Chapter Text
The sun started to cast over the land sprinkled in green flakes of grass. The strokes of orange, pink, and yellow showed it glow on anything it could hit. It was peaceful, since almost everyone was asleep. Birds chirped though—but it wasn't loud enough to wake anybody up.
Little John Marston stood over one of the buckets they had; filled with semi-dirty water due to the others using it. He splashed his face a few times, before stretching out his arms.
It was weirdly quiet—usually at this time Dutch would be walking around helping with a few chores. Arthur would follow along too. But today it was just Arthur, chopping some fire wood by one of the huge oak trees they had at camp.
John sighed, trudging his way towards Arthur. Thoughts swirling in his mind with what question he would ask first; is something going on? Where's Dutch? Is someone dead?
Arthur let out a grunt as he split apart the final firewood piece. He turned his head, swatting the pecks of sweat that formed on his forehead. Not even looking, he noticed John.
"What do you need Marston?" He bluntly questioned, gathering the chopped pieces of wood.
John raised an eyebrow, wondering how the hell Arthur could see him without even looking, but he just shook it off as he spoke up. "Where's Dutch? It's seems so quiet here." He muttered, leaning against the tree.
Arthur stood up from where he was bent over. "I don' think 'm supposed to tell you," He said, walking towards the camp fire that was slowly dying out.
Marston followed him, an annoyed look on his face. "Why not? Is someone dead?"
Arthur grumbled. "Oh Jesus, no! Fucking Idiot. If someone were dead, we would all be awake. Hosea 'still sleeping in his tent."
John mouthed an 'oh', looking the other way, he felt idiotic alright. "Well was' going on then?"
Arthur shook his head. "Ah, whatever." He groaned to himself, throwing the firewood into the small flames of smoke. The fire grew larger, a smirk tugging at Arthur's face. He continued on; "Dutch was talking about gettin' some kid from the bounty hunters."
"What? Who?" John asked.
Arthur sighed. "You think I know? He's your age. That's all I know."
John nodded, urging to get more information from Arthur. It would be difficult—due to the older man's stubbornness. "Did Dutch say anything else about him?"
"John Marston, if you don' get your ass back to bed I will throw you in the river again." He yelled, gesturing towards John's tent.
John grumbled. "I'm jus' curious!" He crossed his arms like a five year old wanting candy; cheeks puffed out with his eyebrows scrunched together.
The sounds of hooves clanking on the ground made the two boys turn away from their bickering, staring at the entrance; where the sound was coming from. Dutch was riding in on his horse, will a small boy sitting on the back. John and Arthur jogged up to Dutch, both curious to see their new member.
Dutch hopped off his horse, hitching it by a nearby hitching post before helping the boy down. The boy looked about the same age as John, but much shorter. His clothes were covered in dirt, maybe poo. John thought. None the less, he looked a bit mean. His eyebrows were knitted together, staring at the camp that stood before him. John watched.
“I’m back,” Dutch announced. “This here, is Javier!” He grabbed the boys shoulders, slightly shaking him with enthusiasm. The boy snapped out of his thoughts, turning to the group with a wide eyed expression.
“Uhm, hi. I’m Javier.” He introduced, shyly waving to the too boys.
John had a smile on his face. He loved meeting new people; he was practically like a dog wagging his tail whenever someone new approached his presence. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, giving out his hand for Javier to shake— John was faster though. Sprouting out his arm right in front of the small boys face, he flinched in response.
“I’m John!” He gave a toothed smile, Javier quickly connected Johns actions to a dog, like anyone else would. He found it cute though, and also a little jealous. He wish he wasn’t as shy as he is now, and maybe a bit more like John.
“Nice to meet you.” He gracefully shook Johns hand, which he immediately took fond of. His hands were so smooth, Javier thought. Arthur gave a side eye to John, before greeting himself. Javier shook his hand too, feeling the sweat Arthur tried to wipe away a bit ago; he hated it.
Dutch smiled once they were done introducing each other, gathering the thoughts inside his head. “Would you mind if you and Javier shared a tent?" He questioned, turning back to John.
