slices to a group of the gang. When Isaac walked up for his share, the guy cooking looked at Dermot.“Uh ...all out son...theres some canned peaches over by the tent,”Isaacs shoulders drooped, he sighed, not wanting to argue. There wasn’t a can of peaches. There was half a can.He ate those peaches without a single complaint or protest, gave a bit to his horse. He sat beside her as the sun fully tucked itself under the horizon. Watching as the rest of his ‘gang’ drank and sang and ate. There were plenty seats empty, patches of grass heated by the fire place, table tops some men sat on, crates, but no room for Isaac. He knew that.So for now he’d sit by his mute friend, taking in his surroundings and listening to the flow of the streams in big valley, adjacent to the flow of his own thoughts as he was left to think them.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It’d been weeks since Six Point was attacked, and weeks since Isaac was let out of camp to explore.O’Driscolls and Van Der Lindes had more and more collisions, mainly loosing O’Driscolls. It weighed on Isaac heavy, knowing his gang mates were probably being killed off by his father, and he’s the only one that knew it. Unless Arthur knew, and didn’t care, maybe he hated Isaac for it, for betraying him in such a way.
It ate away at him, guilt like a rope around his neck. All he could do now, however, was keep going, serve O’Driscolls, it was his best bet. Maybe if he stayed loyal, he’d work his way up the ranks.He’d accompanied a patrol around Valentine, Dermot was with them, aswell as some gang-mates, Wyatt, ‘Sander, Conor and David. They’d taken a wagon and parked it at an overpass, The boys sat on the wagon and conversed while Isaac restes atop of Midge.He was tired after getting dragged out of bed in tbe early morn, barely remembered the ride there in his sleepy haze. He remembered Wyatt yapping nonsense and Conor spouting tales of the motherland, much to the annoyance of Dermot who knew all too well of the motherland, didn’t need a young’n to remind him.“will you shut up?” Dermot commanded, he was the oldest in the patrol, somewhat of an elder in the gang, having been friends with Colm since before the feuds with Van Der Linde.“Wh- me? I’m just keeping the tales of our people alive, old man!” Conor crossed his arms and tilted his nose up.“Jesus Christ, were from completely different parts of ireland, you arrived in the americas last year and I think everyone from canada to mexico knows of your part."David snorted, Wyatt nodded, Sander rolled his eyes and Conor scoffed but didn’t argue back.
They continued yapping at eachother, Midge had started to fall asleep standing, Isaac rested forward her back.He couldn’t take it anymore, he was sick of the irish yapping, he shook Midge awake and gently kicked her into a slow walk, somehow managing to sneak away from the group. She trotted happily just down from Valentine, he could hear the hustle of farm work and smell the sheep from a hundred feet away or more.He gazed up, thought about going into town to explore, but decided not to, Incase he ran into the wrong person on his own. Instead, he kept trotting along on Midge, watching the bounding of deer and the flutter of small birds as he took in the wildlife.Loosing track of time and ignoring paths, he hadn’t realised Midge was now galloping through trees and undergrowth, he realised the only time he’d run her was running from the attackers in camp. That didn’t matter now, all he felt was the wind in his hair, the beat of hooves on the ground, Midges huge back flexing underneath him, swerving between rocks and trees and dense bushes. It was a free feeling.Until it all came to a halt suddenly, the wind in the trees was deafening, stillness surrounding him. Somewhere in his come-down, he heard life, humanity. By now he was a while away from valentine and it was coming from further into the trees. His feet grew their own minds as they took him off his horse and toward the noise.
He stayed low in the bushes, using the surrounding nature as cover as he approached the sounds. Looking around to make sure he was alone.Panic shot through him monetarily as he caught site of a man looking right at him. Until he realised his eyes were closed and he was slumped back against a rock. He was asleep. A repeated resting against his chest. In his slumber, his mouth hung open, revealing lots of missing teeth. Messy, greasy, bright red hair framed a thin face. He was wildly unintimidating.
Isaac took a deep breath and continued on, until the undergrowth ended abruptly, he looked up slowly, his eyes leading along the blades of grass, through tents and strangers, until he saw him.
Him.…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ He hid in the bushes, tucked tightly into himself, Baby Bodie in his arms.“Where are you, boy!”He giggled into himself, covering his mouth with his hand.He watched his father practically walk in circles looking for him. Hands on his hips with a facade of anger that Isaac knew all too well was an act. He kept giggled to himself and holding onto Bodie until his mother appeared,
“What’re you boys doing? Dinners ready get in the house!” she scolded, looking at Arthur, then walking away, back to the house.He chucked, “alright, son, come on out before yer’ mama kills me.”Isaac jumped out the bushes with a ‘roar’ and bounced toward his father. Who jumped back in an over-dramatic sort of fear. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Isaac stared at that blue shirt, scrapped boots and golden hair. He’d aged in the last few years, quite a bit. Crows feet were now deeply indented into his temples, his eyebrows were permanently knitted into a scowl and his eyes were alot more and lidded then he remembered. Sadder, in a way.His father wasn’t looking for him, not anymore. Ofcoarse he wasn’t. He stood listening to the younger man, listening but not reacting in any notable way. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. His father. Right there. A few steps away. Steps he nearly took, until a hand clamped over his mouth.“Ssshh” someone from behind silenced him, then bent around him to show their face, keeping a camp firmly on his mouth.Keiran.Isaacs shock filtered into dismay, then confusion, then anger.Keiran slowly put a finger over his mouth, then equally as slowly took his hand off Isaac’s.“Traitor!” Isaac hissed.Keiran flinched, guilt written all over his face, “That’s doesn’t matter right now, why are you here?” he whispered back.“'course it matters! ...was wandering, you boy’s ain’t exactly quiet.” Isaac was struggling to keep his voice down, but maintaining the hushed tone.“Are you alone?”“...yes...” He hesitated, what was Keiran up to? “what? you gonna hand me over?”“No I-“ Keiran looked around, then leaned in close to Isaac, “Listen you gotta go, please, go, don’t tell a soul where we were.”“why should I? Hell, I should report to Colm as soon as I get back.” He couldn’t believe that had just left his own mouth, his father was standing right there. Shame burrowed deep in his chest.“No! No no no... don’t do that, please.” Keiran cupped his hands together in a beg, “these guys ain’t so bad. Theres women, children here. Please!”Isaac felt his own face scrunch up in annoyance, no doubt the freckles were bunching together. Yet, he didn’t say anything.“You- you look skinny...” Keiran offered, looking Isaac up and down. He was right. By now his shirt was starting to drape over him more like a blanket, his wrists were boney and his cheeks were starting to hug his cheekbones a little tighter.“Yeah, what about it?” Isaac accused.“...I can get you some food, not alot, some. A can or two, but you gotta keep this-“ he motioned around, “ a secret.”That. That was something. He barely took time to think about it until his empty stomach answered for him, he nodded.“Meet at the river just down from here at dark, I’ll give you something-““O’Driscolls boy! Where are you? I ain’t gonna hurt you!...yet...” an unfamiliar voice bounced off the trees. No wonder Isaac found their camp.“I gotta go... Meet me...” Keiran hurried away, patting Isaacs shoulder and quickly leaning on a table, trying to look natural.“see you, ‘O’Driscoll boy’” Isaac chided. He cast one more quick glance to where Arthur stood. He was gone now, disappeared into the blur of tents and campfires.
He turned back, wiping his eyes and sneaking through the bushes once again, back to where Midge stood. He pulled himself up onto her back, shaking a little. The thought of his father standing a hair away. So close. And Isaac missed his chance. Better yet, he’d just betrayed his current gang.
He was helping Keiran sneak around his fathers gang, and he was conversing with a Van Der Linde. Yet again, shame burned deep inside.
He kicked Midge back into a trot, thinking of his father, Keiran and the excuses he’d tell Dermot when he returned to his patrol.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“where you been?”
“huh?”
Dermot’s arms were crossed, he clearly wasn’t happy with Isaac for being gone, “don’t ‘huh’ me, Where’d you sneak off to? Why’d you sneak off?”
“was just wanderin’? Nothin’ bad.” Isaac tried his best to keep his voice steady, in reality he was sweating, he swore his heart would crack his ribs if it beat any faster. Dermot was ontop of Daisy, it’s clear he’d been looking for Isaac.
“did anyone say you could ‘just wander’?” Dermot asked, rhetorically.
“well I-“
“No. When your out with a group you stay. With. The. Group. Understand?”
“yes sir.” He sagged his head and tried to look as beat down as possible, to hide the relief on his face. Dermot believed him. Somehow, he believed him.
He realised ‘Sander, Wyatt and the others were watching. Conor, who was alot younger than the rest, looked almost a little sympathetic.
“Right. Well... Nancy and Siobhan are staying in Valentine. I’d stay and shout at you all day but... I ain’t sent Nancy a letter to say we’re comin’ and she’ll be annoyed if she doesn’t know she’s cookin’ for four.” Dermots voice softened a little, looking Isaac up and down, “I say we just leave from here, maybe stay the night with them. Hm?”
“yeah.” Isaac nodded, not daring to meet Dermots eyes.
“right well, you boys go back to hangin’ dog, Wyatt your in charge of the patrol back. Colm probably won’t realise were gone, but if he does say well be back tomorrow...or the day after.” He turned back to the other O’Driscolls, Wyatt nodded and they all put on their balaclavas for the trip back, except Conor, who put a black bandana on.
Dermot turned back to Isaac, glaring at him before kicking Daisy into a trot forward, giving the boy a rough pat on the shoulder to follow. He did so, silently commanding Midge to go forward. It was silent between them for a while, Isaacs head hung in shame a little. He hated when Dermot was mad at him.
“You can’t go doing stuff like that, kid,” Dermots tone was as if he was giving advice rather than scolding him, “it reflects back on me. Colm...well... He’s not a huge fan of having a kid in camp. Especially not the way things are right now. Law and the Van Der Lindes... I don’t want you out on the streets. It ain't easy, trust me. It ain’t easy.” Dermot emphasised that last part, clearly getting a message across.
“I understand,” Isaac nodded, still looking down.
Dermot gave him a little half smile, as of prompting him to look up, he gives him a pretend punch to the forearm. At attempt at playfulness that isn’t reciprocated, “you know I love ye’ kid, hm?”
“...mhm”
“here,” Dermot reached into his saddle bag and pulled out Isaacs navy vest and green tie, “put this on so Nancy doesn’t see you looking like a stray,” he chucks it at him, Isaac buttons it up, noticing how it doesn’t hold his torso very tight.
The ride into Valentine was silent after that, a sombre note hung thick in the air. They passed a saloon, Isaac was sure he saw two. He spectated the people around him, some men were carrying wooden planks over to another house they building next to the general store. Some drunkard was babbling nonsense to a woman who clearly wasn’t interested outside the big saloon. Another mans horse had convinced itself it was stuck on the porch of the gun store, and refused to move. Some other women were leaning over the railing of the hotel, pointing at men and giggling. I’m was unusual to Isaac, society as a whole was. He wasn’t used to being surrounded by such variety of people.
They approach a house, it’s fairly nice, fairly big considering Nancy’s financial situation. Made Isaac wonder how she got it.
“this is the place I’m sure, c’mon.” Dermot got down from Daisy's back and left her to graze on the patch of grass next to the house. Isaac followed suit, staring back at the horses to make sure they were okay.
They step up onto the porch, Dermot knocked the door once. Twice. Before a lady in a blue dress, with messily tied up brown hair opens it. Nancy.
“hello Dermot,” she said plainly, looking up at him. She took a double take at Isaac, then her face lit up, “ah! Look who it is!”
She ran at him, arms outstretched, shoving Dermot out the way. Isaac knew resistance was futile.
Nancy grabbed him and tackled him, taking him into a suffocating hug, swaying a little she presses a few kisses to his forehead and cheek. Isaac tried to smile whilst making an attempt to spread his arms, to give his rib cage some room.
“Oh- thank you- n-Nancy, I missed you too, “ He choked out.
She finally pulled away, still holding his shoulders with a massive grin, examining him, “oh you’ve gotten so big again, every time i see you! My lord, your gonna be tall, always be a little boy to me tho.”
Isaac felt his smile lines deepen as she grabbed his cheek and pinched it with that little baby voice she does, as much as she was overbearing, Isaac appreciated having someone so ecstatic to see him.
Through the commotion, Isaac hadn’t even realised Siobhan also showed face, giving her father, Dermot, a much calmer hug. Dermot and Siobhan’s appearance was truely striking. Both had bright red hair, light green eyes, a red flush go their cheeks that never seemed to go away no matter the temperature. It reminded of Isaac of how people used to tell him he looked like his own father, he supposed in his new family he resembled Nancy more.
“Come in! Come in!” Nancy waved her arms around with hurried footsteps back into the house. Dermot followed her,
“Do I not get such a warm welcome Nancy? Eh?”
“Oh shut up and sit down yoy weasel”
Their bickering faded away into the warm light of the house, still out on the porch, Siobhan opened her arms infront of Isaac. Offering a hug instead of attacking him. He accepted silently.
“You been okay?” she asked in her gentle voice, she was a little older than Isaac, he’d always looked up to her as a sort of older sister. Her presence in general lightened his mood, she was always messing around with her waist-length hair or trying on fun dresses. Bringing out a more child-like side of Isaac, considering she was pretty much the only other kid around. When Isaac was younger he was a guinea pig for her homemade perfume and flower crowns. He’d never admit that he found it as fun as she did.
“yeah, m’ okay, you?” He smiles at her, they walk into the house together. Immediately he was hit with a smell of soap, Nancy had obviously been cleaning. It was a simple house, a few gas lamps lit, a simple kitchen area with a bucket on the floor for washing, a couch placed pretty randomly in the corner, bunk beds on the opposite corner and a dinner table with four chairs surrounding it. He noticed there was no upstairs, it seemed like it was a two story house but he’d ask later, must’ve been an apartment sort of building, made sense. Him and Siobhan sat on the couch and immediately got to catching up.
“Some girls been teaching’ me to read at the church,” she smiled, then read a few lines of the news paper left on the sofas arm....
“got a new horse,” Isaac took her back out onto the porch to show off his new horse, she wowed and fed her some grass she ripped up from the ground.
...
“ Mama’s been teaching me to cook,” Siobhan fidgets with her hands nervously as she says it, until Nancy shouts over from her own cooking in the kitchen, a pot now starting to line the roof with steam, “yup n’ it’s a pathetic attempt your makin’ to learn!”
...
“Started goin’ out missions with some of the other boys,” The mood shifted as Isaac said this. Siobhan looked him over and say silently for a while and he could hear Nancy spitting something at Dermot through gritted teeth in the kitchen. Siobhan looked like she was about to say something until Nancy started to set the table. Dinner already, him and Siobhan always seemed to get lost in conversation.
Dermot sat at the table, picking up both his knife and fork and holding them vertically, practically drooling at the mouth. Siobhan and Isaac sat next to eachother, waiting patiently with their hands on their lap for their meal.
Nancy sets out two bowls, smiling at the two children. She then scowls at Dermot when setting out the other bowls, before sitting down and reaching out for both Siobhan and Dermots hand, Siobhan takes it, Dermot rolls his eyes and holds it hesitantly, Isaac mirrors this and holds Siobhan’s hand very subtly. Nancy starts saying a quick prayer, saying alot of stuff about the good lord Isaac was never accustomed to. Never quite felt right to shut his eyes during a prayer he never truely prayed.
She finished, they eat, most of the conversation is between Siobhan and Dermot. Father and Daughter clearly keen to communicate after such a time apart. Nancy made a few attempts at striking a conversation with Isaac, it was never reciprocated. He would be meeting Kieran soon, the sun was starting to make it’s journey over the horizon line. If it wasn’t for the aching hunger in his belly, he might’ve been too nervous to eat. Might’ve, since before he knew it he’d scoffed his plate, putting down his cutlery and tilting it up to get every last drop, practically licking the residue off-
Until he realised he was making these horrible slurping mouth noises, everyone at the table was watching, especially Nancy, who looked very concerned and Dermot, who looked embarrassed, Siobhan trying to hide her giggles. He decided to put the bowl down and pretend to be civilised until further notice. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Night had struck, that familiar pounding returned to Isaac’s chest as he weakly forced the door open. Hearing Dermots snoring behind him. Revealing the street lamps that made the town glow yellow. He shakily stepped out, trying to shut the door slowly. He pulled waiting for that click, scrunching his face up. Finally the door clicked shut and he tiptoed off the porch, as soon as his boot his the grass, he made a B-line for Midge. Nearly slipping on the dew on the grass and causing her to panic a little bit, pacing with her ears pinned.
“sshh...its me, girl, it’s me. We need to go, now.” Isaac gave her a few gentle pats before launching himself onto her back, pushing her into a gallop before he was even seated properly.
“So far so good...” he whispered to himself, taking a deep breath. He’d made it out of valentine. Now to the river not far from where he’d saw the camp.
He was afraid of being caught, every teenager would be. But even more, he was afraid of that disappointment look Dermot would give him. He hated it. It was Dermots magical way of making him feel guilty, except he probably fully deserved it this time. The fast rhythm of Midge’s hooves hitting the cold dirt aligned with his heart. The wind managed to wipe the sweat off his forehead and hug him, coldly, only causing his goosebumps to rise even more.
By the time he’d arrived to the meeting point, he was almost frantic, his eyes darted around the tiny, sandy coast, water lapping at the grains and bulrush reeds playing in the waves, searching frantically for Keiran. Until he saw that scratched up black jacket kneeling near the river, waving at him. Suddenly, unexplainably, his hysteria gave way to anger. Stumbling off of Midge who followed him close behind.
Isaac stomped up to Keiran, “what you got?” it was practically a command, puffing out his chest to seem bigger.
Keiran looked confused, before shaking his head and pulling out two cans from his pockets, “lets see we come some-uh... Soup n some-“
“gimme.” The younger reached out and snatched the can from him, inspecting it closely to make sure it wasn’t opened already, “you ain’t poisoned it or nothin’ have you, Van Der Linde?”
“what? No!” Keiran rolled his eyes and scoffed, forcing the other can into Isaacs chest, “hey- hey- I shouldn’t even be doing this. We should both be hung up for this. I’m bein’ nice ‘cause your just a kid, n I know that bunch is hard as an adult, never mind a juvenile.”
Isaac tucked the cans into his satchel, the old strap of it looking like it was about to give way. He’d save the cans for later, having already been well fed that night. He turned back to Keiran, and stared into his eyes angrily. In all honesty he didn’t even know what he was doing, it seemed like it made Keiran uncomfortable anyway. Asserting dominance?
Keiran gulped a little and shifted, desperately trying to break eye contact with the teenager by turning his gaze to his horse, “That’s a – ahem. A nice mare.”
“I know.”
“She uh...yours?”
Isaac looked back at his trusted horse, an opportunity to talk about her could not be passed down, whether or not it was a filthy traitor asking, “yeah, names Miriam-Bridget, Midge for short. She’s the best mare around.”
Keiran smiled a little, “well uh...shame because I’m afraid that title belongs to my Branwen.”
Isaac did not laugh, went back to staring at Keiran angrily.
“Or-...or not...” Keiran offered.
“hm. Well I’m going back. Meet here next week. Same time.” Isaac eyed Keiran up and down and began to mount Midge again.
“Wha- I-Isaac, I can’t just-“
“you can’t just wut? Fend off the O’Driscolls when I tell them just where you are?” he threatened.
“I...sure...meet back here but- your gonna’ get us both killed.” …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ The ride back was lonely and quiet, the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of the bushes failing to free Isaac of the burning guilt.
He parked Midge up beside the house again, she greeted Daisy by crossing her neck with hers and grooming her shoulder, to which Daisy reciprocate.
He sloppily stepped up to the door again, walking a little too loudly on the porch. Only making it half way up the stairs when a streak of orange is cast across him.
Dermot was standing in the door, smoking his cigar and staring right through Isaac.
“w-what?” Isaac furrowed his brow.
“what the fuck do you mean what Isaac? You’ve snuck off twice today, alone.”
His bad. Probably a stupid idea to disappear twice in the same day. Isaac felt his breath hitch in his throat, “I-I was just wanderin’” It comes out as more combative than he intends.
“Just wanderin’? At this hour?” Dermot hasn’t got that disappointed look Isaac hates, he’s angry. Actually angry, and borderline shouting into the streets of valentine. He steps back and snaps his arm, pointing inside, “Get in. Now.”
Isaac huffs and drags his feet into the house, “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he mumbled.
A sharp fist balls itself into Isaac’s shirt collar and yanks. Without realising it, he’s face to face with Dermot, the cigar smoke burning his eyes. He’s now less worried about getting into trouble snd more genuinely scared as the green bullets of Dermots eyes shoot through his own.
“The hell-“
“you’ve been off, Way off. I swear to got Isaac, if I find out you’ve been doing some stupid shit-“ He pauses. “I love you. You’re my son. I feel as though I make that very clear. But love doesn’t get you far in this world. It doesn’t. Colm does. Loyality. Does. N’ you don’t get ti question that and i can’t – for the love of god I can not have you sneaking off and being an idiot, Isaac. Loyalty over love, do you understand?” Dermot is breathless, almost crazed looking. It terrifies Isaac into almost silence.
“wh- why are you questioning my loyalty? ‘Course I’m loyal!”
“Do you understand!” Dermot shakes him so violently his head bobs back and forth.
“ I understand! I understand...” Isaac nods quickly, clutching at Dermots wrist, trying to get him to let go.
Dermot seems to realise how tight his grip is on the boy and let go immediately. A flash of sorry flickers across his face before he pinches his nose bridge with a groan and swings open the door, slamming it so hard the upstairs neighbour shouts down.
Isaac stared at the door, stunned. Dermot had been mad before. He’d been really mad. And Isaac had been manhandled by some of the other O’Driscolls. It was something he was accustomed to, but not Dermot. Not like that. Not with that wide-eyed manic in his gaze. Even when Siobhan and Nancy knelt down beside him to see if he was okay, Wrapping their arms around him. He couldn’t help but be haunted by the feeling of his own collar so tightly wrapped around his neck.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Days had gone by. He’d went straight back to Hanging Dog the day after he’d met Keiran. Isaac still couldn’t believe it, Dermot could be rough, he was an outlaw, ofcourse he could be rough- and loud and drunk and bossy and brash and foolish. However, not once had he ever been so violent wth Isaac, never taken that sort of tone, never hold him by his throat, never made him genuinely fear for his well-being. As much as Isaac was staying at the ranch, he spent most of daylight off the property, avoiding the Irishman like the plague.
He’d left Midge at some clearing and set off to make himself useful, climbed a tree and sprawled himself out amongst the thick branches. Aiming his repeater forward at some deer. There was a doe, looked fawnless and meaty. This would he his first deer kill, if he landed the shot. He took a deep breath, tensing his hand onto the trigger, bracing for the kickback. She was peacefully eating grass amoungst some other whitetails, all blissfully unaware of their hunter.
He pulled the trigger the bang bounced around the surrounding trees and landed right back into his ear drums.

