Chapter Text
John fucking Marston.
That dry humored, angry, dense yet soft man. He could tell a joke, grumble about how no one got it, then call your humor terrible. He’s fast, somehow smart, and a great shot. He’s terrible compared to Arthur, but if you’re betting then Sean at shooting, you’re great. John is remarkably quick to pick up on everything to do with violence, he reminds me of a deer every time he picks up on something I do not. John will put a hand out in front of me to stop me in my tracks as he freezes alongside me. I eventually learned to shut up after a few times this happened, and listen with him. Sometimes, I don’t pick up on it, but other times I can hear it so faintly.
I’ve asked him so many times how he is able to hear it, especially after being around guns for so long, there has to be some hearing loss, right? Somehow, he’s avoided all of that. His hearing couldn’t be more perfect. I’ve learned to trust John’s intuition, as he’s right… most of the time, anyway.
I’m thinking about this while prepping some traps for hunting, and I feel a heat rise to my cheeks. No doubt I’m visibly blushing, which just makes my face more red as I’m embarrassed. I pat my cheeks in an attempt to get ahold of myself and then I grab a rope, and begin to tie it to a new net Arthur bought with the camp money. To my understanding, it’s supposed to be one of those traps you tie to a tree, make a lever system, and hide the net in the leaves. Leave some bait on the net, too. I’ve tried to tie this knot about six different fucking times, and I’m usually great at it, but John’s got me all distracted. From what I understand, I got picked up by the gang a few days after they left the mountains, left this place called Colter. I met them after I was having a lot of run in’s with this other gang.
“The O’Drsicolls,” I remember Dutch sneering. There was clearly some personal business between the two gangs, but at the time, I wasn’t too interested. That’s the first time I met John. Long brown hair with a puffy, stitched up face. The scars I know today were just stitches. The two deep gashes running along his cheek, sported by a less deep gash across his chapped lips, part of his eyebrow was nicked off, a stitched up gash across his nose, and a healing cut across his other cheek. His eyes were particularly striking, they hold a secret that seems to be dying to be let out. Dutch and the others didn’t automatically accept me into the gang, nor invited me at first. It took a couple of run in’s, and one conversation I remember very well got me on Dutch’s good side.
It was with John, it was maybe about the fourth time they’d shown up where I was near O’Driscolls. It wasn’t like I was purposely going after them, but the O’Driscolls were coming after me hard for killing a bunch of them already. After the last one dropped dead, I met up with the familiar faces in the midst of the camp, avoiding stepping on the dead bodies. “Funny seeing you here,” I remember Dutch remarking. It was Dutch, Arthur, Micah and John all together. I didn’t know John or Micah’s name, but I knew Dutch and Arthur. “This is like the fourth time, c'mon guys!” I remember joking around with them as I wiped the blood off of my face. “We run into you way too often.” John’s voice came out low and hoarse, a permanent grit to his tone. He seemed annoyed. It was something I would never forget. “Nice to see you too, Scarface. I’d like to think it’s a coincidence, but maybe you’re just following me.” I smile as I remember John rolling his eyes. “I don’t remember seeing you do much action in this situation, saw you come from the back all the way over there.” Arthur stepped up and motioned towards John’s face. “We was in the mountains and he got attacked by wolves.” Arthur offered an explanation, and I feigned a faux-sympathetic expression. Honestly, it’s hard to be sympathetic towards people I don’t know, but I didn’t want to come off as weird. “Seems like they didn’t get only your face, but your brains, too.” That earned me a howling laugh from Dutch and a smile from Arthur. It’s been a good few months since then.
In the middle of my struggle, someone places their hands on the table, next to where I’m attempting to make the trap. I don’t even have to look up because I know who it is. “Damn, how are you struggling this much when you tied Kieran up perfectly?” John mutters, watching me pathetically fail another knot. I look up at the man with furrowed eyebrows, yet it’s clear that my words are lighthearted. “Hey! This is different from tying knots to prevent a person from getting away. This is a net, not a person.” I retort, feeling the stinging frustration building up inside of me. “Well, in that case..” He says, examining where and how I’m attempting to tie it. “Think of the net as a uh, real skinny person. Or.. somethin’.”
