Red Dead Damnation (Van der Linde gang x Male Reader)

Part. 3

John's back and with a brand new scar, which is an improvement, I guess. Arthur still hates his guts so nothing's really changed there. And I have another scar to add to my collection. Ever since that damn boat, I keep having nightmares, I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see Dutch blow that poor woman's brains out. We REALLY messed up on that ferry job. Everyone on that boat turned feral. I guess I shouldn't pretend like I didn't lose it a bit, I was probably the biggest monster of all.

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(F/N) sighed as he shut his journal and stored it in his satchel, he got off the ground, the light was already shining through the window of the empty cabin he had been sleeping in, he was usually the last to get up. (F/N) had slept on the ground, as Javier and Bill had claimed the two beds. (F/N) refused to sleep with Javier, because the other man hated him, and would possibly attempt to fillet him with his knife. Bill wasn't much better, he smelled like horse shit, plus after he went to sleep he was a cuddler. So that left his only option to sleep on the floor with Lenny, true the floor was hard and cold but it was better than the alternative. As the two youngest members of the gang, they usually got the short end of the stick.

(F/N) opened the door outside, there was no wind, but it was snowing, at least there was some improvement to the weather. The rest of the cabins in camp were silent, no one was walking around, everyone was probably huddled inside to get warm. (F/N) pulled his jacket shut, stopping to look at the torn-up sleeve.

Mary-Beth had done a pretty good job of stitching his arm up, but it still stung a bit, hopefully, that wolf hadn't been carrying any disease, or else he'd be in trouble. The usually happy and family-like gang were all worn down over the events of the last few days. (F/N) didn't blame them, he was pretty out of it too. He hadn't eaten anything since Blackwater and he wasn't sleeping well, his stomach growled to remind him of that, as he walked through camp. (F/N) sighed, turned around, and made his way to the one place where there had to be food, Mr. Pearson, the camp cook.

(F/N) found him in his own part of camp, in his own little shack, with a bottle of booze in his hand, facing a brick stove that had a dying fire, he was wearing a heavy jacket. As (F/N) walked up to him, he noticed the balding, red-faced, fat man, seemed defeated, well more defeated than usual. (F/N) whistled to catch his attention, Pearson turned his head and noticed (F/N).

"We're gonna starve to death up here, Mr. (L/N)." (F/N) scoffed, "Oh, Mr. Pearson I do admire your optimism, really gives me hope."

Pearson sighed, his cheeks were flushed from the cold, and (F/N) could see his breath. "We have a few cans of food and a rabbit...for what twenty, twenty-one people?"

Pearson's hoarse voice continued "when I was in the navy, we were stranded at sea for nearly fifty days."

(F/N) interrupted, he still needed food, "Yeah, yeah you've told me the story before if it wasn't for the plague running through the boat you might not have made it."

Pearson shot (F/N) a look, "When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn't able to get any supplies."

(F/N) sighed at Pearson's pesimism, "We all lost things, I lost all my weapons, even that Mauser pistol I got when we robbed that German family. My point is that we have to keep moving forward."

Suddenly a voice rang out from behind (F/N), "Besides if need be we can always eat you, Mr. Pearson, you are the fattest."

(F/N) turned around and saw Arthur walking up to both of them. "Why don't we just go hunting?"

Pearson sighed and started tending to the fire, "I sent Lenny and Bill hunting and they found nothing."

Arthur smirked and walked into the cabin, standing next to (F/N), "Well there's your mistake Lenny's better at book learning."