His heart lurched again as he watched those blonde curls become red strings of meat and brain matter. Her freckles became blood splatters along the walls and lifeless form hit the ground with a gut wrenching crunch. Blood drenched Isaac, covering him, he looked at his own trembling hands and reached out for his mother, barely recognisable, her vertebrae sticking out from where her head was supposed to be. Why wasn’t it there? He lay two bloodied hands on a bloodied shirt. Sobbing, unsure what to do, breathing short ragged breaths, the world span in swirles of red and a suffocating flurry of gunsmoke.

Isaac blinked open to look up at the green leaves of the oak tree he had secured himself in ten minutes ago. He felt the soft grass underneath him fail to ground his panting and panicking. Lifting up his right hand to inspect it. The blood was gone. He was simply lying on the forest floor, somehow.
“Shit...get up, c’mon idiot-“ he scolded himself and started forcing himself over onto his stomach with a grunt, squinting as he tried to overcome his dizziness. Infront of him was the doe, dead with a fairly clean gunshot into the side of her neck. Her lifeless eyes stared into Isaacs, her pink tongue splayed out onto the grass infront of her shiney black nose, some half-chewed grass she never got to finish eating.
He tried to push himself up, but was met with an almost unbearable pain in his elbow, he groaned in agony but switched his weight onto his other arm, finally standing himself upright, swaying. To the side of him was the gun. When had he fallen out the tree? How long had he been lying lifeless on the grass next to that deer?
He swore he was seeing double, he shook his head a few times and wiped the dirt off his face, gathering himself just enough to approach his kill. Pulling out a hunting knife from his satchel he’d swiped from another O’Driscoll, he started to skin the deer, doing a pretty botched job of it through his weariness.
A sharp, winding pain was sent straight through his left arm again, winding down his arm this time, so bad it made him curse aloud, “damn...”, He packed up the deer meat best he could and strapped his gun back onto himself, before he started feeling around the middle section of his arm. The bone in his elbow was sticking a little off, he was painful to touch, and a little swollen. He whistled for Midge and before long that familiar beating of hooves sounded from behind him. He turned to see her cantering toward him, greeting him with a few snorts and a whiney. Isaac tucked the deers skin onto her back, it wasn’t the best but maybe someone would find it useful.
Sloppily pulling himself up onto her with one arm, leaning forward to lie against her neck for a second, “I ain’t got no idea what happened girl, one second i was in the tree, the next I wasn’t n- shit...guess I’m gonna have to tell Dermot ‘bout this arm,” the dreadful thought of facing Dermot again, with an inconvenience for Dermot to mend.
He squeezed her side into a short trot, usually he’d ride faster but he more or less had to ride with one arm, aswell as try stay in a straight line with his ears ringing and eyes rolling around uncontrollably. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷThe Ranch was fairly quiet now, most of the boys had migrated to Lone Mule Stead after they recovered from Six – point and whatever mess happened up in the mountains. He walked up to his and Dermots tent, making conscious effort to put one foot infront of the other, holding his head or occasionally pinching his eyes shut. Dermot was kneeling, cleaning his gun and smoking a cigar on his bedroll. He looked up at Isaac with a furrowed brow before his eyes flared with concern, watching as he stumbled over.
“You drunk, boy?”
“agh...no... I got some meat, though, n’-” his sentence was interrupted with another groan, “-n’ theres an okay pelt on Midge.” He fished the meat out his satchel and held it our for Dermot, Dermot took his. Barely looked at it, before placing it down on a tin box that sat on top of one of the near by crates without a word.
“whats wrong?” he grabbed Isaacs face, Isaac fought the urge to struggle free but his touch was gentle as he pulled his head side to side, assessing the damage whilst taking puffs of his cigar.
“Nothin’...f-fell outta tree... Hit my head and m’ arm,” He mumbled it under his breath, he’d probably put alot more effort into making himself heard if the buzzing in his head was quieter.
“mm...” Dermot hummed in acknowledgement and directed Isaac over to his bedroll, sitting him down to examine his head further, “ay, theres w bit of a bump but... Ain’t open or anything, you dizzy?”
“...yeah...”
“thats no’ good. And your arm?”
“really hurts.”
Dermot takes his attention off Isaacs head and turns it to his arm. He feels around, poking and prodding at Isaacs elbow, he does this for so long Isaac nearly falls asleep, as painful as it is. A bone was poking out through the skin awkwardly, Dermot knew. Isaacs woken by a simple command, “it’s dislocated, stay still.”
Isaac didn’t catch what he said when, without warning, Dermot grabs Isaac by the fore-arm and just below his elbow, snapping it downward so it makes a ‘popping’ noise. Isaac cries out in pain and tries to flinch away but Dermot grabs him again.
“Calm down, son, I think thats it fixed mostly, but I’m gonna wrap it up. Try go easy on it for a while.” Dermots voice betrays his dead-pan face as it’s filled with care. He rumages through some random bags and boxes near the tent, still puffing at the cigar, pulling out a roll of old bandages. A silence meets them as Dermot twirls the fabric around Isaacs elbow, pulling tight so it provides at least a little support, “I’ve got no idea what I’m doing but that seems right, as for yer’ head, does it hurt?”
“mm... A little...”
“Feel sick?”
“Not really.”
“dizzy still?”
“yeah.
“Tired?”
“yup?”
“hear alright? Ears ringin’?”
“huh?”
“yeah didn’t think so, disoriented?”
“a little...”
The older man didn't say anything, held his cigar between his index and middle finger, clearly deep in thought a furrowed brow.
“I’d takes my bets on you’ve got a concussion, ain’t no way in hell m taking you to a doctor though, too expensive. Rest, don’t sleep yet, rest.” He repeated, “stay in the tent and lay down, close your eyes, m’ gonna go get you somethin’”
Isaac flops backwards onto his bedroll, trying his hardest to stay awake. He wriggled his shirt off and threw it off to the side somewhere, trying to get comfy.
If he was honest he was enjoying the treatment, he missed Dermot, even in the few days they'd barely spoken. Some guilt washed away a little bit as Dermot returned with a small bucket and a wet cloth. He knelt beside him, dabbing at his head gently, Isaac swore he heard some gentle coo’s but his own haziness made him unsure. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷStars mirrored Isaac freckles apon the sky he rode under, using the moons silver light to find his way back to that spot next to the water. The waves lapped peacefully over the sand, a familiar face greeted him.
“Isaac.”
“Keiran,” he nodded and brought Midge to a halt, dismounting and walking over to the scrawny man. The last two meals he’d given him felt good, that rumble in his stomach had died down and he could focus better – or atleast he could before he decked it and knocked his brain around.
Keiran silently pulled out two more cans, both soup, more filling meals than the canned fruit, “Van Der Lindes have a big stew pot everyones shares from, even me, they won’t miss it.”
“don’t give a shit if they miss it,” he snatched the can and pocketed it, Keiran seemed to clock his wrapped up arm, tilting his head and pointing at it.
“what happened?”
Isaac shuffled, looking at his feet and biting the gun of his cheek. In truth, he felt quite pathetic for the way he’d fell out that tree. It was a stupid mistake, stupid visions that didn’t even make sense. An a reward he never received as he simply watches the older men in camp eat all his game before he could even salivate at the thought. In truth, if Keiran wasn’t handing over some food right now, he’d probably be sniffing around for scraps and eating berried from bushes. It was demeaning, like a stray dog that no one quite has the spine to get rid of. He decided to meet Keirans question with a neutral tone, “Fell, hit my head too,” Isaac remarked.
“shit, you alright?” he hated how genuine Keirans tone was, he was convinced Van Der Lindes were going to jump out at him any second but that worried expression made it feel real, made him want to let his guard down, he hated it.
“nah, concussion, ain’t felt right, probably won’t for a while but I’ll be alright,”
“Ol’ Dermot not bring you to a doctor or nothin’? Ain’t like you to- slip up...I guess.”
“Dermot? No, we kinda got in an argument... kinda, n’ it wasn’t a slip up, just one of them things.” Isaac could feel his hackles raising, like a cornered cat in an alleyway.
“Alright alright, didn’t mean anythin’ by it, n’ Colm?”
“Ain’t seen him, he’s with another group of boys, they set camp up elsewhere, hell if I know.” He jerked his boney shoulders up, and span to sit down on a nearby rock, picking up some sticks and jabbing the ground with them. Keiran looked around awkwardly for a few seconds before joining him.
It was a strange feeling, the conversation had gotten so casual, he was speaking with the enemy and yet he wasn’t checking over his shoulder half as much as he did in his own camp. He was really sitting down and settling to have a full blown conversation with a traitor. He really had went delusional in his hunger.
Their two mares had crossed their heads over eachothers shoulders and were grooming one and other. Branwens pretty red and silver coat was practically glowing in the streaks of light reflected by tbe water, Midges murkier grey was still pretty, in a whole different way. If Branwen was the water she was the plants beneath it, or maybe the reeds above it.
“You don’t like it wit’ those boys do you?” Keiran stared off into the stream, the dark circles of his eyes flexed into a thinking face.
Isaac thought aswell, considered. He never liked Colm, truthfully, thought he was arrogant, stupid, money-hungry, used his men. Wasn’t fair on any of them. He didn’t like being starved, didn’t like being cast away, didn’t like being the inconvenience he was. Dermot was the only reason he stayed, only family he had. It was futile to pretend like he hadn’t thought of running back to his blood father, showing up to camp without warning, maybe tens of O’Driscolls following him. It wouldn’t matter, though, his father would either shoot him on the spot, the ultimate punishment for the coward he’d been all those years ago, or wrap his arms around him, take him in, tuck him in like he used to. Judging by the paper’s, and the stories around the green camp fire, his father was a different man, or different to who Isaac thought he was. If only Isaac wasn’t so scared as to try it, maybe he’d get some answers.
His head hurt too much to think sbout this.
“No, care about Macbrian though.”
“mm, thought so,” A long pause, Keiran patted down his long coat, flattening it, doing what little he could to seem s little neater, “how is he anyway?”
Isaac was surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere, “Dermot, awh- he’s fine, Nothin’ new,” from there, the conversation swerved into a much more positive catch-up. Like it had been those weeks ago in tbe stables together but, even closer, considering they now had the power to snitch on one and other.
Somehow after that night, there was a mutual, silent agreement that would never happen, it wasn’t worth it for either of them, and they both needed something, someone in their lives who didn’t have it out for them. Just this once.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Help!”
a girlish squeal. Same as usual, Isaac was just out wandering, a little hunting, maybe he’d even try his first robbery. He ignored the screaming, was probably a little girl messing around, as annoying as it was, especially considering his head still ached. Midge was lazily trotting along, both enjoying a fairly peaceful stroll quite a while from Strawberry, closer to Blackwater even. Where the green grass started to tint yellow and the sun shone a little warmer. Some pronghorn bounded past them, causing the rodents among tbe foliage to scurry away infront of the boy and his horse, nearly getting squished under her gigantic hooves. He still hadn’t gotten her a saddle, nor even a better bridal, but she seemed content, and so was he, even if riding bareback was a little hard.

