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Late into the night, Micah approaches Dutch’s tent. With most of the gang asleep, he walks right up to the tent without being spotted, not that Micah would care if they did see him. Still, Micah checks over his shoulder before rapping his knuckles against the tent pole.
The lantern illuminating Dutch’s tent shows he is still awake, and Micah watches the silhouette raise its head. “What?”
“It’s me, Boss,” Micah says. “Can I come in?”
Part of Micah expects to be told to go away; with Dutch in such a paranoid mental state, he is liable to push Micah away, despite Micah being the only person in this gang who doesn’t doubt him. And after Dutch’s spectacular breakdown this afternoon (he was pacing and screaming, voice cracking as he called Morgan and Marston ‘snakes’ for doing things behind his back), Micah knows Dutch’s temper is frayed, irritable and constantly a second from snapping.
So it genuinely surprises Micah when Dutch sighs and says, “Yes.”
Micah smirks, but smooths the expression from his face before he opens the tent flaps. He enters Dutch’s tent, finding Dutch sat on the edge of his bed, hunched forwards. Twisting his rings around his fingers, Dutch’s head snaps up to stare at him, bags of exhaustion beneath his manic eyes.
“What?” he mutters, so incredibly suspicious of everyone.
Closing the tent flap, Micah steps closer. “You doin’ okay, Dutch?”
Dutch scoffs, his words tumbling past his lips as he says, “Don’t ask stupid questions, Micah. Why the hell would I be okay? It’s not like Arthur and John are talkin’ about me and doin’ stuff behind my back and have no goddamn faith in me despite everythin’ I’ve done for them. They’re gonna betray me. They probably already have. I bet they’ve snuck outta camp right now to go talk to Milton and turn me in like the goddamn snakes they—”
Sitting down beside Dutch, Micah cuts off his frantic ramblings with a kiss. Unlike most of their kisses, he keeps it gentle and soft, silencing Dutch’s delusions with his lips. Dutch kisses him back, grabbing Micah’s wrist, his nails digging into Micah’s skin. Micah slips his free arm around Dutch’s back, tugging him into an embrace.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to manipulate Dutch, with his leader seeing through Micah’s hollow words. But at times like this, Micah doesn’t need to do a thing; when he gets all delusional and anxious, Dutch’s own mind works against him, convincing Dutch of things that have never happened. And Micah isn’t complaining.
Breaking the kiss, Micah trails his lips across Dutch’s face, ending with a kiss to Dutch’s ear. “I’ll never betray you, Dutch,” he whispers, lips brushing against Dutch’s ear. “I promise.”
Dutch shivers in his arms, leaning his head against Micah’s shoulder. “Micah… you’re the only one I can trust.”
Micah grins, glad Dutch can’t see his face.
If only Dutch knew Micah spoke with Milton just hours ago.
Kissing Dutch’s hair, he mumbles, “Thanks, Boss.”