I pause and blink at him a few times. “I’m not too sure they stitched you up right from that wolf attack, because your brains are larkin’ all over the place, Marston.” I joke, a smile appearing on my face. His jaw drops and he shoves my shoulder lightly, but I can see the amusement, yet frustration on his face. “Hey!” John complains, grumbling. “I was going to offer to tie it for you, but not now.” I perk up and before he can leave the table, I grab his wrist. “No! Tie it for me before leaving, I gotta get some hunting done today so I can take the load off of Arthur. He’s got enough on his plate, as it is.” I complain, shoving the rope and net into his hand. “Don’t we all,” He mumbles under his breath, but he takes a seat next to me anyhow. John places the door and the net on the table, and within seconds he’s got the perfect type of knot for the net. “Why don’t I just go hunting with you? Make sure you don’t step in the trap.” John retorts, leaving the trap on the table. I blink in awe for a moment before looking at John. I make eye contact, and I feel all warm. He’s such a nice thing to look at. His eyes, his features, his jawline, his hair.. He makes me wanna run my fingers through his hair. “Sure.” I answer quickly before looking away, feeling that heat spread from my stomach to my face.
“Alright, I’ll meet you on the edge of camp. Hosea showed me a lil’ place to hunt.” John says as he stands up, grabbing the rope trap. I quickly snatch it from him, narrowing my eyes playfully. “My trap,” I hum. “I’ll meet you out there soon.”
John sighs and shakes his head, walking towards the horse’s area. I get up from the bench and quickly jog over to my tent, grabbing my hunting satchel along with a rifle I haven’t tied to my horse yet. I sprint halfway to the horses before I hear Hosea’s voice. “No running in camp, you know that!” He shouts lightheartedly. I grumble and settle for a power walk pace. I look around for my horse, but I don’t see him anymore. Before I call out to John, I see him on the edge of Camp on his own horse, Old Boy, and holding the reins of my horse. I sigh in relief and I make my way over there. I tie the rifle to my horse, put the satchel on, and swing my leg over, mounting my horse. “Thought Seer ran off again.” I say quietly, patting the side of my horse’s neck. “He only runs off because you own him.” John says with a smile, clicking his tongue to lead his horse into a trot. I do the same and keep a consistent pace next to him as we go down the path. “Oh, shut up.” I say under my breath, leaning down and looping the trap onto my saddle. “The place is a bit away from here. We don’t have to ride hard, but we wanna be there at a reasonable time.” John says as he looks over at me, taking a turn down the road. I follow him on my horse and nod. “Just don’t get us lost, hm?”
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It didn’t take us too long to arrive. From my understanding from the route we took, we’re close to Grizzlies East. It made me nervous but John assured me that we’re staying in the part near the deer and rabbits. “We can hitch here.” John mutters, stopping at a tree with a low branch where you could tie your reins to. I pull my horse up next to his, my horse huffing and flicking his ears. “Oh, you’ll get an apple in just a secondX you impatient buffoon.” I grumble as I dismount my horse, unlooping the net trap. I toss it onto my shoulder and open the bag attached to my saddle, roaming my hand inside for an apple. I hear John doing his own thing for a bit, rustling around and I can hear him making sure he has enough ammo. As my hand grabs an apple, John speaks. “It might be best to use a bow and arrow, I don't want you to come and shoot me when you get angry.” John expresses with a tone of amusement. I scoff and pull out the apple, holding it out to my horse who happily munches on it, core and all. “Oh, how dare you! I might aim for you anyhow, now.” I retort as I wipe my hand off of apple juice. I sigh and look at the rifle I brought. “So no rifle?” I question, a bit sad. I was kinda looking forward to using it. “Uh.. Bring the rifle anyway, we are in bear country, after all.” John reminds me. Right. I pull the rifle from the saddle and sling the strap over my shoulder, then I grab my arrow pack, sling that over my shoulder as well, and I grab the bow and arrow Charles had gifted me as a ‘welcome into the gang’ present.