“Please somebody!” another shriek.

“Goddamn, wut is that?” Isaac looked around, he pulled Midge to a stop and started looking around, his eyes dragging over every blade of grass, twisting his torso awkwardly to find out. Behind him, on a hill to the right, was what looked like a grown man, flailing his arms around. Surely that wasn’t what’s making the noise. Surely. He almost turned back around when he heard it again. It was definitely coming from the direction of the man on the hill. So with a sigh and a pout, he pulled the reigns to spin his horse around, and sped over to the man. As he got closer, he realised the man didn’t have a horse, had he been robbed or was this guy crazy enough to be out on the plains without a mount? He was a fairly large man, shirtless, sunburned, tattered blue jeans covered in poorly sewn patches...and a top hat? Messy blonde hair that leaked down his cheeks into some uneven mutton chops.

“What the hell are you screaming about, N’ what. Are. You. Wearin’? ” Isaac questioned, his annoyance evidence in his voice. He knew himself that he wasn’t the fanciest dressed in the west, but he sure as hell wasn’t wearing blue jeans and a top hat.

“m-my- Donkey!”

“your donkey?”

“she’s lost! Probably so scared and alone! Please mister I need your help findin’ her!” The old man stared up at Isaac from the ground, genuinely pleading.

“Okay okay- just...shut up n’ I’ll help.” Isaac dismounted Midge and started to look around, it didn’t take long before he saw it. A fairly large mule, grazing calmly. He glanced back at the man, who was looking in the complete opposite direction.

“is that...” He slowly walked up to the mule, it was docile, especially for a mule, he even started talking gentle to it, thinking it would spook and bolt but it didn’t. Conscious to use his uninjured arm, He grabbed it’s bridal, which was fairly good quality, matching with it’s saddle and stirrups. As the him and the mule walked back to the blonde man, he whipped around a jumped in joy a little, then wrapped his hands around his found companions neck.

“oh I missed you, girl! Where’d you go? Thank you so much stranger, I don’t know how you did it.”

Isaac shuffled awkwardly, “uh...she was right-...you know what? Your welcome.” he watched as the old man kept hugging and cuddling with his mule, not sure whether to leave. He also couldn’t help but notice that that mule was not a girl mule, it also wasn’t a donkey.

“I can’t believe you found my donkey!”

“it’s .... it’s not a donkey, whats your deal mister?” “what?”

“what... are you gone in the head?”

“No sir.” The blonde man answered, Isaac was expecting some sort of elaboration but it never came.

“Whats yer’ name?” Isaac asked.

“Irwin, farmer Irwin.” Irwin answered with a handshake.

“oh, you a farmer?”

“yes, i own a few properties across west Elizabeth and New Austin,” This was intriguing, man had property but no shirt.

“huh, i see,”

“I’m stayin’ in a cabin in Tall Trees, near Manzanita Post, you know it? You should pay me a visit, I live alone.”

“yeah, I can tell.” Isaac started to climb back onto his own horse, “Maybe I will mister, I’ll see you around.” Maybe he had food, and some better clothes, and money. Isaac would rob him here and now if he couldn’t tell his pockets were empty. With that, the older man tipped his top hat and rode away on his ‘donkey’. Isaac watched him ride away for a little, before signing and started to ride back to the ranch, his headache still prominent.

ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

Sitting at camp, Isaac watched on as Colm and Dermot conversed at a table. He was smoking a cigarette at his tent, trying to look tough and manly enough for Colm. It terrified him whenever their leader showed up at camp, knowing full well that he didn't like him, he didn't like him at all. Colm saw Isaac as a waste of space and material, it's why he didn't get fed. It's also why Isaac didn't dare tell him who his father was, not a chance. He'd hand him over in a heart beat, use him as some bait. The mere thought within Colms presences gave him heart palpitations, made him feel sick as if Colm could read the boys thoughts. He glanced over at them, Colm was looking at Isaac. They were talking about him. He whipped his head back around, wide-eyed, taking a drag of his cigarette that filled his chest so big it burned and the following puff of smoke felt like it lasted hours. The rest of the gang were over by the fire, same story, occasionally glancing at Colm. It seemed like the irishman were deep in conversation, in a plan.
Colm always sort of confided in Dermot, if Dermot agreed or disagreed it didn't really matter, seemed like Colm actually enjoyed proving him wrong when he did agree. Still, you could feel the discomfort radiating from Dermot, even if they were 'friends'. Eventually, Dermot nodded, and they rose from the table, walking over to firepit the rest of the gang were sat at. They all looked up at him expectantly and Isaac quickly walked over to sit with them. For once, he pushed in, making Wyatt budge over on the log he was on. The older met the younger with a scowl, to which Isaac met him with same expression, waiting too see what Colm was announcing. Every single man was on the edge of his seat, wide eyed. If they were horses their ears would be pinned forward, ready to obey."Boys..." Colm started, "we've had a tough time recently, Seems the law has bunked down, Van Der Lindes are in our territory... it's tough i know, i know it's tough." He puts his arms out in fake surrender, nodding in acknowledgement, as if he wasn't wearing a luxury fur coat while everyone else bore rags, "but you boys ain't been bringing in enough to help yourselves, let alone eachother, huh?" Dermot seemed to cringe at Colms words, while the rest of the O'Driscolls hung their heads in guilt, furrowing their brows at eachother in blame, rubbing their necks awkwardly. "Mhm... You boys gotta get out there, y'do, n' old Colm does his best fer' you, you know he does but I can't do it all by myself." Resentment burned in Isaacs chest, Colm knew that wasn't true, it was almost as if he was making fun of the men, rubbing it in their face that their efforts were unappreciated. "Conor, you gotta stop yappin' and get to the point," Colm said it was if it was helpful criticism, as if he wasn't just telling him to shut up, "Boyce, you gotta stop listening to yer' trigger finger and listen to yer' head, n you- Macbrians kid-" Isaac felt the hair along his spine rise, his shoulders go tense, his throat go dry, his lungs fail to bring in oxygen. "Whats yer' name- whats his name?" Colm whispered to Dermot."Isaac." Dermot answered."Isaac! Isaac my boy... Get yer' head out yer' ass, c'mon now, falling out of trees? Get a grip son, you silly boy."Isaac felt sudden panic be replaced with red hot anger, being scolded like a child, like he wasn't hunting for everyone else, like he was below, like a stupid child. 'shut up y'old fool, using these poor boys fresh off the boats from ireland to do you bidding, using their blood against them, shame on you." Is what Isaac would've said, if he was a bit bigger, and had a few more guns, and a few more hands to fire the guns. What he actually said was a mere, choked out,"yes sir.""Good boy, can't be complainin' 'bout no food if you ain't bringing it in to eat, anyway..."He had been. he had been bringing in food. He was bringing in food and not getting to eat, not a string of it, he locked eyes with Dermot, silently pleading him to say something, anything in protest. He knew Isaac was more than some dumb kid. Dermot didn't open his mouth, simply looked back at Colm.Colm yapped on, Isaac wasn't listening, looking at the down at his injured arm blankly, as if he were inspecting every little fibre of the fabric, Thinking about what he'd just been told. Was that it? Was he a subject to simply work and work until he's eventually shot down in some battle for nothing, over blood thirsty tyrants? Would he ever have kids? Find a partner? Would he make it to tomorrow or would the Van Der Lindes infiltrate their camp before he opened his eyes tomorrow morning? Maybe he'd be shot by his own kin.That night was rough, he stared up at the sky, watching every twinkle and shine, the moon was large that night, healthy and full, something Isaac wasn't as he once again felt his belly growl. Unfortunately, he'd eaten the two cans Keiran handed over, now he was left to starve until someone gave him left overs, he went to Nancy's, or he met with Keiran again.
He thought about that old fool he'd met on the prairie, though stupid, he was kind. Was quick to ask Isaac to visit, thanked him profusely and acknowledged his favour, wasn't too prideful as to ask a younger for help.
Maybe Isaac would pay him a visit
thinking Dermot was fast asleep, he was startled when the man next to him spoke, "Isaac go to bed," He said sternly, clearly they'd not fully made up.
"Can't, not tired."
Dermot sighed, "are you in a huff because of what Colm said?"
Isaac thought carefully about his response, if he should get angry with Dermot for not speaking up, if he should start a rant about Colms wrong doing, if he should become philosophical and talk about their morals as humans.
He said none of this though, instead he said "Why didn't you say anything?" In a hurt squeaked -out tone, one he'd not meant.
Dermot turned onto his back, so him and Isaac were both inspecting the same sky, though, it felt like in their minds it was a whole different set of stars.
"Don't be like that, kid..."
Something in the teenage boy made him say something he shouldn't of, a test, maybe it was a lie in his youthful rebellion, maybe it was partly truthful,

"my real father would have said something."

Dermot whipped his around, Isaac fought to keep his gaze on the stars, Dermot was strikingly silent and they stayed like that. Out his peripheral, Isaac saw Dermots wide-eyed face switch between shock, disgust, hurt, anger, resentment, sadness, all negative emotion.

"Son- I- Ugh-" Dermot couldn't get the words out, he threw himself back over with a grunt and curled up like a wood-louse, not uttering another word. Infact, Isaac swore he heard some sniffling, he didn't say anything either.
Isaac sort of felt guilty, sort-of didn't, Dermot had him by his throat last week, if anything that was payback, those words probably hurt Dermot worst than a physical hand could ever hurt Isaacs. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ "Colm said what?" Keiran hissed, trying to keep a hushed tone.
"Yeah, after all I did too."
"What an ass, what. An. Ass." Keiran shook his head, "you gotta get out of there,"
"I'd love to, where should I go? I'm too old fer' an orphanage, cant just- leave, they'll hunt me down, can't go back to my old family so, I'm lost," Isaac hadn't realised he'd said what he had until Keiran turned to him, confused.
"Old family? What like, Nancy and... Dermots daughter? Can't think of 'er name," Keiran dug around in the can of pork with a fork, he'd brought three out on this fateful night, two for Isaac to take and one to share.
Isaac nabbed the fork and started to prod around the can for his own share, "Siobhan, n' yeah, those." That was close, he was getting too comfortable around Keiran.
"Maybe y'should go speak to them, they seem to like you enough." Keiran advised, staring off into the lake, holding out the can for Isaac to eat from.
In truth, Isaac had ate most of the can, it seemed Keiran could hear his stomach growling,
"myeah... I probably will," the boy spoke, mouth full, "N' Nancy will always have me, I'd move in if Colm n' Dermot would let me but lord forbid they lose another gun,"
"I hope you get out there Isaac," Keirans tone was hopeless despite his words, almost like the knowledge the kid would probably die with those boys weighed heavy on his shoulders.
"Yeah... Me too..." Isaac finished off his can and handed Keiran his fork back, "Thanks fer' this, same time next week?"
"Uh... Actually... Some boys were talkin' bout movin' some government officials found us or somethin' I also saw a news paper article but..."
"Couldn't read it?"
"Yeah..."
"Me neither, where you boys movin' too?"
"Dewberry creek... apparently..." Keiran seemed more confused than Isaac, "I don't really know where that is but, i guess come scope it out, don't get too close to camp like you were when we first met, I'll keep an eye out."
"You boys are goin' south? South of all places? Didn't think Dutch would do it," Isaac truely was taken aback, Van Der Lindes and O'Driscolls were the epitome of true western gang feuds, both of them were already far east, now south?
"Apparently, anyway, I better get back,"
"That Williamson missin' his plaything?" Isaac chided, watching as Keiran started to walk back.
"Haha, very funny." The ex-O'Driscoll said sarcastically, "I'll see you later, Isaac"
"Bye Keiran."
He watched his friend leave, trek back up the hill where the warm like erupted from a ledge. Even from down here, it felt so much cosier than the O'Driscolls camp. His father was there, asleep probably, or sitting by the campfire.
Isaac probably wasn't even a thought, he'd probably stopped being a thought ages ago, maybe if he was a thought he'd be a bad one. Here he was, gazing up at where his father was, from the dark depths, pathetically. If only he had that last ounce of strength to push himself through those bushes, into that camp, to meet eyes with his father once more.
That would remain a wishful dream though, as Isaac mounted his horse, petting her, and rode off back to Hanging Dog, hoping to make it back for sunrise.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After hours of wandering around in the uncomfortable, sweaty maze that was Lemoyne, Isaac finally found where the Van Der Lindes were holed up. He'd initially gone to Dewberry Creek, an old dried up creek that was now a big wet gorge in the middle of a valley, Midge wasn't happy about her hooves being covered in sand and salt water.
His arm was pretty much fixed by now, no longer had it's bandage on it even if it ached occasionally. His head, however, still ached in the heat and he'd occasionally get a hard dizzy spell and have to stop to gather himself.