John grimaced. He had just upgraded his tent to where he didn’t have to share with Arthur anymore, and he really liked his alone time. Besides, his place was pretty messy too. He never cleaned up, being a lazy little slug he is. But he noticed Dutch’s facial expression, knowing that even if he did protest he would be forced to share. He clicked his tongue, nodding.
"Good!” Dutch rummaged around in his bag, pulling out a small shirt and jeans; shoved it in a Javier’s hands. “Now show him around. I gotta wake up hosea, and take care of some business." He ushered them away, going in the direction of his tent.
Arthur turned away, still having a skeptical look. "Okay, uh, come to me if you need anything." He shrugged, walking off to do more chores.
Besides his protests, John had to lead Javier to his tent. And once he did, he just wished he would turn into a puddle right there and then. Javier looked at the ground, disgusted by the mess John had. He was used to seeing gross things, and messy things since he was always out on the run, but this was just weird. The ground was sprinkled with a few unwashed clothes, while some empty cans of food sat at the foot of his cot. His cot was unmade, and looked very uncomfortable.
"Ah, it's a bit gross in here." He muttered, a low laugh escaping his lips.
"Well sorry," John joked, "I didn't expect company." He started to bend down, picking up some of the things that littered the ground. He wouldn't even clean up if Arthur told him, so why was he doing it for this single man? Maybe just out of embarrassment; humiliation.
"Just hurry up. So I can change." Javier sat on John's cot, making himself comfortable.
John quickly picked up everything else, dropping a few things as he stumbled around like an alcoholic. He turned back to Javier, eyebrows scrunched up together.
"Don't get too comfortable—that's my cot." He huffed, only joking.
Javier hopped off the cot as soon as he said that, a frown forming on his face. “Sorry.” He said, moving out of Johns way. John cocked an eyebrow, confused with the boys behavior.
“I was joking.” He smiled, attempting to reassure him. “Uh, can you help?” He then asked, struggling to hold up all the trash in his arms.
Javier smiled in response, taking some cans of food out of Johns pile he was holding. “Yeah, seems like you need it.” He snickered, before he opened the tent, letting John leave first.
John walked out into the sun, throwing away the cans of food whilst tossing his dirty clothes to Ms. Grimshaw. He waved at her, in which she slightly waved back. Too busy cleaning everyone else's clothes to pay attention to the boy infront of her.
"Who's that?" Javier asked, slightly cowarding behind John. "She looks mad." He whispered.
John watched Ms. Grimshaw, her eyebrows were furrowed; with her bottom lip pouted out. Yeah, she looked angry, but John knew she was just concentrated. It was her look, always concentrated on something. But other than that, she was always mad about something—or atleast agitated.
John let out a quiet laugh. "That's Ms. Grimshaw. She's aint mad now, just concentrated. Don' bother her though, cause she will spit a thousand insults at you at once." John shivered, recalling whenever Ms. Grimshaw yelled at him for three minutes straight after he knocked over her bucket of water; as if they didn't camp by a lake.
Javier nodded, taking a good look at the older woman. John let out another laugh at the boys untrustworthy attitude. He shifted away, with Javier trailing behind him.
"You better get changed now," John uttered. "Give your old clothes to Ms. O'Shea, she'll patch 'em up."
"Thanks. Uhm, who is that?" Javier scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the patches of ground his feet stood on.
"Dutch's girlfriend. I'll bring it to her, if you don't wanna talk to her." John slightly smiled. This boy shy, It was weird, one moment he’s shaking his hand, and the next he’s cowering behind John just because Ms. Grimshaw looks mean.
“Yes, Por favor.” He replied looking back up at Johns face.
Over the next few weeks, Javier had made some progress in his shyness; he talked to Ms. O’Shea for the first time a couple days ago, and seems to have small talk with her every now and then. He still refuses to talk to Ms. Grimshaw, still seeing her as a beast. It didn’t help that he had to witness John getting smacked upside the head by her— for knocking her bucket of water over again. Javier talked to John the most, and it made sense; Javier is the same age as John, roommates, and the first person he actually gotten to know during his first few days. They were attached to the hip by Javier’s fourth week— causing trouble everywhere they went together. Ms. O’Shea thought it was sweet, whilst Arthur was annoyed to his core. They both liked to play little pranks on him, and they couldn’t get in trouble for it since Dutch shrugged them off as harmless. But it wasn’t harmless to Arthur; every time he looked at the two he wanted to hold them by their legs and ring toss them into the river.