I pause for a moment as John’s words ring through my ears. Just thinking about his voice makes me feel butterflies. I shake it off by patting my cheek, looking at John. “Did you bring any scent lotion?” I ask, looking at him. “As a matter of a fact, I did.” John replies, and quickly takes a can out. We’re both wearing long sleeves and pants, but we need to get some dinner as soon as possible. “Put it on my body.” I say in a weird tone, laughing as I’m joking. He shakes his head and opens the tin, holding it out to me. I dip my hand in and take out a glob, putting it on my face, my neck, my hands, anything that’s left exposed. I’m careful to not get it in my eyes as I rub it into my skin. I glance over at John who is doing the same, holding the tin between his knees as there’s no surface to place it down on. “I got some bait, bought it fresh the other day.” I say to fill the silence. I grab it from my hunting satchel, and the seal is still covering the tin. “I think mine went bad last week or somethin’. Bet it would still work, though.” John grumbles as he puts the lid back onto the lotion tin and puts it away. I chuckle as John grabs a rifle and a bow and arrow as well, slugging the rifle and arrow pack over his shoulder like I did. “Vultures, maybe.” I say, walking a bit away from the horses and John. “They are only in New Austin,” John reminds me, as I said the exact same thing when I first joined the gang. It embarrassed me immensely. I wave him off as he catches up to me and walks side by side. “Don’t matter.” I mumble, my face heating up with embarrassment as John laughs at my misery. We walk a bit in silence before we find a good area with a tree and a rock nearby. “Here will do just fine.” John says, grabbing the net trap from me without asking. My mouth drops, putting a hand on my hip. “John Marston, rude as ever.” I joke, watching him move leaves from a spot. “Yeah, yeah, who cares.” He says with a sigh, crouching down and placing the net trap. John looks up and jumps a bit as he tosses the rope over with a grunt, the rope falling over onto the other side. “Come place leaves and that bait here.” John calls for me. I nod and walk over bending down and I push the leaves back onto the net. After it’s hidden, I open the tin of bait and sprinkle pieces all over the area where the net rests. After a bit, I put the lid back on. “That should be enough. We should go hide by that rock, now.” I murmur, standing up. I walk over to the rock, and John follows. He’s holding the rope that’s resting over the branch, and the rope is long enough that we can both be behind the rock.
“We should be out of sight for now, until we hear an animal.” John says quietly, rasp filling every word. I only nod and sit behind the rock, my back pressed up against the surface. John does the same, but the rock is on the small side, so our shoulders are pressed against each other. I feel my heart skip a beat when I feel his warmth deep into my sleeve. He looks at me, strands of hair falling out in front of his face. “I’m strong, but I ain’t Arthur. We’re gonna hafta pull the rope together.” John whispers to me, and we’re so close I can feel his breath on me. I say nothing and just nod, grabbing onto the rope. My hands rest between his, nearly touching. I slow my breathing to make less noise, and the next ten minutes are excruciatingly slow. We can’t talk, or even make faces or else we won’t get this.
I manage to zone out, thinking about John. I will admit, I like him more than friends like their friends. Over these days of spending time with the gang, with John, I’ve warmed up to him. At first, we weren’t great friends. We teased each other, but John tends to have a short temper so he would sulk if I said something a bit too mean. He’s been a bit of a standoffish guy, awkward and headstrong, but fun to be around. He’s such a looker, too. He’s so handsome, I see why he and Abigail are together.
“Now.” John suddenly whispers, and pulls the rope. I’m startled out of my thoughts and mindlessly pull the rope with him, and we are met with heavy resistance. I grunt and we both stand up, pulling the rope to tie it around this other tree. I glance over and we caught a pretty hefty sized doe. “Harder!” John rasps out as he guides me around the tree. “I’m trying!” I call out, grinding my feet into the ground as we make our way around the tree a couple of times. I can hear the doe shrieking and struggling as we tie the rope, leaving us slightly panting. “God..” I say quietly, pulling out my knife. I begin to walk over to the deer “I got it.” I call out.
“Wait, [Name], don’t!-“ John shouts. I furrow my eyebrows and I start to look back at him, until I’m frozen, staring at a huge buck who is currently charging at me. I hear a loud boom, a gunshot maybe, but I’m not sure because I closed my eyes from the sound. I hear the sound of a deer wailing in pain before falling over with a thump. I open my eyes, and the buck lays only a foot away from me. I release my breath, which I didn’t even know I was holding. I look over at John who is holding his rifle. He looks panicked as he slings it back over his shoulder and runs over to me, grabbing my shoulder. “Are you alright?? He didn’t get you, did he?” He questions me, looking over my body. I blink as he touches my shoulder. “No, he didn’t.. Thanks for that. Didn’t think about how her mate might’ve been around..” I murmur with a smile, finding it impossible to stop. John lets out a sigh of relief and shakes my shoulder, not yet letting go. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?” He scolds me, with a… serious tone, John has never done that before. “Were you worried?” I ask as I turn from him, grabbing onto the net and shoving my knife into the doe’s neck without a second thought. “I, ‘course I was! Why wouldn't I be?” He asks me as he lets go of my shoulder. The doe cries out, but she stops struggling as she dies. I shrug, smiling lightly with this newfound information. “I dunno, I just expected it to be hard for you to care about new people, with your family and your lifestyle.” I respond as I cut the rope with my knife, the doe and the net thumping to the ground. John sighs and responds with, “Let’s just get to camp, we can talk there.”