It had taken alot more tracking and trekking through trees and tall grass, until he'd found flat iron lake, and followed it along the beach, stumbling apon their camp almost accidentally. He saw some boys hanging around the pier and quickly dove into the trees, telling Midge to flee.
Luckily, there was a small forest near them, thick with undergrowth, probably to hide them but it also hid Isaac, who was trying to find Keiran in the crowd.
Being too busy looking at the camp, silently watching as they lived their life, looking for Keiran...and maybe someone else.
There he was, pulling into the pier in a small boat with Dutch himself and another grey - haired man Isaac didn't really recognise at first, until he did, that was Uncle Hosea.
He remembered Hosea being sort of blonde, starting to grey, alot bigger and less lanky, clearly he'd age quite poorly. It made Isaac sad, remembering how when he was really young, Hosea would sit him on his knee and tell him about the trouble his father got up to when he was his age.
Oh how different things could be... Hosea could still be telling hin stories, Auntie Bessie could still be feeding him, Aunt Susan could still be sewing his clothes while they were still on his body. Even then, his mother stopped him visiting the camp when the gang started to get bigger, so the last time he'd seen them all was when he was tiny.
The boy didn't have much time to stare on when his reminiscing was interrupted by a,
"Whos there?"
In the bushes, a boy not much older than Isaac was holding a repeater, it was pointed and he was creeping through the bushes ready to shoot. Wearing a white shirt, red undershirt, with a dark complexion and a little facial hair that clearly hasn't fully developed into a beard yet.
Isaac bolted when he got to close, racing through the bushes, ignoring his body's objections under the humidity. Lemoyne really was hell.
He hopped onto Midge and kicked her into a run as fast as he could, galloping away.
They stopped when they got back to Dewberry Creek,
"Shit, I gotta stop doing that..."
The boy and his horse settled down, setting up camp for the night, Isaac probably would've made himself dinner if he had any, unfortunately that was Keirans job.
When the sun started to set properly, he headed off again, for that camp, stupid idea considering he'd already nearly been caught, but he was hungry.
Back over to the shore, following the water along, not quite dipping as far in as he did last time, watching through the treeline for any greasy black hair or mismatched close.
Eventually, he saw him, sprucing up a saddle, ofcourse he was now the Van Der Lindes stable boy.
"Pst, ppssstttt," No reaction, "Keiran! Keiran Duffy!" Isaac hissed from the bushes, trying not to alert anyone else, though most people were asleep it looked like. Keiran did eventually pop his head up, looking around confused, before locking eyes with Isaac, it almost seemed like Kieran didn't want Isaac there, why had he lied about Dewberry? They were in a completely different place, Isaacs mistrust for Keiran had never truely left, and was not heightened.
He rushed toward him, looking around frantically.
"Isaac! How did you make it here?" Keiran asked, in a hushed but angry tone.
"I tracked you from Dewberry! Did you lie, you tryna rid of me?" Isaac accused him.
"What? No! I really thought we were goin' to Dewberry, i guess the boys had a change of heart."
"Liar!"
"M' not!"
They sounded like two gusts of wind having an argument, hissing and whispering at eachother in such angry tones.
"Whatever, have you got food?"
"What? No, i don't, It's not my job to feed you, Isaac,"
"Yes it is!" Isaacs shoulders dropped, he really thought he'd found a friend to vent to, to do favours for him, but clearly Keiran wasn't up for it anymore, it disappointed him, hurt him again the same way he'd been hurt when he found out Keiran had betrayed them, "Then why I don't i just scream bloody murder? Let them know your conversing with an O'Driscoll!" Isaacs voice got a little louder.
"Don't you dare-"
The boy opened his mouth and took a deep breath, ready to risk his life in defiance. But Keiran quickly grabbed him and cupped his hand over his mouth, shushing him.
"Alright Alright! I'll get you your food, not tonight though...come tomorrow or somethin'"
"I'm supposed be back at Hangin' Dog for sunrise! I ain't trekking all the way back here!"
"Well, come next week then, there's no way I'll be able to go all the way back into camp, grab a few random tins, then leave again without looking suspicious! I'm not even allowed to leave camp in the first place, can you please speak to Nancy for now?"
Isaac went into a silent huff for a minute, Keiran was risking his life for him, he knew that, he'd care more if his stomach wasn't empty, "okay... But I'll be back, this time next week, this exact place. Nancy's gonna' ask questions if I turn up alone askin' for food often..."