One night, when the stars shown the most and the crickets chirped the loudest, Javier wasn’t in his cot. John woke up sweaty, trying to cool himself off from the summer heat. He flipped the covers off of his legs; stumbling onto the ground with a slight grumble. He looked at Javier’s empty cot— making sure he wasn’t in there and his mind wasn’t just playing some card tricks on him.
He blinked slowly, stretching out his slightly sore arms. He flopped his hands back down to the side of his body after a few seconds, turning his head in different directions to try and look for Javier. He noticed a dark, short figure sitting by the river. His mind curiously made his way to the figure, the shadows turning into the colors of his dear friend Javier. He softly sat down by him, looking at the boy who was drawing shapes into the dry dirt infecting the ground.
“Hey.” He hushed, lowering his eyes to look at Javier’s dirt covered hands; watching him draw a circle with his pointer finger. Javier didn’t respond, soon plucking at the sharp blades of grass that floated next to the patch of dirt.
“Can’t sleep?” He scooted a bit closer, sensing something was wrong with Javier. He was never quiet like this, not even when he first joined the gang. It was worrying, seeing Javier all shut up and shutting out. Javier’s eyes flickered over to Johns for a split second, before he placed his hands back onto his lap. Leaving the patch of dirt and grass alone.
“A lot on my mind.” He whispered, almost incoherent. He placed his hands on the ground, supporting him as he slightly leaned back. His left hand lightly grazed over Johns fingers, neither of them caring enough to jolt away.
“Is it something bad?” John worried. “Did something happen?”
Javier shook his head, opening his mouth to speak— nothing came out. He had a knot in his throat, and one sentence that would come out he would explode in sobs. Whatever was wrong, was bothering him for a while. But for just someone to just ask if he was okay; he was ready to sprout in tears.
“Oh.” John turned back to look at the lake, glistening in the moons shine. He could slightly see both him and Javier’s reflection; all rippled and transparent. Javier breathing hitched, trying to keep his composure and not choke out in sobs. So weak.
“Did you know,” John started, earning a raised eyebrow from Javier; gesturing him to elaborate. He did just that— continuing on. “When I was six I used to eat Little Rocks?”
Javier’s slight frown turned into a smile in a matter of seconds, not believing what was entering his ears. He stood back up, right beside the other male with an surprised look on his face. “What? ¿de verdad?” He softly laughed. Even if it was true, should he be surprised? I mean, it’s John.
“Yeah!” He smiled. “Just little pebbles, right off the ground.” He gestured towards the ground, scrunching his eyebrows and smiling even more.
Javier snorted, a loud ugly snort that was just music to Johns ears. “W-what did they taste like?” He asked, laughter still being evident in his tone.
“Hard, obviously. And dry. Very dry.” He explained, picking up a small pebble from the ground. His eyes scanned it, pretending to examine all its details. “It kinda looks good right now…” he trailed off.
“¡no no no! ¡Por favor, te juro que si lo haces, estás muerto!” Javier yelled, frantically waving his hands in front of John while laughing his ass off. His aura changed, he was more happy; forgetting about his troubles.
John smiled, leaning into Javier’s frantic movements. Their laughs were knitted in harmony— sweet like candy and forever lasting in each other’s minds.
The night went on like that. Johns jokes making Javier forget about the sob that held at the back of his throat. It was shocking how nobody woke up due to their laughter, since most of the wildlife around them did. They held on to each other, holding on for dear life like one of them was about to fall from a three story building. Laughter was shaking throughout the trees, also slightly making the river waves tremble. It ended with Javier curled up against the other boys shoulders, finally getting the well sleep he so rightfully deserved. John let out a breath, looking at the sun that was now starting to rise. Something about Javier felt different. He loved being around him, loved being the one who made him smile, he loved being his best friend— but something was very different. He just, couldn’t put a right hand on it.