Part. 47

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(F/N) put a couple more slugs in his shotgun, he pumped the handle to load one in place. Lenny scoffed, "Well you're certainly taking this seriously ain't you?"

(F/N) looked at him, he smiled slightly, "You didn't see the kind of protection he has at his house. And he probably has more now, since he's gonna be expecting us."

Lenny shrugged, he continued cleaning his rifle. The campfire was silent for now, Bill, Arthur, and John were going with them to get Bronte. (F/N) threw his shotgun over his back, he had cleaned it and his repeater and had loaded them both with ammunition, this was gonna be rough. Plus he had a lot more ammo ready with the new bandalor he had bought, courtesy of the Saint Denis gunsmith.

The group was ready, all they needed was Dutch's word, and they would were ready to kill the bastard. The man himself came up to (F/N), "Son, can I talk to you?"

The entire group looked at Dutch, as (F/N) stood up, "Sure, boss."

The gang's leader gestured for (F/N) to follow him away from the campfire, Arthur and (F/N) exchanged a look, as he followed after him. As soon as the two men were out of earshot, Dutch cleared his throat, his words were genuine, "First of all, I'm sorry for snapping at you, and calling you an ungrateful snake."

(F/N) nodded, it wasn't his best moment, "It's alright, I know you're under pressure."

Dutch put his hand up, "Still, it ain't right. I know you're loyal, you defended me after Blackwater. Almost no one else did. It's just...I can deal with disloyalty from the rest of them. It's just when you, or Arthur, or Hosea questions me...it hurts. You are practically my son."

(F/N) nodded, as he thought about what they were getting ready to do now, "I don't doubt you have a plan. I'm just scared that we're losing ourselves in this mess. We've done some really bad things Dutch, I don't want the family to turn into something different."

Dutch put an arm on (F/N)'s shoulder, "Unfortunately, that is gonna happen. To survive, we need to adapt, and that means we're gonna have to do things we ain't proud of."

The young gunslinger sighed, he had hoped he wouldn't have to hear that, "I guess that's what I'm afraid of. I keep thinking the more bad stuff I do, the more I'll turn out like Micah."

The man with a plan looked (F/N) in the eyes, he wanted to say that wasn't a bad thing, but all he said was, "Son, there's gonna come a time when your gonna have to be who you are to survive."

(F/N) looked at Dutch, that crazy look hadn't left his face since the trolley raid, "I don't quite get you."

Dutch smiled, and raised his hands, "I don't quite get myself either. I'm just being silly...odd."

(F/N) nodded, he was uncomfortable now, "Alright..."

Dutch chuckled, "You know me...and I know you," the smile vanished from the man's face, he put a finger on (F/N)'s chest, and whispered, "I know you."

Dutch suddenly snapped back to his regular demeanor, "Now are we gonna take down Bronte or what?"

(F/N) nodded, the older man was creeping him out, more than usual, "That would be best."

Dutch put an arm around (F/N), "Then let's go.

Dutch walked back to the rest of the group, "Alright, gentlemen we have to make a social call to Mr. Bronte."

The group got up making sure to holster their weapons, Dutch walked over to the horses, "Let's ride!"

As they walked over to the horses Bill walked up to Dutch and asked, "So Dutch, I've been meaning to ask you. What's Tahiti like, anyhow?"

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