…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷDisappointed, he made the ride back to Nancy and Siobhan's. Midge's head was starting to droop by now, they'd been riding for too long, too fast, and the Lemoyne heat had taken it's toll on both of them. He felt really guilty, but he needed food, Midge could survive off grass, hay and the odd apple. If Isaac crouched down and started eating the grass off the ground, they'd probably start giving him ice baths.
That familiar porch came into view past the hustle and bustle of town as everyone awoke and the stink of livestock even from the other side of town. He'd put his outer vest back on and tried his best to fix himself up, not back in the familiar territory of Valentine. Isaac doubted he'd ever get used to any town, but it was much better than anything in Lemoyne.
He dismounted Midge, letting her graze around the backside of the house after she'd rolled around, huffing and sighing. He made his way up the front stairs, knocking on the front door.
"Isaac?" Siobhan opened the door, in her night gown, looking very tired.
Isaac straightened up and cleared his throat, "Howdy Siobhan, listen I been out riding for uhm... 'few hours now n' I was wonderin' if you had a little to eat? For the journey back to the ranch I mean."
Siobhan squinted her eyes, looking him up and down, "Isaac it ain't even sun-up yet and you've been out for 'hours'?"
"Out- early...I was," he nodded, that wasn't true, he'd been out since early the day before and was supposed to be back for the crack of dawn, although he doubted he'd make it.
Siobhan rolled her eyes, "get in."
He quickly scurried in, shutting the door behind him, his stomach clearly realised how close to getting fed he was because it started to roar even louder and his mouth started to water.
"We have some stew leftover from last night," Siobhan made her way to the fireplace, where she reached grabbed a bowl from the mantle peice and passed Isaac a full bowl of stew and a spoon. He dug in immediately.
"Is...that not hot?"
Siobhan was clearly judging him, but the scalding of his tongue was nothing compared to the ache in his stomach, combined the two days he'd gone without food with the day he'd spent searching for Keiran in the heat only to be turned down, he was starving. He shrugs, barely looking up at her and continues scoffing his food.
She sits on the couch, he sits beside her, holding the bowl in one hand and shovelling the spoon in and out of it with the other, he knows he's eating like a pig, he doesn't care.
When he finished, he made a satisfied "ahh" sound and turned back to Siobhan, passing her the bowl and smiling, "so wheres Nancy?"
"Shes out workin', Early start to the day, clearly not as early as you." She eyed him again, an awkward silence fell between them.
Isaac wasn't used to this, usually the girl was easy to talk to, she was open minded and Isaac felt like she genuinely enjoyed hearing from him. The only problem was Nancy, she would definitely report back to her mother if she felt like anything was wrong.
"Isaac, why are you here?" The red-head didn't tear her green eyes off him.
"I uhm... Told ya' been out for a while."
"Yeah...y'have, but why, It's barely dawn?" She comes in closer, "y'know... we've noticed how skinny yer' gettin', we thought it could've just been you growin' up, loosin' baby fat but... Isaac whenever I see you eat it's like you haven't for days."
"Well I- I-" Shit. He was found out, how Nancy would worry about him, Dermot might get in trouble, then Dermot would be mad at him for telling anyone. "Well I ain't exactly getting entire meals but- y'know i get by n' stuff."
She tilted her head, "you promise? I know the 'gang' has been havin' some trouble recently, this...just temporary?"
She'd just given him the perfect excuse.
"Yeah!" He said a little too enthusiastically, "we're havin' trouble, we're all a little skinny right now, no harm."
"Mm... If you say so," she leans back, clearly not fully satisfied, but lets it go. " Well, Mama won't let you leave if she comes back n' your here, she's on a mornin' shift so she'll be back in a few hours, you want another bowl before you head?"
"Ooh, yes please,"
He ate his next bowl slower, Siobhan went upstairs and changed into day-clothes, came down stairs wearing a green dress, white shirt and a more muted-green dress to go ontop of it. Isaac was never the fashion sort, but he complemented her as she tried her long ginger curls up and she thanked her as she took yet another empty bowl off of him, putting it in the basin this time.
They caught up with eachother for a while, mostly Siobhan ranting about Nancy pestering her and her adventures in town, how she'd been picking up odd shifts helping ranchers with their chicken and egg yield or cleaning up the gun store. Siobhan and Nancy weren't well off but they got by, and Siobhan was more hard working than her usual easy-going demeanour would let off. If only Isaac could spill all his problems onto her, but he could never, would never weigh anyone he loved down like that or risk getting in trouble from Dermot again or even Colm.…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷAs he passed those familiar pillars that kept the 'Hanging Dog Ranch' sign up, he kept his head down, trying not to bring attention to the poor rabbit carcass he'd pathetically brought back. To he honest he was ashamed by it, he could do weigh better if he wanted.
He slid down from mid and dumped the rabbit on the butchers table for one of the other boys to mangle and call it 'dinner'. Sometimes Isaac could convince himself starving was better than the slop called food at camp, sometimes.
Of course, within seconds of him collapsing onto his bed roll, starting to prepare for his much-needed sleep, Dermot approached.
"You look like shit," the older man remarked.
"Thank you, kindly," he nipped back, his face smooshed into the blankets, him and Dermot weren't on great terms still, not after what he said, and not after what Dermot had done.
"Hmph," Dermot huffed and sits next to Isaac on his own bedroll, "whats been up wit'chu recently?"
"Tired."
"Tired?"
"Tired.
The Irishman gave up with a tut, not looking at Isaac, The boy was expecting a scold for staying out for a full day, being in bed so late into the morn, but it seems Dermots mind was on kther matters, "Colms been spouting about to plan to 'catch' one of the Van Der Lindes."
That got Isaacs attention, he sat up a little and turned to Dermot, they shared a disapproving, worried glance, "what? Who?"
"He doesn't know yet, he's thinkin' one of the 'old guard' Hosea Matthews, Arthur Morgan, maybe that bitch Grimshaw," it seemed like Dermot was getting lost in his own memories of those people, when the Van Der Lindes and O'Driscolls were allies of sort, Dermot was one of the few men that was still alive from that time, his face wasn't angry when reminiscing about them, it was almost melancholic, nostalgic.
Isaacs heart dropped when he heard those names, the guilt already eats him alive at the best of times if they actually hurt one of the Van Der Lindes, if they actually hurt his father- he wouldn't know what to do. It was crazy to think Dermot had possibly had a conversation with Arthur, maybe even when he was Isaacs age. Small world.
"Thats...that seems so stupid." Isaac said desperately.
"It is... it is so stupid," Dermot shook his head with a wry smile, pursing his lips and closing his eyes.
Isaac watched him, watched the hopelessness in his father-figures eyes, it made that little pang in his heart come back. As much as Dermot had been cruel to him, Isaac had been cruel back. They still had mutual weaknesses about them, they were both sheep, followers. They were both stuck up and prideful at times, stubborn. They were both prisoners of empty promises via Colm, Dermot had been chained down by those promises for more than two decades now, Isaac was chained by Dermot. He wouldn't survive out there on his own, he couldn't crawl back to Nancy and have to face Dermots disappointed gaze every time he came to visit. He just couldn't.
And so, after a few moments of silence, Isaac placed a fatigued hand on Dermots arm, despite his own worries.
"We'll be okay. Me n' you, Nancy n' Siobhan. We'll be alright," Isaac tried, he really did, but when Dermot didn't answer, even turned away from him a little more, Isaac pulled his arm back and turned over.
The boy faced Baby-Bodie again, It'd been weeks since he'd really even payed her any mind. At his age, he'd never admit it, but the mere sight of her gave him some comfort, reminded him of simpler times. The exhaustion, mixed with the peaceful gaze of his childhood toy eventually lulled him to sleep, the presence of Dermots own despair still pressing up against him.…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Against all better judgement, he went to visit that crazy old blonde man he'd met on the prairie, it was a fair while away. Unlike Lemoyne however, Isaac didn't mind traveling south-west, it was homely in an odd way, he could watch Bison roam and bucks bound around in the taller grass, wasn't too warm even though the sun shone a lovely golden colour, the air was fresh, crisp. The occasional person to ride by was always fairly nice, he couldn't complain much.
But when he rode into tall trees, it was a slightly different story. There was something about that place that sparked fear, he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Ofcourse, there was bears, wolves, but they were in big valley too, it wasn't that, even though he kept his gun on him incase. Midge could feel it too, the way her ears darted around and pinned back at every little noise. She even veered off road a few times, which was unusual, although expected considering they still didn't have a proper saddle, only a pathetic old bridal.When they passed Manzanita post Isaac knew he was on the right track. Some men were working on some carpentry stuff, dogs barked, chickens clucked and flapped around. He watched on, slightly comforted now that he had somewhere to run to if something happened, even after he'd passed it, he made sure to remember the way.Finally, he made it to a tiny, run down cabin off the side of the path, it wasn't much but there qas a little campfire outside and a flicker of orange coming from inside. Low and behold, that 'donkey' was grazing in hobbles a few feet away.He slid off of Midge when suddenly the world started to turn for a second. He leaned on her, and she craned her huge head to sniff at him as if to check he was okay. Once he'd shaken it off, he walked up to the cabin, taking a deep breath and preparing to knock when the door bust open.
There was farmer Irwin,
"Oh hey boy! Weren't expecting you to actually visit!" His eyes lit up, and he made his way over to the campfire, holding a tin of beans.
"Uh...hello, how are you?" Isaac tilted his head.
"Why I'm dandy!" The old man knelt beside the flame, pouring the beans into a pot just above the fire and started stirring them with an unsteady hand. Isaac was kind of expecting him to make small talk, or maybe he wanted him here for a task or a reason?
He went and settled beside him, on the ground infront of the fire, staring into the spark.
"You uh...need me...fer' anything?"
"Huh?"
"I mean- Why'd you invite me?"
The old man shurgged, stirring the bowl.
"Okay... Y-you live out here then? Thought you were a farmer?"
"I am a farmer, i live out here and in the Great Plains and just off of Blackwater, other places too but mainly in south West Elizabeth,"
Isaac tried to think, he just...lived everywhere? Did he camp? Did he have a heard he traveled with? "But...this is yer' house though?"
"No I have lots of properties...all over the place,"
Isaac huffed a laugh, the man didn't even have a shirt, how could he have multiple houses?
"No offense sir but...how? I mean you ride yer' mu- Donkey, you ain't got a shirt, it's cold in Tall Trees y'know- how am i supposed to believe you have multiple houses when you're jeans have more patches and rips than a moth could fill it's belly on?"
Irwin didn't answer at first, kept stirring his beans, until he finally spoke up, "My daddy was a big farmer, he made alot of money, then he died told me never to sell on the land, so I don't."
Ah...that makes a little more sense, a boy born into wealth and never taught how to work...or maybe didn't want to work, now have more money than he knows what to do with.
"So... You been alone since your daddy died?"
"Yes sir."
Okay, Isaac was starting to peice it together now, an oblivious rich kid turned simple by years alone out there. Irwin was old, it must have been many years alone. It made Isaac sad in a way, he hadn't invited the boy for a particular reason, maybe he just wanted a friend.
Isaac could be that friend.
"Thats hard...m' sorry."
After a few more moments of silence, Irwin finally took the pot off the stove and just set it on the ground, handing Isaac a spoon and keeping another for himself.
They shared that pot of beans, Isaac was grateful for a full tummy by the end of it, Irwin started yapping after not long. Isaac couldn't make out most of it, seamless gibbering jumping from topic to topic, but there was something fun about the carefree attitude of Irwin, even if it wasn't exactly natural. He listened, bobbing his head along to show he was listening, although Irwin didn't seem to bother whether he was listening, just happy to have someone to really talk to.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Weeks went by, he finally did meet up with Keiran and he gave Isaac some food, aswell as visiting Siobhan and Farmer Irwin - whom he'd grown fond of. In a short time, Isaac had gained some weight. He couldn't see his ribs and his cheekbones had started to fill out a little. The boy felt healthier, fuller, his belly rumbled less and his mood was slightly elevated. This was mirrored in his interactions with Dermot - which had gone uphill and somewhat back to normal.
All in all, the former week had been the best for a while. Full belly, high moods, good sleep.Until Dermot rode into camp while Isaac was brushing down Midge, he ran up to him with new-found energy he hadn't seen the old man with in years.
Quickly, the irishman grabbed the boy by his shoulders, spun him round and looked down at him grinning, "guess what,"Isaac was pretty dumbfounded, he barely saw Dermot smile genuinely. He smiled while making fun of Isaac, or laughed with the group of the boys while drunk, but not a true, genuine smile.
"W-what?"
"We got 'em." The old Irishman beamed. 
"Huh?"
"Morgan, We got him! Barely any trouble, can you believe it?"No. He couldn't believe it.
Every worst possible thought that through his head, what was going to happen? What was happening? While Isaac was calmly grooming his horse, what were they doing to his own father? Would they kill him? Would Isaac really run with the gang that would kill his father? His own blood?He'd gotten so caught up in his own affairs he'd completely forgotten Dermot had even told him about this- this plan. Dread, unimaginable dread coursed through him, suddenly the former week was not as upbeat as he'd been thinking, during his fun, his own gang had been plotting to kidnap his own father- and the worse part about it as his other father was excited about it, his heart was torn, be excited for Dermot - the man who'd cared for him for years now- or figure out what to do about his own father.Clearly, he'd not reacted how Dermot was expecting, "hey! Why are you just starin' at me boy? C'mon! Cheer or something this is it, this is our big break, the O'Driscolls are gonna make it." Dermot honestly sounded like he was talking more to himself than Isaac, assuring himself, but his boy answered him none the less."Yeah! Thats great Dermot! m'- I'm really glad!" Isaac smiled but the shake in his voice betrayed him.
Dermots own smile faltered, he seemed to evaluate Isaacs reaction for a few seconds before sliding his hands up from his shoulders to hold his face.
Oh the guilt. The guilt would eat him alive.
As Dermot stood there, cupping Isaacs face, he slouched down a little so he was eye level with him, "Listen, I know were not out the clear yet, I know but...yer' allowed to be happy, theres nothing wrong with havin' a bit of hope, son?" "I know," Isaac couldn't stop his voice from sounding a million miles away, his eyes unfocused, the sound of his heartbeat destroying the value of Dermots words- not that they were helpful, although Isaac was glad he was misjudging the situation. Isaac couldn't care less if the O'Driscolls disbanded, hell, he couldn't care less if they all died, he just wanted Dermot, Nancy, Siobhan, Keiran, Irwin, and his father to be safe, having all at once seemed an impossible task.Dermot lost his smile completely now, standing up straight again and putting his hands back on Isaacs shoulders, looking at him sympathetically, "if only I knew what was going on in that troubled head a'yours," he sighed, pulling Isaac into a quick hug.
