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The night was when camp got exciting.
There wasn’t much to do during the day, save for chores, Pearson and Sadie’s minor screaming matches, Jack wanting to show you a bug he found, Arthur would on the odd day, pop back up into camp, drop off some meat or fish, and then run off again with Dutch or Hosea.
But, at night, when few would sleep, the drinks would pour and it’d feel like a community. You relished those nights with everything you had. Especially, since it gave you enough confidence to finally talk to Sean MacGuire.
Sean was boisterous, and he was fun. Something you couldn’t help but want, but more than that, you could tell there was a sweet side underneath all of that boyish mischief, you knew from the way he’d stood up to Micah for you during your first year with the gang.
“Aw, well, she’s a pretty thing, isn’t she… Don’t talk quite as much as the other ladies in camp, which I do appreciate in a woman.” You’d remembered him saying, you don’t quite remember who he said it to, but you knew they were dead now, it was just how it went for Blackwater.
You glare, softly, it’s not a look that could kill him, but you know better than to snap back at him. You knew men like Micah, from before your life on the run. Men like him never changed.
He steps a few inches closer than you’d like, twirling a ring of your hair in between his fingers, his eyes holding that warm, sinister smile. You turn away, or at least try to, but his hands twist into your hair, tugging at it and hurting you when you turn.
“Get the fuck away from her.” You hear Sean say, pushing Micah off of you, a yelp erupts softly from the back of your throat at the pressure of your scalp and you watch as the two men scuffle for a bit, only to be interrupted by Javier and Lenny, the two men huff and glare at one another, only being held back by their new captors, Sean flashes you a small, almost apologetic look, but then a smile. Everything is going to be okay. One of those smiles, a whisper of his usual grin, and you shoot him one back, a thank you for his intervention.
It’s the first time you’d considered him a friend.
But now, as you sat around the campfire, a little bit more whiskey in you than usual, you’d decided that your confidence was more than willing to make the trip that you were unwilling to make while sober.
“Sean!” You call out to the Irishman, and his wide and boyish grin meets yours as he pulls you in close to him with a yelp, “Lass, ‘yer having fun tonight?” He asks and you nod, he swings you around the fire, the eyes of camp pay no mind to either of you, too busy with their own celebrations, and Sean pulls you close, closer than you wouldn’t normally know what to do when you’re sober, but, thankfully, you’ve dropped your inhibitions back at your tent, like everything else you have to pack up when you inevitably pack up camp again. In the closeness between the two of you, he whispers into your ear, “Let’s meet, behind that tree, ‘ya know the one?” You nod and smile at him, he separates from you and you both take your leave, trying your best to look inconspicuous and failing miserably as you hear a playful jab from Tilly about “Maguire Jr,” You shake your head and stick your tongue out at her,
This isn’t what this was, you were more than sure, you didn’t know why you were so sure, but you were. You stumble through the woods, sobering up a tad more with each and every crack on a stick or leaf, you’ve had enough run-ins with the Murfree Brood to sober up quickly in these parts. You feel a hand on your shoulder and a wave of fear runs through you, settling in your lungs and leaving you to scream until Sean’s hand clamps over your mouth. “Aye, lass, it’s me! Chrissakes, you want every bloody cannibal in the forest to hear your screams?” You gasp and when he feels your heart rate lessen, he takes his hand off of your mouth, laughing a tad. “‘You’re alright,” He murmurs, “While I’m here, you’re alright. No one’s gonna getcha… Not a lawman is safe from ‘ol Sean Maguire!” You laugh softly, still pressed into his chest, but, you know his promise is a legitimate one, he takes your hand, squeezing it softly as he leads both you and him to sit on the ground, it’s damp from the rain but Sean’s warmth, his arm wrapped around your shoulder.
“Promise you’ll keep me safe?” You whisper, shivering enough for a chatter in your teeth to be audible, and he hums, the sound almost drowned out by the commotion from camp and even the sounds of the crickets and owls, “On me life.” He says, “I know you and men aren’t an… easy subject, I don’t say this lightly, lass.” You shiver at his implications, but you knew he’d seen your scars, literal and metaphorical, from your late husband , though the word was more of a scar than anything he’d ever left on you. Sean shakes his head, “You’re safe with us, with me . Nothing like that’s ever gonna happen again. He was a bad man, he paid for it… Ya’ know? You did what you had to.” You look down at your hands and then back at the Irishman, who only shakes his head, squeezing your hand even tighter, “As I said, you did what you had to.”
Then, it’s quiet for a moment between the two of you, only the camp singing their raunchy drinking songs can be heard, among the bugs, birds, and other animals in the forest. You consider for a moment and then rest your head on Sean’s shoulder, an appreciative hum comes from the Irishman, he holds you and you snuggle further into his body. You both sit there, silent, a rarity for Sean, but at this moment, there was nothing left to say between the two of you. Just his lips press into your forehead and you close your eyes, feeling safer for the first time than you had in a long time.
“Sean,” You speak up for a moment, catching his attention, “You know that I love you, right?” It’s barely a whisper and you can only bring yourself to face him for a second as he’s got a wide grin on his face. “You have no clue how much I wanted to tell you that tonight… It just, seemed too serious of a moment, you know?” You laugh softly, leaning back into his body and allowing the twinkling of the stars to be your only distraction from the rest of the world, besides an occasional soft peck from Sean across your neck, lips, and forehead, until it becomes time to return to camp, hand-and-hand.