Chapter Text
John Marston was still curious; curious to as why Javier looked the way he did that night. Why he looked like he was about to burst into flames of tears. John wasn't very smart, but he tried to be. And he sat there at the campfire, eyes darting at Javier; lip puckered as he concentrated— almost like Ms. Grimshaw's face
He watched as Javier ate. Scooping Mr. Pearsons sour food inside his mouth, chewing on the deer meat that the older man made into it. He watched as Javier's face scrunched in disgust— like he always did whenever he ate Pearsons food. He watched the other boy, leaving his food cold as he pondered all the ways Javier could've been sad. Maybe it was just one of those days where you're sad for no reason; John thought. Or maybe his favorite shirt got torn. That happened to John once, and he was pretty sad. But not the way Javier was sad.
"John." Javier yelled, snapping John out of his thoughts. "What the hell are you staring at idiota."
John blankly stared at Javier, his face turned red in embarrassment. He cleared his throat with his closed hand over his mouth. The bowl of cold stew was tossed to the side; an embarrassed John walking away and into his tent.
Once again, his face scrunched as the gears in his head began to turn. He slumped on his cot, hand over his mouth. "God.." he muttered. "It so hard to think!" He yelled, kicking his feet like a toddler.
A voice entered the tent. Javier stumbled in with a confused look spread on his face. "Think about what? You're acting weird amigo."
John shook his head, staring at the roof of the tent. "Nothing." He stated, trying his hardest to think.
Javier shrugged, taking his place on his own cot— which was very different from Johns. All nice and clean, no stains. While Johns were covered in god knows what, he was too lazy to take it to Ms. Grimshaw for a good cleaning. He pulled out a small book, one he had been reading for a while; John noticed.
Maybe he could get Javier to tell him instead of trying to guess. He needed to wait for the right moment though, or else Javier probably wouldn't pry. Suddenly, he got an idea. To finally do something Arthur had been asking him for days to do— but he was too lazy. Or just didn't care.
"Wanna go fishing?"
•••
Javier had weirdly accepted John offer to fishing— and it seemed like he was enjoying himself. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he sat there, staring out at the shining water.
John stared him down, gazing at his soft features. How his eyelashes fluttered down, almost like an angel. His jawline sharp; making John force himself to not just lightly graze it. He was utterly perfect, and John could describe him in so many words. Some words that weren't even in the human vocabulary.
"You're staring again John." Javier muttered, once again drawing circles into the dirt while his other hand gripped onto the fishing pole.
"I'm just wondering," John said after a bit. A flush rose to his cheeks as Javier looked back at him, the moon making its appearance in his eyes.
"About what?" The other boy responded.
John bit the inside of his cheek, looking back out at the water instead of Javier's eyes. "Last night," he started. "What was wrong?"
Javier let out a hum. "I knew you would ask about that." He shifted, reeling in his fishing line— it wasn't like he was getting any bites. "I was just, thinking about some things.."
"What?"John quickly asked, his curiosity had peaked.
"My mamá." He mumbled, placing his fishing pole beside him. He went back to the state he was in the night before, fumbling around in the dirt with a frown carved on his face. The aura had shifted; it felt more saddening, like he was yearning for something.
"Oh." Was all John could say. John didn't want to think it, but his mom was probably dead. With the way Javier had been introduced, it seemed like he was an orphan. Like John.
"Yeah." His breath hitched. "She uh, died. Before I ran off." He let out a shuddering breath, digging into the dirt with his nails.
"I'm sorry." John said.
"Don't be. She's not dead because of you."
John finally met Javier's eyes; welding up in tears as he talked. John felt a pain stab him in the heart, urging at him to comfort the boy in front of him. He reached out, grazing his thumb over Javier's hand.
"But, that's not all." Javier said. "She gave me a guitar, before she passed. It was hers, and my abuela's. Passed on for generations." His eyes twinkled at the words, finally having a crooked smile on his lips.
"That's cool." John replied, nodding his head.
"Yeah well," he demeanor changed, his face twisted. "esos estúpidos, pequeños gatitos bounty hunters."
John cocked an eyebrow, not understanding Javier's Spanish talk. He watched has Javier breathed in, trying to collect himself. His face twisted back to a calm one, but his aura didn't change.
"When I was arrested by the bounty hunters up in strawberry, they took it. Kept it in their little... closet or whatever. I never got it back. Even when I was let go—" he stopped. His face twisted again, as he held back the choke of sobs that were about to spill from his lips. Javier didn't cry, but when he did he sobbed.
John slinked an arm around Javier’s shoulder, leaning into a hug. In response, Javier buried his face into the other boys shoulder as his arms held at Johns back. He took a handful of Johns shirt as he began to silently cry.
That guitar meant everything to Javier. And it hit him last night that he was probably never going to get it back. After he was let go, he still held onto the hope that one day he would get it back. But now he knows, it’s too big of a dream for poor Javier to hold.
•••
John was in another series of thoughts. He had a plan, a big plan. He had his lantern in hand, scribbling down what he could into his notebook. He bit his lips in thought, tapping his face with the tip of the pencil. Every other thought was drowned out, only focusing on the task at hand: how to get Javier’s guitar back.
He knew where Strawberry was, and he knew how to ride a horse. He also knew how to shoot, so no biggie. At least, that’s what John thought.
“apaga la linterna... vete a la cama bicho raro..” Javier’s voice slurred out, as he shifted in his cot. John slightly gazed at him, before turning off his lantern. His plan was officially done.
After a few minutes, and John checking to make sure everyone was asleep, he got on his horse. The night still shone out, the stars more evident than it was earlier. It was beautiful, John wishes he could look forever. His horse made a small snort noise, digging her hooves into the dirt covered ground. John softly grazed her, hushing her with a small sugar cube. He took a deep breath in, before staring his fairly small journey into Strawberry.