When he pulled away, he looked over Isaac once more, pursing his lips with his shoulders drooping a little, before turning back to the crowd of O'Driscolls and waving his arms in the air in triumph, back to celebration. It all kind of blurred together for Isaac, the cheers of victory from drunken gang-mates. All the boys jumping a singing, a mood that was surely light for everyone else, a party. He'd never liked the party's the O'Driscoll's held, mostly because he was never invited in the festivities, never offered a drink, not food, not water, he was barely in this gang. After staring at the crowd for a few minutes, his mind started to replace the men with a bunch of ants, all following a leader, one leader, blindly, bumping into eachother, messy, the whole camp started to feel like a big mound of dirt and them the infestation. Resentment built up inside him. Resentment so powerful it pulled his feet to a chest over by one of the tents that had some clothes spilling out of it, everyone was by a fire not far from the entrance to the ranch. Still, he was conscious to be silent as he walked over to the chest, pulling out a green vest, long black jacket, and a balaclava, the O'Driscolls matching outfits were about to aid in Isaacs plan. He stuffed it into his satchel, aswell as a file and pistol, as he rode out on a Kentucky Saddler- not Midge, they'd know he was gone if it was Midge, and it would risk her safety. Although she whinnied and paced as she watched him leave. It probably belonged to one of the boys, they wouldn't miss it. There was a sinister silence in the landscape as he rode over to Lone Mule Stead, no birds chirping, no foxes barking or rodents squeaking, or maybe there was and Isaac was too lazer focused to notice it. His heart hadn't stopped racing since Dermot broke the news, his legs seemed to move subconsciously when they kicked the horse into a gallop, bounding toward south east of West Elizabeth. The sound of the wind in his ears and flies being squished against his arms and the saddlers face, helpless against the power of his horse. It would've been exhilarating if the cold light of the moon were to shine some light on his situation, grant him some luck, but alas the sky remained an infinite black void, matching the empty aura of the ground beneath it. When he finally arrived at the stead, it was guarded, heavily, but he knew his people. Half of them were probably intoxicated, some were probably half asleep or skiving off. Two men were baring guns just above the cellar - he'd been to Lone Mule a few times, the cellar was the perfect place to hide a captive. Sliding down from his horse and tying her to a tree,"Stay," it was a simple, firm command, he was usually softer with the horses, not that night. he quietly got changed in the wood. The feeling of the attire stung, it felt like rolling in fox shit, wearing that wicked green vest felt like sewing a rotten carcas to his shameful self.  He scoffed at it, wiping it off and pulling the balaclava over his head. It stank, of his own guilt or the man who wore it before him he couldn't decide. He slipped into the camp, straightening up and wandering back and forth around the front for a while, trying to blend in best he could. He didn't.He was terrified.Managing to pass the surrounding guards, some boys bickering infront of a tied up horse, another cleaning his gun, others taking out and gawking at a chest filled with different, shiny weapons. It was a cool night, pitch black, the moon did not cast it's usual silver glow over them, but the orange of the surrounding gas lamps were all Isaac needed. Puffing out his chest, Isaac used the bile in his throat to give himself a deeper, rumble-y voice and bent down to pull open the cellar.He was stopped by one of the guards, "what're you doin'?" He said, an american voice, they were usually alot looser with Colms orders, not clinging on to a false sense of brotherhood through heritage. Good. His eyes were glazed over as well, a big, yellowed beard, this man was no stranger to the bottle.  "Colm told me to go mess Dutch's boy up a little," Isaac didn't even know he had the capability to say that much."You?" The guard slurred. "Yes. Me." Isaac stood back up the look at him face on, trying his best to look big and scary. "Well why you got yer' mask on?""Colm told me to keep it on.""Why?" The whole interaction made Isaac doubt and doubt, want to run into the woods far far away, but he was too far along now."He don't want the prisoner to identify me."He was burned by the Guards stare for a second, not even recognising who it was. Colm picked up and picked off men as he pleases, Isaac couldn't tell the names of most the gang, but this man seemed fairly new, even if he was older. "Fine, don't be long though,"The guard opened up the cellar, allowing Isaac access. The world seemed to drown out around him again, he wasn't sure how that interaction actually worked, it didn't matter now, though, he was in. Taking slow, careful steps down those stairs, holding his breath, shaking, sweating, unable to prepare himself for what- who he's about to see.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Little cowboy boots pitter pattered down the stairs, picking up the pace as the front door creaked open, painting the floor with yellow sunlight.Still the little boy had to be careful, after a fall he'd taken down the stairs a month ago and hit his head, he wasn't to take chances. And so, he put one foot down, and secured the other next to it before taking another step, focusing on his own feet with the occasional glance up at the figure emerging in the door-way. Before he'd even reached that bottom step, he was scooped up, squealing in excitement as he was thrown into the air and easily caught by huge hands. His father never put him down, once he was finished throwing him around he secured him to his waist, still gently swaying side to side with a huge smile plastered to his face, asking about his day and if he'd been good, waving candies at him and holding him tight.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ As the flight of stares came to an end, he saw him. hanging upside down from the roof, but a few metres away was his father. Strung up like a deer in a butchers. He looked beaten and broken, a frayed red union suit, a cloth around his head to help the circulation, a hole, an actual hole in his shoulder, to which Isaac could see flesh and blood. His own flesh and blood. He scanned over him, over that scruffy brown beard, two shut black eyes, he knew it would be bad, not this bad. After a few moments, he pulled off the sack on his head, taking a few steps forward before collapsing to his knees infront of his father, hunching so he was at face level with him. Taking in his features up close again, aged, but the same none-the-less. Deeper crows feet than ever before, over-grown stubble missing that patch on his chin, thick furrowed eyebrows. His pa, right infront of him. Oh, he wished there was more he could do, cutting him down would only result in a rain of silver, not like his father could actually run. The only place they'd go together is a poorly dug grave.The boy pulled the file out his bag, looking up at the restraints holding Arthur, he wasn't even sure if he could even reach them, so instead, he left it on the desk next to him, so his father could reach it.For a second Isaac re-evaluated whether that would even be helpful, but he concluded it would. His father was an outlaw, he'd escaped countless jail cells with countless injuries and countless law and enemies giving chase. It was all he could do for now, so after he'd put that file on the desk, he sat beside Arthur, leaning his head on his upturned ribcage and staring off at the staircase infront of him. Realistically, he should've disappeared up those stairs as soon as he'd done what he came to do. "I-I hope that's helpful, sorry it's not much." His remark was met with his own echo.Being in this presence of his father again, even if he wasn't conscious, meant the world to Isaac. Years of being in the same state, being shot at, turned against him and yet never being able to so much as tap his shoulder.
"I'm sorry about... everything," Isaac felt himself talking without really thinking about it, "Maybe if I'd just stayed that night or...hid n' waited, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation, I'd be at camp with you and Uncle Hosea n' Dutch n' Aunt Susan, instead I'm here, talking to you while your bound up and- tch- look at me," Isaac through his hands around in the direction of his torso, "I'm an O'Driscoll, no less," Isaac continued to stare straight forward, not daring to look down at his fathers face, incase he may wake up and find out what his son was, if he didn't already know.
"I just- I don't know what to do, m'- worried that...that if I come get you, You and your boys will pull the trigger on me then and there or cast me out and I'll be well and truely alone, and the things I seen and heard about you in the papers...but that ain't the you i remember, it just ain't, The gang doesn't like me, One day I think you might attack us, see me in the crowd and... I don't know."
He managed to drag his gaze down to his fathers face, hoping to see him looking at him, with that same loving gaze he had all those years ago, hold him tight, tell him it was okay, that he forgave him. But He didn't, he was as lifeless as he was five minutes earlier, 
"I'm scared pa', I'm scared and I'm sorry," The boy continued to stare at Arthurs face, imagining him waking up, glad to see him, and they make their grand escape together and live happily ever after.
But he didn't, even if he did, it wouldn't be happily ever after, this is it. The life they lead, the life they were damned to. He didn't know how long he sat on that floor, curled up next to his unconscious father, leaning into him, taking in what little comfort there was to get from that. Until his better judgement kicked in, Colm could bust through those cellar doors any second, he shouldn't of stayed along as he had. So he stood up, wiped his eyes and gave Arthur one last glance before tearing his eyes off him and scaling those stairs again.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Arthur Morgans escape weighed heavy on the O’Driscolls, Dermot had been almost mute since it happened, many of the boys who were supposed to be guarding him were beat and scolded by Colm. Rumour had it one was shot. It had already been a few days since it happened but the boys were tense, scraps and quarrels were breaking out left right and centre, usually Dermot would break them up but he seemed to just watch on, hopeless. Isaac hadn't stopped shaking since it happened, he was hungry, not because there was no food, but because the guilt filled him up, he couldn't bring himself to touch food. He'd lie in bed at night shaking and couldn't breathe, guilt taking a physical effect or fear that everyone around him would realise and turn on him in a split second, he didn't know. That captive was this gangs last hope, whatever their plan was with him, Isaac had ruined it and was constantly surrounded by the outcome. He knew no peace, whatever he did someone would be displeased. That's just how it was, he could tell himself he'd saved his father, but in turn he'd shaken the man who'd raised him this past half-decade. He watched Dermot as he sat on a crate, staring off with lidded, empty eyes. He held a cigar in one hand, a bottle of Whiskey in the other, though Isaac was sure he hadn't taken in the smoke of that cigar in half an hour, just staring off into Big Valley. He had to go meet Keiran, against his better judgement he had to go see the fruits of his labour, that someone- anyone was helped. So he mounted Midge and rode out of Hanging Dog, slow and steady, not that anyone is camp would've looked at him, they were too busy wallowing in their own depression. It would probably never affect Isaac how it did the other O'Driscolls, they all cared so much, about the gang and their freedom and whatever shit Colm spews that week. He didn't belong with them, he knew that.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Keiran hurried over, meeting Isaac in that dense brush next to their camp. He didn't even greet him before pushing two cans of soup at him. "What happened?" "How'd you mean?" "You know what I mean!" It was true, Isaac knew exactly what he meant, but shame had its firm grip on him. "You mean wit' Arthur Morgan?" "Yes! How did he escape? I mean- I'm glad he escaped but...one man, horde of O'Driscolls..." Isaac hesitated, debating whether to tell him, tell him he'd betray his gang in such a way, ruined their only chance. Part of him debated telling him more. "I helped him," he said bluntly, not daring to meet Keirans gaze, he knew there'd be a flurry of questions to follow, most of them he couldn't even answer. Keiran tilted his head to try meet Isaacs eyes, raising his eyebrows and pausing for a moment, "You...why?" "Shit, Keiran," for a second he considered, considered telling him, spilling the secret he'd locked away out of fear he'd be shot, but the words never came, "I- I don't know," the boy threw his arms up and then buried his face in his hands. Keiran left the silence for a minute or so, maybe trying to prompt Isaac to elaborate, maybe trying to leave him to his thoughts, "well, I thank you, A-arthurs safe, well mostly, he's quite sick but the rest of the Van Der Lindes would've eaten me alive if Arthur was killed, they still might but not yet." The statement was followed by a half-hearted huff of laughter, clearly trying to get Isaac to reciprocate.  "He's sick?" Isaac parted his fingers so he could look at Keiran through them, the grip he had on his face distorted them, wide, desperate for some good news.Keiran was visibly taken aback by Isaacs desperation, leaned backwards a little and fought not to meet his distorted eyes, "Sepsis, from the wound in his shoulder, I dunno if you saw it when- uhm," Sepsis, sepsis. Well shit, maybe his attempt was futile, his father would die anyway, truely useless. He couldn't bare it, couldn't bare to hear how unbelievably stupid he was. "I gotta go Keiran," he quickly stood up, he couldn't bare to speak or hear anymore, he'd wanted good news, that he was healing but clearly there was nothing to hear. "Wh- hey!" Keiran tried to follow after him, but as Isaac mounted Midge he seemed to give up, "I- I guess I'll see you later then? You don't want any-" "Sure," Isaac said coldly, turning Midge and started to make his way out of woods at Clements Point. Through the trees he could get the limited view of their camp, and he could only just see the limp body of his father, in his red union suit, being spoon fed by what was once his aunt Susan. In his cot, in his tent, his big, weatherproof tent with all his belongings and storage in it. He stared on for a second, aware of Keirans presence behind him, before quickly shaking his head out of it, kicking Midge into a run and scramming out of there as fast as he could. Dermot was inconsolable, Arthur was septic, Colm was mad, not even Keiran was fully relieved of the consequences of Arthurs death yet. It truely couldn't get any worse and as the boy and his horse galloped back, her huge hooves stomping at the dirt of scarlet meadows, he found himself having to hold his breath and wipe his eyes.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Midges coat was filthy. Hard with dirt and debris that'd been wet and dry and wet and dry again, the worst part about it is that she was one of the horses in better condition.  All of the horses at Hanging Dog were matted and unkempt, due to Isaacs mind having been occupied by everything that was going on. Yet another thing to feel guilty for. He ran the hand brush over her coat, buffing out all the climbs of dirt, feeling her muscles jitter occasionally when he tugged at her coat. The sun was setting, warm beams heating up his back with the it's remaining energy but that familiar cool breeze of Big Valley still tickled his nose. Camp was quiet - not the peaceful quiet that meant everyone was asleep - a tense silence from men drowning in their own regrets, hopelessness. Some stupid boys were still wandering New Hanover, some even stupider ones had started to leak into Lemoyne, going wild in their desperation lime a bunch of wild dogs. According to Kieran, Arthur had made a full recovery. That was rare, a wild man with no medicine to recover from sepsis paired with all the other injuries Isaacs noble leader bestowed apon him. Colm O'driscoll, A man who deep down, was just as desperate as the sorry idiots he led on. Isaac hadn't seen siobhan for a week, more maybe, and certainly no Nancy. Dermot barely even looked at him, let alone met his eyes or speak a word to him. It was sad, a once lively gang, as disgustingly ignorant as they were, whittled down to the folks who'd kissed Colms ass the longest, although in a way, this was always a part of the deal, whether or not they had the choice to take it. He brushed out Miriam's mane and feathers, she almost looked like a show pony by the end of it, although to call her a pony would be hard, considering her astounding size, towered over him, he'd never forget her. Reckoned when he was old in his rocking chair he'd tell story's of his very first horse and how she towered over the rest, if he made it that far. "Good to see you tendin' to them horses," an Irish accent, not Dermot, younger, brasher, " thought ant Hills would start formin' on their backs if they got any dirtier,"Isaac turned to see Conor, he'd never really taken in his appearance or anything about him for that matter. All he knew was he was closest in age to Isaac out of all these buffoons and far too confident. He staggered around Isaac, his long back coat swaying behind him, holding his hat to his torso. Despite the bogus attitude, Conor wasn't there to ridicule Isaac. Isaac only nodded in acknowledgement,  gathering the old grooming equipment and moving onto the next horse, starting with picking hooves. It was a chestnut Morgan mare. Morgans were one of the few horse breeds he'd probably never willfully own. She was obedient though, well taught, lifted her leg when told, Isaac leaned in against her so that she could relax her weight onto him. Conor was still shuffling in the corner of his eye, awkward, " you uh... you know your way around horses," He ran his hand through his strawberry blonde hair, brown eyes looking between Isaac and the mare. Isaac wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement, so he nodded again, "I do," he moved to the horses front hooves, picking out little mounts of dirt that had started to solidify into rocks, wrapped in grass and leaves, her shoes were old, needed changed, unfortunately that was out of his control. "You worried?" Conor blurted out, a million miles from his usual cocksure demeanour.  "Worried?" Isaac repeated back to him, finally putting the horses hoof down to look at him. "Well first Morgan gets away, I-I was one of the boys on guard that night-" ah, so thats where his confidence went, "and yes, Colm did shoot one of the guys...if you were wonderin'... a-anyway, are you?"Isaac thought, Conor wasn't speaking down to him, he was similar ages with him and clearly, he was just a scared little boy, no different from Isaac, he had no reason to be defensive, "Yes, I am worried."Conor nodded, "it's just- just Colms done alot for me, I let him down- everyone let him down, I'm not...I'm not much without him."Oh god, That bastard had these boys in a chokehold, "Conor," Isaac was aware Conor was younger than the rest, but still older than him, "with all do respect, Colm don't give a shit, he preys on the vulnerable, ties them into a life they don't deserve," Conors brows were furrowed, his mouth slightly parted into a protest that never came. "Leave, most these boys, they don't have a purpose, reckon they don't have a year left, your confidence will drive you far, don't let Colm wring it out of you," Despite Isaac being lesser, he spoke to Conor in confidence, advising him. Conor wasn't put off, not offended, that told Isaac he wasn't as insecure as the rest, that his words were not empty. After a few moments, Conor dipped his head,  planted his hat back on it and smacked Isaacs shoulder, "you too I...Thank you." The boy walked away, leaving Isaac back to his horses, he watched him, hoping he really would head his warning, have a positive effect on someone - anyone.He groomed those horses until the moon was well into the sky, stars scattered along it. He loomed around, assured himself no one was watching and climbed up onto Midge, headed for Lemoyne.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ He arrived just outside 'shady belle', a once handsome manor deep in the swamp, was once lavish like the Braithwaites he imaged, now a run-down shithole of black mold and alligators left-overs, currently inhabited by the Van Der Lindes who were all gathered singing, drinking, whooping and hollering in a triumphant party. A world away from the O'Driscolls camp. He watched on, whoever was supposed to be taking watch was clearly absent, intoxicated maybe, so he watched on, jealousy sparked inside him.  He wanted that, he wanted a family. A family whether it was a wife and child or a happy group of degenerates on horseback. Acceptance and love, platonic, romantic and familial, in any form.  He watched them sway side to side, warm glow of the fire highlighting the carefree looks on their faces, even the toughest and scariest of them bobbing their heads and smiling along with the music, he couldn't distinctly make out Arthur in the crowd, but he stared on none the less, he listened. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ   
'as I walked out in the streets of Loredo,

As I walked out in Loredo one day,

I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white Linen,

Wrapped in white Linen as cold as the clay,
 
I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy,

These words he did say as he boldly walked by,

Come sit down beside me and here my sad story,

I'm shot in the breast and I know what must die,
 
It was once in the saddle I used to go dancing,

Once in the saddle I used to go gay,

First down to Rosie and then to the card house,

Got shot in the breast and now I must die, 
 
Get sixteen gamblers to carry my coffin,

Get six jolly cowboys to sing me a song,

Take me to the graveyard and let the sod o'er me,

For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong, 
 
Get six Jolly cowboys to carry my coffin,

Get six pretty maidens to sing me a song,

Take me to the valley and lay the sod o'er me,

For I'm a young cowboy  and know I've done wrong, 
 
Oh beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly,

Oh Play the Dead March as they carry me along,

Put bunches of roses all over my coffin,

Put the roses deaden the clods as they fall,
 
As I walked out in the streets of Laredo,

As I walked out Laredo one day,

I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen,

Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay...'
 Eliza's voice was soft and angelic as she sang down to her son, who's eyes were starting to flutter shut, she stroked her palm over his face, occasionally running her fingers through his hair, nothing but love in her eyes. "Ain't that song a little depressin' for bed time?" Her melody was interrupted by a gruff chide, "It's a classic, and Isaac likes it, don't you Darlin?'" She never took her eyes off him, Isaac nodded sleepily.Big cowboy boots clopped on the wooden floor, coming over to look down at Isaac, like looking down into his own reflection in a river, "you sleep good now, hear?" And Isaac nodded again.With one last smile, a goodnight from both of them, Eliza leaned over, pursed her lips infront of the gas lamp, and blew.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ "Isaac!" A low, harsh mutter from Kieran,  made Isaacs ear twitch, "what're you doin'? Standin'out in the open like this, get in the brush!" He did as he was told, turned and nudged Midge so she'd fade into the bushes, he dismounted and Keiran quickly grabbed his shoulders, "What the hell? Don't be s-standin' out in the open like that! You get us both killed," He threw a can of soup Isaacs way, "Food scarce since all operations became set on rescuing Jack," "Rescuin' Jack?""Kidnapped by some- Angeles Bronte and the Braithwaites or- somethin' or other, anyway he's back now,"  Kieran plopped himself down on a fallen tree, poking the soggy swamp mud with a skinny twig, he picked up. "So you guys partying?" Isaac leaned up on a tree next to him,"Party's started to die down now but...yeah," he huffed a little laugh, "yeah they even let me sing n' join in the festivities a little," "That's good, good to see there finally uh...""Yeah."An uncomfortable silence fell on them, welcome in a weird sort of way, although Isaac knew Keirans thoughts were miles away from his own, if only Kieran knew."Still don't understand why you saved Arthur..." A wordless prompt, any time they'd met up after the matter Keiran had asked, Isaac told him to shut up but he still wasn't taking the hint. "What'd I tell you-" "I know I know but at the end of the day you is an O'Driscoll, got no business or reason not to just- let 'em die,"There is was again, strong and angry, that feeling in him, like heartburn but deeper, like his insides were tangled in thorns, "now you listen I ain't- I ain't no O'driscoll, n-now don't call me that, not ever," Keiran had been the brunt of Isaacs outbursts many a'time, but never had he seemed as he was now, "wh- but y-" "No, no! Maybe I was once but- no! Not now, Now I'm just tryna get by, get out without- throwin' myself to the fuckin' coyotes," He snatched the twig from Kierans hang and launched it at the wall just outside Shady Belle, it broke and the tiny pieces bounced off the trees nearby. Kieran watched the scene, watched the boy bury his face in his hands, sigh a shuddering breath and pout, not quite sure what to say, "I- I mean yeah...shameful business," he offered "b-but your good, and you'll go on to do good, I know it, s-s'jus a rough patch is all." He dropped his hands from his face when he felt Kierans hand on his shoulder, "'preciate that, let's just hope I got a future,"Kieran suddenly batted his shoulder, affectionately but enough to get Isaacs attention,  "now don't you speak like that, You'll be fine," "Sure Kieran, sure," The younger patted the other man's leg, and stood up, "I gotta be back before midday tomorrow,  also don't wanna be caught in Lemoyne sun come mornin',""Well, thanks fer' comin, Isaac," "Go enjoy your party, Irish, I gotta get back to my sorry herd of drunkards,"Kieran smiled and shook his head, "See you later," and turned to walk back to camp."And Kieran," the older whipped his head back around, clearly not expecting Isaac to say anything else, "Thank you, I mean that,"Not another word was spoke between them, Isaac climbed up onto Miriam-Bridgett, gently kicked his horse into a peaceful trot, though it was hard in the swamps, with animals hooting and the cries of men, he wasn't sure how far away they were, wasn't sure he wanted to know.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ He made it back to Hanging Dog well before sun-high, exhausted. So he hitched Midge up, patted her neck, and a Bay Walkers that nudged up against him for some attention. Swam through a crowd of men passed out drunk, bickering, angry, although there was surprisingly little men at camp. Colm probably led them on some wild goose chase, he didn't care, he just needed to rest. So he lay down, wriggling out his waistcoat and his shirt, leaving him in his vest and settled into bed, shutting his eyes after a big yawn. "Isaac." He hadn't even realised Dermot was beside him and had practically fallen asleep when he was frightened by his voice, "y-yes Dermot?" He heard Dermot turn so he was looking upward, they both were, looking up at the stars in the sky, like they were star gazing together, "every so often...you sneak out for hours and hours and hours...leave early night...return late mornin'."Isaac gulped, turned his head to see Dermots lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, if he wasn't talking, Isaac could've been convinced he was a dead body. He knew his own mouth was parted, breathing heavily, trying his hardest to force an face that didn't spill all his secrets. "Where you been sneakin' off too, Isaac?" The irishman spat it out like snake venom through gritted teeth, eyes lazer-focused on the stars like if he turned to Isaac now he'd simply leap for him. his own saliva shooting up from his mouth and coming back on him."I- n-no where, Dermot," "You better cut out the fuckin' lies boy," Dermot turned to look at Isaac, his face scrunched up in nothing but pure disgust, "you been meetin Kieran," he seethed.  "No- no well I have been but-" Isaac fumbled over his words, he couldn't believe this was happening. "So you admit it! You admit you've been conspiring?""Conspiring? ain't like that!" "Then what is it like?" When Isaac couldn't answer, only offer Dermot a desperate,  pleading look, he pinched his nose bridge and looked away, "you've broken my heart, all the boys think you helped Morgan escape," his green eyes darted back to him, matching the pleading look, wishing for Isaac to say otherwise. No, nonono, this wasn't just Dermot that knew, that meant everyone knew. He was currently in a lions den of men who knew he was a dirty traitor and a part from that, he'd let down Dermot, well he'd been letting down Dermot for months but now he had to face the consequences. "I-I'm sorry Dermot," was all Isaac could choke out, while in the back of his mind thinking what he could possibly do to live now, there was no way Dermot would shelter him now, did Colm even know? Oh god...did Colm know? "Yeah...I'm sorry too." "What- what do you-" Suddenly, a bag was put over Isaacs head and he felt hands all over him, grabbing him by the shoulders and hoisting him up. They grabbed his hands when he tried to flail and tied them before his back."Ey! Get- Get the fuck off me! Get off me! Dermot, Dermot help!" He screeched, still trying to flail as he was tied up and carried through camp, not able to see his surroundings, only smelling campfire smoke and the musk and alcohol off the man carrying him, feeling the bag on his head heat up with his own breath, the restraints on his wrists cutting into him, "Dermot!" He kept squawking and yelling even as he was thrown on the back of the horse, winded but still, he screamed for Dermot, even as the horse was kicked into a gallop, the 'hyahs' and angry grumbles of men as he felt the landscape soar by him."Let me go! Lemme go! Dermot! I swear...I swear I won't speak a word to anyone, just let me go just let me die our on the plains please please, I swear I swear I swear, let me go, please please please I'm beggin'" He felt his voice start to crack as his heart rate spiked, O'Driscolls were violent to anyone, never mind a dirty traitor, he imagined them beheading him, skinning him alive, castration, filleted, whipped, stabbed, pulverised, scalped, burned, the worst kinds of torture until he died in the most painful way possible. "Shut up boy," A sharp pain on his temple, knocking his head to the side and suddenly what little senses he had left were clouded, ears ringing, blues and purples clouded his blacked out vision until he lost consciousness, going limp on the horses rump.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Isaac panicked when he first open his eyes to be met with more blackness, somehow began to panic even more when he remembered who's horse back he was currently folded over onto. All he could hear was the babbling of men, the rustling of the fabric over his head against his ears and the sound of hooves thumping on the ground, all layered ontop of his own quickening heart beat. The ropes cut into his wrists even more ans the air felt warmer, more uncomfortable, he'd be sweating if he didn't feel the cool night air on his exposed skin, He started to struggle more, grunting until he felt a spur his the side of his head, causing his already unbearable headache to worsen and some blood to drip down his cheek. "Quit strugglin', you'll get what's comin," a sinister twist to the end of his sentence made the hair stand up on Isaacs back."L-let me go mister, I won't tell nun', I'll give you money, j-jus-""He ain't lettin' you go son, just lie still and quiet." Dermot, Dermots voice. Dermot was riding beside the horse that had him tied up like a hog on a townies' Christmas feast. Tears threatened to fall, but he sucked them back in with a sniff and did as he was told, for what little respect he had left for Dermot."The sickening repetition of the horses gate made him nauseous,  occasionally trying to lift his head and shimmy so he could breathe better and stop all the blood from running to his head, though it didn't take long for his stomach muscles to give in and he would go limp again, flopping around on the horses flanks pathetically. The low chatter of some unrecognisable voices became closer and closer, for a second Isaac thought they were reaching a town, maybe he could've rolled off and cried for help, but instead the horse came to a stop and he felt rough hands drag him off, throwing him over a man's shoulder. His stomach and lower ribs ached from being hauled around but he breathed a sigh of relief when he was thrown on the ground. His back was planted against a tree stump and one of its roots jabbed into Isaacs asscheek, another thrum of pain to add to what was already there and yet to come. He sharply inhaled the fresh air when the bag was ripped off his head, a temporary relief when he opened his eyes to see sharp green eyes apon wrinkled, mottled skin and greasy grey locks searing into his own. Colm. Colm violently grabbed Isaacs face in one hand, digging his thumb nail into his left cheek and four finger nails into the right. The baby chub the teen still had bunched up and made his mouth purse and his lower eye lids squeeze upward. Colm had a wild look to him, crazed by the threat of law and Van der Lindes and whatever self inflicted issue the dictator loaded himself with, all ready to shoot at Isaac. This was his chance, his death date, probably,  but his chance. Colm turned on him, Dermot gave up on him, his father hadn't come look for him, what did he have to loose? The fearful face of a lost child started to melt off of Isaac, and peeled into a grit-toothed snarl, spitting onto Colms face. The old man's lip curled like an angry hound, hydrophobic and blood thirsty as he wiped the spit off and smacked Isaac across the face, full-force. The boy yelped as the pain reddened his skin, but he turned back to Colm defiantly and yet again, his face was grabbed, nails once again digging in, now ripping at the hand print on his face. "You like conspiring boy? You been talking to Van Der Lindes? Hm?" Colm hissed, his pupils were small and his forehead had a sheen of sweat that showed the adrenaline pumping through him. The sheer primitive hatred in his gaze scared Isaac more than the horde of O'Driscolls behind him. It took all his courage to maintain their eye-contact, "no sir, no conspiring, just a friend," Isaac confirmed, tired but informatively. Colm shook his head, biting his lip and smiling maniacally, finally, he tore away from the boy, and began to circle, stalking and haunting his next kill, "No...no son...no 'friends' are Van Der Lindes '" he guffawed like Isaac was just a silly little boy who got mixed up, Which he was. It was then when Isaac followed Colms footsteps, exhausted eyes drooping. They landed on another man, confined to a tree, same as him. Fighting to focus his eyes, he was met with Kierans defeated eyes, hunched over and already more beaten than Isaac was, he'd been here for a while. "Now, Isaac Macbrian, what do you think happens to... traitors such as ya-self," Colm bend down again, folding his arms behind his back. That name. That wasn't his name. It wasn't now and it never was. He only confirmed that when looking around to see Dermots blank stare, not even flashing Isaac a hint of sympathy or apology. He truely had nothing to loose. When the boy drew his eyes off Dermot, he didn't lift his head to meet Colms eyes again, only moved his pupils slowly, a challenging glint in his eye, the O'Driscoll could only see through messy brown strands, "My names Isaac Hosea Morgan, Mister, n' I ain't afraid of the likes of you," Colms face dropped, but not into any sort of fear or realisation, to a smile, and then a belly-laugh that practically shook the camp, throwing his head back,  "morgan? morgan? as in... The man you freed?" When Isaac didn't answer he laughed some more, "well that makes sense...what are you his cousin or his nephew or what? His child bride?" That ear splitting laugh, chilling in it's own way. "He's m'father," "So your tellin' me, I've had a Morgan in my ranks for years n' i ain't been none the wiser? What are you a- a plant? An outcast looking for some failed revenge against yer' daddy? How come he ain't come to get you yet?" It was humiliating how Colm laughed in his face. Out his peripheral he saw Dermots shoulders drop, bringing his hand across his mouth in a pained sigh, before walking away, shaking his head. Kieran looked confused, but too beaten to challenge it. Isaac didn't answer, simply looked at the dew-wet grass. "Aw...he' not want you anymore?" He leant in close to the boy, whispering in his ear in a mocking sort of consolation, "we'll find out when we dangle you infront of him tomorrow, huh? Hah!" "C-colm sir," one if the many men behind Colm spoke up, "how do we actually know he's not bluffin'" Colm stood up straight, taking a second to look around the crowd, his crowd, and threw up his arms in a shrug, "well I don't..." He wandered around with his arms up like that for a few more seconds, a facade of ignorance, "but is it worth a try? Worth a try for freedom, we got him anyway;-" he motioned to Kieran, "he's just a little bonus," The boys all looked between eachother, and slowly started nodding in agreement with eachother, then back to Colm. "Now... let's just have us some fun!"  Isaac tensed, ready for hands on him, preparing for his punishment. Instead, all the voices turned to Kieran and when he opened his eyes he saw him being untied and bent over a log. "Hey- hey- what're you doin-" he started to question out of worry, looking around at anyone to answer his question, but once again was met with Colms haunting grin. The older reached down, put his arm around Isaac and sat beside him, like they were about to enjoy a drink together. He pressed up against the boy, so their cheeks were together and forced Isaac to look as Kieran was positioned on the log with his torso laid flat against it. "Pretty ain't it, watching worms squirm as they get whats coming to them..." The O'Driscolls all started fighting over an Axe, as Kieran started to breathe heavier, wriggling against the rope, every time he tried to tilt his head up it was smacked back down. "Repulsive cowards, facing the Consequences of their actions..."Eventually, one big man won the axe and everyone else stopped fighting back. "Colm- Colm please don't do this, we're pathetic, we're weak, we're sorry, we'll leave," Isaac begged, realisation of what was happening setting in. The crowd started to cheer as the man walked over to Kieran, Isaac saw Kierans hands clutch and his eyebrows knit together in pure fear. Colm pressed further onto him, pinning him against the tree watching with him. "No! Please don't! Please!" Isaac writhed in attempt to get away, futile. All Isaac could focus on was the blunt axe blade that was swung up into the air, far above the mans head. "Don't! Kieran! Please!" The blade went down, a horrific crack and a splatter of blood, then a small thud. Kierans head was on the grass now, his neck still on the log. Isaac felt hot tears stream down his face. "I'm - I'm sorry" There was surprisingly little blood, He couldn't rip his eyes off the scene, Kierans spine and trachea now exposed and leaking, the skin was ripped and torn, muscles and fat exposed to the cold night air. The only thing that tore through it was the force rather than the sharpness of the blade, meaning the gaping whole in his neck had strings of flesh peeling away from it. The rest of him, although, bruised and bleeding, looked alive, like if you'd saw him from around the corner you would only wonder why he was bent over a tree stump like so."Bit late for that now, Son," Colm pet Isaacs head and stood up, "hey, spruce up that body a bit for our display, make him all Perty, and this one," he looked back at Isaac, "have your fun, have your fun - you all deserve it, but keep him alive, we need this one warm," Their leader didn't even finish the sentence before the pack started to circle him, eyes practically glowing in the dark, approaching. It all started to blur out when the punches started, punch after punch. Then they brought out knuckle dusters, which cut into his cheek and ribcage, the restraints on his wrists came off, but were met with belt whips, the drag of knives, metal poles and branding irons. It all faded, all he thought about was Kieran, it was his fault. Yet another innocent, suffered and died because Isaac was such a fucking idiot.Colm was right, he was getting what was coming, and when he felt the blunt force of a knuckle duster to the back of his head, he finally let go.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ His whole body ached, burned, stung, an unimaginable amount of pain. He groaned and tried to rub his eyes, one to be met with the painfully tight lasso around his wrists again. He hurt everywhere, in all different places, inside and out. Made sense, some of the dirty old men at camp would take anything warm.If only he had a gun, he'd blow his own head off and end his misery, right there. If only his father would see him, maybe euthanize him himself. In some fantasy land, he's out hunting with his father, his big warm hands on his shoulders and gently, skillfully, guiding him, whispering words of praise about his aim and his steady hand. His hand would probably never be steady again, after the injuries of that night. And Kieran, oh Kieran, his only friend, the one who knew, knew too much about Isaac, was closer to his father than he was. A gentle, generous hand, tired eyes, a boy who fell in with the wrong bunch which resulted in his own painful demise. Isaac was in that bunch. This was Isaacs fault. Isaac tried to crack his eyes open, surprisingly, he managed. Though, they were swollen mostly shut from the punches. Slowly, his pupils wandered around, looking for the stump Kierans body was slumped over, they kept falling back shut, but he'd pry them open and make them work to find his friend. When his eyes finally focused on it, the stump was empty, blood splattered, some of Kierans remains, but not Kieran. If Isaac made it out of this, he'd remember Kieran for his kindness and not the bloodied corpse he'd last seen him as. Although, he was pretty sure he'd see Kieran soon enough. He felt his head fold back onto the tree, drool was falling from his swollen lip but he didn't care. Could've sworn he was inches from death, his body finally giving up when he heard a voice. "They really messed you up, huh, son?" Irish. A grumble...That piece of shit. "I ain't your son, you unlovable piece of shit..." Isaac wanted to say more, but a cough tore through him that caused his diaphragm to widen and his battered and likely cracked ribs to strain and pull, lighting his torso up with pain and a fit that ended in a whine. "Shut up Isaac, you brought this on yourself," Dermots words were cold, almost like a warning.After a long silence of Isaacs wheezing breaths, he groaned as he pulled his head up and peeled his eyes open to look at him, an attempt at a furrowed brow. When he finally saw Dermot, he was expecting a cold stare, which he was met with, but there was something else there. "Apon myself? Another wheeze, "you weren't feedin' me, you weren't- you... I did what I had to to- to survive, to live, looked after myself when no one else did... when you didn't." "You knew, you knew what the rules were, you knew how Colm was," Dermot shook his head, not daring take his eyes off Isaac. "Stop fucking staring at me...sto...stop it, go play with your friends and get on with your m-miserable life, get ou-outa mine," "Don't, don't take that tone because I tried with you, I did, I fought in your corner,""You fought in your own corner? you wanted boys for your gang, you were blessed with the burden of a child and your pride wouldn't dare see you get rid of him." "That's not true," those words seemed to shake Dermot, his voice showing it, "You know thats not true, you mean so much to be, boy, it hurts," "Funny way you show it," Dermot didn't reply, just inhaled only enough for Isaac to hear and continued looking him over. "Is Arthur Morgan really your father?" He finally choked out. When it was Isaacs turn not to answer, Dermot asked his next question,"Why didn't you tell me?" "Because you were the lead, you were in charge, right behind- Colm-, I did- n't ask for this... didn't ask for you or a gun or to be in this gang o-of degenerates, I'm stuck between a feud started before I was born and it's cost me everything I know," Isaac flopped his head back again, gritting his teeth, his words were more of a plea to the above then scolding Dermot, a pathetic beg from a pathetic little boy who should've never of been born, "I js' want m' mama."Silence fell on them again, before Isaac herd what he thought was a huff of laughter, he pulled his head back down to see that it was the furthest thing from laughter, Dermot had his face buried in one of his hands, the other flopped over his knee and he was crying. crying. his back jolted with the weight of his sobs and his whitening ginger hair was folding over his face. "Hey... why are you crying? Stop it," Dermot didn't stop, didn't even react. "Stop." Dermot never listened, but in the coming minutes he did spring up, bearing a knife. For a second Isaac thought he was about to experience his mercy kill, it never came, instead the irishman took him in a half-hug, and cut off the restraints whilst doing so. He pulled back and let his hands brush the sides of Isaacs face briefly before standing again, pulling Isaac with him. When the boy groaned loudly in pain, Dermot cooed him like a baby, like his own baby, and began to practically carry him far into the tree line. Isaacs legs weren't moving, Dermot wasn't quite strong enough to carry him over his shoulder or bridal-style anyway, so just dragged him along, all whilst his boy whined and protested in pain, almost passing out again. It wasn't until Midge appeared, Isaac figured out what was happening. She was all dressed up, in Dermots tack, brown with swirles of gold and a gorgeous bridle that Isaac had always admired from afar. She bore a saddle bag that was very clearly packed full, so full it looked like the button would pop. This was planned, Dermot had arranged this. "Y-your savin' me?" Isaac huffed, turning to Dermot. Dermot never answered, just made sure Midges saddle was tightened and swung the reigns over the back of her head, before heaving Isaac up onto his horse, manually swinging the young boys legs around as he continued to grunt and groan in agony and look at him in confusion.  Now, he stared up at him, like that first night they'd met, how beaten up Isaac was, how beaten up he was now, how he'd knelt infront of him and cleaned the cuts on his knees as his big, weary eyes stared at him in fear. Dermot was less frail back then, his pale ginger hair was a sharper tone of red and he'd had more time to be with Isaac, who now stared down at him in a sort of hesitant distain. Isaac was utterly dishevelled, wounded, bits of clothes torn off, hair pulled out, bleeding from every limb, purple and blue. There he was, the little boy he'd spent the past five years with on the brink of death due to the hands of his own gang. "Well- y-you getter get on quick," Isaac rasped, still sounding unsure. Dermot had to take a second, spun so he was facing away from the steed and bit his own fist, sniffling a cry and running his hands through his hair before he abruptly spun back around, and put his hand on Isaacs knee. "Listen son, I know I've not been the best, I'm sorry, I'm so-so sorry," Isaac seemed confused and was glancing back at the camp to see if anyone had caught on to him being missing, despite barely being able to hold himself up on Midge. "We'll - talk about this later, get on old man." Dermot didn't listen, instead he traced his hands across the horses neck, patting her gently, "s'a good horse, she'll take you far, Miriam-Bridgett is a beautiful name too." "Dermot, get, on." Suddenly, an outraged cry from the camp. They'd noticed. He kept his hand on Isaacs knee, thinking back to how small he was, how he'd gotten to take all his love out on another child when Nancy wouldn't let him see Siobhan, how he'd ruffled his hair when he done well. All the things he'd whispered into his ear to give him pride in being an O'Driscoll, how he thought those were words of encouragement but, actually, they were frightening him. "I love you, son, even when I found out about Kieran, even when you'd sneak off late at night, even if I knew you hated me in that moment, I've loved you since Colm shoved you onto me those years ago, Your the son I never bore...n' - now you gotta go far, far away, leave the states, run, do you understand?" In the treeline Isaac could see the rustling of leaves and branches, a horde of them was approaching, on foot, not even bothering to mount horses before stampeding through the woods to get their bloodthirsty hands on Isaac. "W-we ain't got time for this! Get on!" "Do you understand?" It was a gruff demand."Yes! Now-" Isaac was cut off my Dermot jumping up and embracing his bruised shoulders, which was agony, but it was a proper hug, and Isaacs arm instinctively wrapped around to hug him back. The warmth of the hug was nearly enough to make him forgive Dermot, and when he pulled away he was met with an equally warm smile and a nod. "Good luck to you, son, don't forget what I said," with that, Dermot smacked Midges rump and she took off, without him.Isaac desperately tried to pull back on the reigns, but his arms were weak and the damn horse just would not listen. "Dermot! Dermot!"When the boy managed to crane his aching body backwards, he saw Dermot stand with his arms out as the entire horde bounded towards him, he directed them all in a random direction. Some of them ran that way, but one who saw Isaac gallop off, aimed his gun toward Dermot and pulled the trigger. "Shit! No!" All Isaac could do was try and pull the reigns, yank and shout and pray Midge would. just. Stop. She didn't. She kept going with all her might, crushing anything beneath her huge hooves, no matter how much Isaac cursed and squealed, she barely reacted. All the yanking on the reigns and the crys that made his sore throat ache even more, completely drained him, and he collapsed onto Midges neck. Still conscious, unable to do anything, his body going limp with exhaustion and his eyes fighting to shut as he mumbled protests through weak tears. …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ "What're you doin' pa?" The little cowboy climbed up onto the couch, leaning into his fathers under arm as he adjusted his arm to sit around him, so he could comfortably keep writing in his book with the fancy leather cover, "I'm writing." "Like a story?" The boy looked up, his father smiled and shook his head. "No... it's a journal," "So what do you write in it?" "Write about m'self, stuff thats happened to me, my feelings," "That sounds boring," It was then he noticed his father tilting the journal away from him, not that he could read cursive yet, "It is, very boring, thats why you shouldn't read it.""Well...whats happened?" He couldn't help but be curious as to what his father got up to when they weren't together, because they were very rarely together, and when they were together his father acted like they were always together and there was nothing in between. The adult man sighed, fully closing the book and putting it down beside him on the old couch "yer pa ' got into a fight, a bad fight, with some bad men," "Oh?" "Mhm, O'Driscolls, terrible people, who do awful things," his father nodded, looking straight off into nothing "and you know why they do it?" "Why?" "Because all the people around them do it, they join the gang and they wanna make something of themselves, so when one person does something bad, another one does something worse so he looks better than the last guy, n' sometimes they do it to eachother to get back on one and another, and everyone gets more and more bitter until everyone looses. " "Thats not good," "No it's not, so never be like that, never be like them, understand?" The little boy nodded, taking in the valuable lesson from his wise old father. "Good boy, now, lets go, i got errands to run,"They walked off into the town together, the 'errands' must have been in the saloon.   …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