John knew it was a stupid idea— an idea that would probably get him killed, but he didn’t care. He hated seeing Javier so broken down, and he swore curse onto the shameful bounty hunters who were too far up in their egos to treat other people with respect. That’s what he hated about the law; they never treated people with respect. Some people didn’t deserve respect, yes, but the majority of the people who get arrested are petty thieves who only steal for their family.
The ride was relaxing. He wasn’t rushed, like any of the other times he rode his horse, or riding away from the law. He was just riding, enjoying the moon that gracefully shone down on the earth. The leaves on the trees danced along with the wind, following a sleek rhythm that John absolutely could look at for hours. Soon enough, he saw lights. A big wooden sign at the front planted the words ‘STRAWBERRY’ on top. John face twisted into a smile, driving his horse inside the town.
He spotted the jail, which wasn’t too hard to find since it was there right when you walk in. He hitched his horse at a nearby post, quietly walking towards the building; making sure his steps were quieter than a mouse.
He pressed his chest against the back of the jail, stepping on his tippy toes to look inside the window. He noticed the lawman snoozing at the desk; a hat over his eyes while his feet were propped up on a desk. Someone was in the jail cell, staring bleakly at the roof. John pondered if the guy was dead.
Arthur had taught John how to break a window without breaking it. More so popping it out of its place on the wall. John pressed his fingers up on the corners of the window, pushing inwards. The window slowly moved, before it slipped out in a rush. Luckily John caught it, hanging off the now open space in the wall.
He climbed in, carefully placing the window back in its spot; a stupid thing to do that John would rightfully regret. He watched as the prisoner stood up, looking at John with pleading eyes. He ignored him though, if he let him out things would just be worse.
He saw the closet Javier mentioned. Dirty and covered in mud, for some reason. He tip toed over to it, slowly opening it so it didn’t make a noise. It still did though, making John jolt his head in the direction of the lawman. He didn’t move an inch.
The boy moved some things around in the closet, looking for his prized possession. Finally; he found it. He quickly held a grip on it, pulling it out with a small thud. He still didn’t wake up. John scanned the guitar, it was wooden and very pretty. Although it was covered in mud, john could still see the carvings on the back.
Elena Adela
-
Valentina Escuella
-
Javier Escuella
He smiled, his finger felt the carvings. He felt as to why Javier was so close to this thing. It showed a small generation, and maybe it’ll be a piece Javier will pass down to his kids.
He quickly stood up, closing the closet. He took another look at the prisoner, who held a grip onto the bars. ‘Please’ he mouthed, John ignored him again, making his way back to the window.
“Intruder! Someone’s in here!” A voice called out, making the lawman jolt out of his seat. Shit.
Mindlessly, John punched a whole into the window. The glass cutting his already jagged hands, making the boy wince and wonder why he even put it back. The lawman blew his whistle while John climbed out, a few glass pieces sticking to his skin. He hurriedly made his way back to his horse, watching as lawman spotted him.
He galloped away, silently praying that neither him or his horse would die. His grip on the guitar became lighter, as he heard the lawman’s voices fade away. He let out a breath he was unknowingly holding in.
His horse was spooked, on the other hand. Also very worn out after endlessly running for a few minutes. So John dismounted, petting his horses neck.
“Why don’t we set up a small camp, yeah? I need to get these glass pieces out anyways.” He softly said, hoping his horse would somewhat understand.
•••
John ended up falling asleep at the small camp he set up. Javier’s guitar was wrapped in a small blanket John held onto— and stowed onto his horse for safe keeping. He was proud of himself, while also exhausted. But all that was replaced with anxiety as he realize that it was the middle of the day, and and he wasn’t at camp. He cursed to himself as he quickly rode back to camp, not before being jumped off his horse after she saw a snake. Fucking horse; he cursed in his mind.
When he was back at camp, everyone was gone. Nobody in site. God damnit. What the fuck had happen? Did something happen in the few hours that he was gone? Jesus Christ. Did the O’Driscols attack? Was there a fire? What if—
“John!” A voice yelled out. Javier.
John dismounted his horse, rushing to the boy that stood angrily at the front. His eyebrows were furrowed in a way that made John shiver.
“Where the hell were you idiota! I wake up, and your pequeño maldito culo isn’t here!” He yelled, shoving a finger into John chest.
John held his hands up, still bloodied from the glass cuts. That alone made Javier’s face soften, quickly cupping Johns hands as he inspected the wounds. Johns face flushed.
“Uh, listen. I know you might be mad at me for putting myself in danger,” he started, pulling his hands away from Javier. “But, I got ya something.”
Javier’s face twisted again. “Ah fucking idiota! si fuiste hasta allí, te lastimaste, solo para darme algo, en realidad voy a joder…” Javier’s rambling was cut off whenever John placed the blanket wrapped guitar in his hands. Javier looked up at John, mouth agape.
“John..” he muttered. He began to unravel the blanket, blankly staring at the guitar that sat in his hands. He turned it over, inspecting the carvings on it. His hand fluttered over his mouth, choking out a sob as he grasped John into a hug. Crying ten times more than he did last night.
“Dios mío, no puedes hablar en serio.” He sobbed, clutching onto John. Johns arms made its way around Javier’s back, giving into the hug Javier forced him in. “Thank you so much.” He stifled, letting out a shuddered breath.
John planted a small kiss on his head mindlessly. “Always.” He responded.
“John Marston!” A raspy voice yelled out, snapping the two away from each other.
“Ah shit,” John groaned.