By the time Isaac came to, The horde was no where to be found, his ears filled with the sound of running water and crickets chirping. He opened his eyes to the big wooden sign infront of strawberry. Midge was grazing with Isaac still on her back, flopped over her, awkwardly having scoot down in his unconsciousness. Isaacs head darted up and he looked around before grappling his neck and doubling over in pain when it ached. Groaning, he pulled his own leg over, and hopped onto the ground. Literally, as his right leg had been rendered useless.He limped around for a second, taking in his surroundings, alot more awake than he had been the last time he saw Dermot. Dermot, oh Dermot. He was probably cold in the ground now, all because that damn horse didn't stop.That damn horse. "You." When he looked back at Midge, she had perked her head up and grunted, ears flicking around. "You! You didn't stop!"  He limped towards her as assertively as he could, "I told you to stop!" When she tried to nudge her face into his neck, as she often did, he wrestled her away with what little strength she had. "It's your fault! It's your fault he's dead! I told you to stop, I told you!" A frantic, blind rage fueled by grief directed at the animal. She only whinnied and shuffled on her feet and Isaac waved his arms about, not able to lift them above his head."Get lost! Go! I mean it! Don't want you no more!" Still she didn't listen, only squealed and continued to shift from hoof to hoof while avoiding his flailing hands. "I said-" He reeled his arm back, "get lost," he thrust his fist forward towards her nose, but she jolted her head upward and dodged. The force of the attempted hit forced his aching body forward and off-balanced, causing him twist awkwardly and fall onto the wet, dew-covered grass. He lay on his back, his arms out-stretched at his sides staring up at the stars. It was a clear night, he'd even call it gorgeous if the events that transpired that same night hadn't. His back was slowly getting wet against the grass, he could hear chirping and squeaking of whatever scurried in the grass around him. Isaac closed his eyes, hoped that he would wake up in his stupid uncomfortable bedroll with Bodie watching him sleep, staying awake until Dermot got back from whatever job he was on and annoyed Isaac about chores. Now, he was alone. No Kieran. No Dermot, there was no way he'd ride all the way to Lemoyne, to his father in this state, probably shoot him like a dog, too. Nancy and Siobhan would never look at him the same when he told them what happened to Dermot. He was sure he started to decompose and melt into the grass when something soft started flicking against his cheek. He opened his eyes, met with Midges snout. She looked down at him with her ears perked up, her long eyelashes flickering atop her big dark irises. "Shit..." What was he doing, she was all he had, and he was throwing punches at her, and she still was not leaving.  Sighing, he wrapped his arm around her neck and she lifted her head, dragging him back up to his feet. His legs shook, still injured, still bleeding in some places, "I'm sorry, girl..."He kept his arms around her, feeling her patchy, half-shed coat, the fur getting stuck in the blood near his nose when he rested his head against her. He thought, thought about running all the way to Lemoyne, although he wasn't even sure he'd make it. Where else would he go? Dermot told him to go far, how far? Finally, it came to him, the crazy blonde man in the woods. "I got an idea, girl."  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ  As he neared the run down old cabin just off of Manzanita post, exhausted from the journey, paranoid from the events, he felt an unusual sense of relief wash over him when there was a soft yellow glow coming from inside. By now, the dark sky was lightening with the rising sun, silhouetting the structure like a holy temple lit by some unknown god. He all but fell off of Midge, stabling himself on her neck before stumbling toward the door. Instead of knocking he accidentally slammed himself against it when he fell. It probably sounded alot more intimidating from the inside than it looked on the outside, because Farmer Irwin emerged, pitchfork poised and ready to strike. It was like Isaac was the unsuspecting fish and Irwin the spearman. When the older man realised who it was stood infront of him, the bloody, beaten shell of a boy he'd met for supper a few times now, he lowered his weapon to look him over. "Dear lord, boy, what happened?" He stood in shock for a second, not meeting Isaacs eyes but instead scanning over his broken body. "The gang I run with," Isaac had to take a breath to sturdy himself, if he didn't sit down soon he'd collapse again, "things went south, let's say..." "Jesus... Get in, get in," Irwin ushered Isaac in and sat him down on a chair. The cabin was a mess, but it was warm, the fire was on and he could smell some sort of meat cooking. Isaac rested his head against the nearby desk, no longer able to support the weight of it. Farmer Irwin was approaching with an onslaught of wet cloths and bandages, the most sincerely worried Isaac had ever seen the old'yun. "'think you could take your vest off, son?" The blonde man tilted his head, big blue eyes glinting in the fires glow. Isaac pulled his vest off with his eyes closed, practically falling asleep as he did it, but he finally did manage to wriggle it off, to which Farmer Irwins expression softened even more into sympathy, especially when he whined in pain from his ribs, "Now, a man gotta be downright evil to do this to a boy," he muttered as he started to dab some of the cuts in Isaac's collar bone. The boy grunted and jerked at the touch, whether from real pain or the only physical touch he'd experienced the past twenty-four hours being torturous. Nonetheless he let Irwin continue, hanging his head low and barely staying awake.Although he was pulled awake by Irwin patting his face, "hey boy, you alive?" "Hmph...barely..." Isaac grunted. "This is bad, real bad, think I'm gonna take you to the doctor in Strawber-" "Not Strawberry!" Isaac panicked at the thought of getting anywhere closer to them, the O'Driscoll's patrolled Valentine and Strawberry constantly, he'd be beaten senseless...again. He hadn't even noticed he'd jolted forward until Irwins hand was on his shoulder pushing him back onto the uncomfy wooden chair, "woah, woah... Okay, no Strawberry, Blackwater then, that okay?" "O-okay... You got doctor money?" "Don't you worry about that, son, I told you I'm fine for money, it's you I'm worried for," he looked him up and down again, "poor kid, those bastards really shook you, huh?"Isaac never responded, just closed his eyes and sighed. Irwin continued working his way down Isaacs torso, cleaning what wounds he could and occasionally prodding at a bruise - only to grimace when Isaac had a particularly loud reaction to a very prominent feeling rib. Finally, he finished up, only having to wrap up one of Isaac's forearms that was still bleeding, the rest of his cuts and wounds had began closing. "Hey," Irwin toddled over to the other side of the cabin, rummaging through a random box that was sat next to the fireplace and pulling out a cotton union suit, "this should be nice n' warm, I'll turn around, you able to get it on yourself?" Isaac nodded, hesitantly, and began to change when Irwin turned around, he only stepped into it, barely managing to bend down and pull the suit up to his waist when he gave up and summoned Irwin over to help him get it over his shoulders. When they'd finally buttoned it up, Irwin pulled a cot Isaac didn't even notice was there closer to the fireplace. He practically carried Isaac onto it and lay him down, giving him one more quick check up and folding a blanket over him. Isaac felt calloused hands check his forehead for a fever but after that he faded away, a slumber broken by disembodied cries of Kieran and others he loved, the mourning of Siobhan and Nancy, the disappointed gaze of his father, all occasionally interrupted by Farmer Irwin checking his temperature or waking him up to make him drink water. Despite the warm atmosphere and the comfiest bed he'd slept in since a boy, it was quite possibly the most painful sleep of his life.   …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ   "He's got three cracked ribs, a broken left leg, open wound on his right forearm and right lateral, covered in countless puncture wounds, he'd had tens and tens of stitches, what on earth happened to this boy?" "If I knew I'd tell you, but he's been too out of it to say anything, Doctor."Farmer Irwin had put on a nice shirt for the doctors office, Isaac had only managed to put pants over his union suit before giving up. Irwin drove Midge to Blackwater, the doctor looked outraged as soon as he'd laid eyes on him, obviously assuming the worst of Irwin. He quickly came to his senses when he found that Isaac hadn't seen Irwin for ages, Irwin could've saved himself the bother and turned Isaac around at the door step but he didn't. He'd stayed awake all night to make sure Isaac was okay. Isaac wasn't quite lucid enough to show his appreciation yet. "He's not my son, He's barely spoke two words to me since he turned up at my door, I know it was a group of grown men, that's about it," The doctor shook his head and sighed, "well it's a hefty bill, especially with the morphine," "Don't matter about the bill, just want the boy to be okay." Isaac only just listened to their exchange, Irwin handing the doctor a healthy wad of cash before helping Isaac to his feet, handing him the crutch the doctor just sold them and guiding him toward Midge again. The streets of Blackwater were dusty, making him cough and then moan when the cough shook his ribs, although the pain had let up since the morphine kicked in. "You'll make it yet son, lets get you back home for some rest hm?" And Irwin kicked Midge into a trot.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Even high off the morphine, Isaac noticed how Irwin was a little too rough with Midge, older men were always rough with their horses- or mules... Or donkeys... whatever, he didn't like it, didn't quite have the strength to speak up when he pulled on the reigns a little too sudden or spurred a little too hard. When they got back to the cabin, Isaac found it hard to walk even with the crutches, Irwin saw this and was behind him every step, making sure he didn't fall. The splint the doctor put on his leg was a little irritating. Irwin sparked the fire up again and started opening cans of soup, pouring it into the pot as the fire grew. By then, the morphine was wearing off and Isaac's forearm itched and his ribs ached. He tried to sit on the edge of his cot but quickly gave up and laid down properly, staring at all the cobwebs and cracks of the roof. "You gonna tell me what happened?" Irwin asked, putting some more coal into the fire and poking the logs with another stick he'd clearly used for that very thing many a times. "Fucked around and found out, I suppose," Isaac hummed. "Oh?" He was subtly prompting Isaac to keep talking. "Was talking to a gang enemy, but he had been helpin' me," he paused as he thought of Kieran, turning away just incase he teared up when talking about Dermot, "My mentor found out...things had been rocky anyway and... Well, my mentor and the 'enemy' are both dead," "Then your gang went all crazy?" Irwin asked, Isaac didn't answer, "Your gang the O'Driscolls?" "Not 'my gang', don't call them that, and yes." Irwin nodded, "they're a mean bunch." Silence fell on them, Isaac could hear the wooden spoon hitting off the sides of the pot and the fire crackling, saw the sun setting through the trees out the window,  smelled of whatever soup Irwin was making, "Think I gotta run." "Huh?" "Run, I gotta," he looked over at the food, "My 'mentor' told me I had to," "He's right, the O'Driscolls are a big militia." "Mm, I don't know where, would east grizzlies be far enough?" "Probably not." Isaac knew what was coming, he just didn't want to admit it."Mexico would probably be your best option," Irwin said softly. He didn't want to leave his country, he'd truely be throwing out all chance of meeting his father, no Irwin, no Nancy or Siobhan, even more alone than he had been for years. He brought his hands up to his eyes and covered them, just wanting it to stop for a few seconds. "It's not all bad, clean plate, do something honest, I'll hire a boat so you can take your horse," "Where the hell do you even get all your money from?" "I told you before did I not? My daddy left me a whole bunch of money, reckon he had a vision of me settling down with a fine woman and having some fifteen kids or something, he owned random farms and steads all over west Elizabeth, somewhat of a buisness man," Irwin explained. "So what? You just... Don't use 'em?" "I never wanted to be a farmer, I'm  simple, the way I always was, some of the squatters pay me sometimes but... Guess I don't mind, I buy food, kill some turkeys, I get by fine, I don't need all the money," "Seriously? You just don't care?" Isaac was dumbfounded, it explained alot, but he was still dumbfounded. "Not really, some of the 'squatters' even turned the land into a fine little stead, some of them I sold, but now-a-days you gotta talk to the banker people for that stuff, can't be bothered," "Shit... Okay, so you got money from all that?" "That and my daddy left me his own fortune." Isaac smiled at that, "so you live off daddy's money, Farmer Irwin?" Irwin smiled back, "suppose I do," It almost made Isaac forget his horrible time, his injuries, his family, still not quite enough, his smile faded soon after the bit. "Anyway, I'll pay for a boat for you, I don't really know how to change dollars for the uh... Whatever the Mexicans use," Irwin explained. "S'fine, I'll figure it out," …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ  After two weeks, alot of Isaacs physical injuries had started to heal up pretty well. Although every bush was an O'Driscoll ready to ambush him, every corner had a gun around the other side, every tree was the stump they severed Kierans head on. He couldn't deny that night had not left him, some days he could go and help gather kindling for Irwin, other days the sight of the open front door unnerved him. Still, he did what he could, he kept the cabin clean when Irwin would go hunting, and by 'hunting' it was always turkey or fish, Isaac eventually gathered that Irwin could only really hunt those two things. He wasn't ungrateful though, he thanked Irwin at every chance, he'd started making them supper with his very limited knowledge on cooking. He'd started to convince himself that maybe he could just forget about Mexico, maybe he didn't need to bother, until Irwin bust through the door as Isaac was falling asleep on the chair infront of the fire, "I saw O'Driscolls in the saloon in Blackwater, then a few more on the road back." Isaac felt his blood run cold, and every bruise on his body start to hurt again, memories of that night flooded back, the mix of punches, kicks, scratches, burns,  all sorts of green fabric surrounding him, engulfing him. "I reckon you leave tomorrow or the next day, I don't like how close they're getting, I'll remove all evidence of you being here and take myself away too," Irwin sounded more like he was talking to himself than Isaac, making a battle plan in his head.  It occured to him that Isaac knew the wrath of the O'Driscolls, he knew what they could do and what they couldn't do, his fear was sure. Irwin didn't know, he didn't know what they'd do to him, and for the first time Irwin looked a little more scared of the O'Driscolls than he was worried for Isaac. He understood.  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ Isaac was packing his stuff up, had everything laid out on the table, all things that Irwin had lended him. His gaze landed on the saddle bag he'd yet to open, the one Dermot left him with. He assumed it was just all his old clothes and practical things but he hadn't found the courage to look inside yet. Slowly, he reached out for it, picking it up and gripping it abnormally tight. He ran his thumbs over the felt, as if feeling Dermots finger prints, his presence. As he slowly opened it, the first thing he saw was the golden glint of a gun barrel. There it was, Dermots gold revolver. Isaac gentle pulled it out to look over it. It had been cleaned before put in the bag, evident by how shiny it was, the initials 'D.M' were engraved in fancy cursive writing along the barrel, the handle had gorgeous floral spirals along it. He knew how much Dermot loved it, how much care he took of it. He'd told stories about how it was the first thing he'd bought himself in America that cost more than five dollars, how he'd saved up for it for weeks, how Colm helped him, how he'd die with it in his hand. But he didn't, It was in Isaacs hands, it was Isaacs now. Those initials didn't mean anything. Slowly, he set it down and turned back to the bag. The next thing made him have to put the bag down entirely and look away to compose himself. Baby Bodie was crammed in there, her tufts of woolen hair all tangled and sticking out from between clothes. He took her out, brushing his hands through her mane for a second, trying to neaten it up. He felt his eyes grow wet, but he wasn't completely torn apart, a little pang of happiness deep inside made him feel warm. He had these memories, these keep sakes, the O'Driscolls may have taken his dignity, his livelihood, Dermot, Kieran but they didn't take his kinder memories of them, Dermots stupid sense of humour and how he'd take the piss out of Isaac at any given moment, the memories of his father tucking him in at night. He had these, these hadn't been taken. The rest really was just clothes, pretty much his whole small wardrobe bar the green waistcoat, which he couldn't say he missed. "You good?" Irwin's voice sounded from behind him. He looked at all his belongings, the extra food Irwin was giving him, Bodie, the gun, carrots for Midge, clothes, bedroll, tent canvas and pegs, spare cash. "Yeah, m' good," Isaac wiped his eyes. "Good, I have a better way to get to Mexico, we won't need a boat, Theres a bridge called 'Butter Bridge', closes constantly for repairs but it's open now, just gotta watch out for the train when your crossin'." "Sounds great,"Irwin agreed, "ready to go?" Isaac took a breath, almost, "yeah, but theres somethin' I gotta do first."  …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ He felt his skin crawl as he rode through Strawberry, glancing back at every stranger and horse he passed by. The sun was only rising, it was early, too early for drunken O'Driscolls to be prowling, early enough for the sheriff to be up. He tried his hardest to confidently strut up to the sheriffs front door, it was more of a lopsided stumble but he didn't need his crutch anymore. Or maybe he did, he wouldn't admit it either way. When he finally got there, he paused to look back at Irwin and Midge, when Irwin gave him a little nod of encouragement he pushed the door open. Immediately as he walked in, Vernon Farleys head shot up, looking a little offended at first, "what'd you want, kid?" "I got info, good info," The boy slammed both his hands on the table to loom over Farley. The sheriff didn't seem phased, confused, maybe a little impressed? "What?" "Info, on Colm O'Driscoll." "Like hell you do, run along boy, that ain't funny," "I do, I used to be one of 'em," He knew it was a poor choice of words when Vernon stood up straight, hand hovering over his pistol. Isaac backed up a few steps. Clearly The O'Driscolls had shaken up this feller. "This a trap? They ain't on shift but they houses are dotted around town-' "I ain't with them no more, mister, I swear it, they messed me up bad, look at my face," Isaac circled his own face with his palm, showing Vernon the half-healed bruises and cuts. Vernon seemed to get it, he settled back down after, still looking skeptical as he checked out the window for any suspicious activity, he turned back to Isaac, urging him to continue. After a long breath, Isaac spilled, spilled every secret, every hideout, every ambush, every battle plan, every reminisce of helpful information that could possibly lead the sheriff to the O'Driscoll's. his hand shook as he pointed to places on the map Vernon laid out on the desk. By the time he was finished, his leg was really starting to ache from standing at the desk. "Well I'll be, there's good money for you if this information proves useful, n' he'll probably be trialed in Saint Denis, those big fancy courts." "I'm leaving, I'm starting a new life.""We'll you'll need the money," Suddenly Mr Farleys tone changed, "but I swear if this leads to some trap, kills off half my men? A bounty will be put on your head, don't care where you are, Or if your just a boy, got it?" "Got it," Isaac confirmed. "Now you go where you' going, where should I send it if the money comes in?" He got up and put his hand on Isaacs back, slowly guiding him to the door as he walked."Uh... you know that little cabin, west on manzanita, near the river? Tenners..." "Tanners reach?" "Yeah, there,  my 'associate' will sort it out," Vernon opened the door and watched Isaac walk down the stairs, back toward Irwin who was stood beside his mule. He looked up when the door opened and half-smile at Isaac.  The sheriff raised his hand 'goodbye' and shut the door. "You ready?" Irwin asked. Isaac looked around the trees, the houses of Strawberry, the birds and the stones, the sun that was well into the sky. He took a deep breathe, taking in the fresh morning air, "M'ready."   …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