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

Part. 76

Arthur could only stare straight ahead as he heard Rains Fall silently weeping over the body of his dead son. Charles walked up to him, the sick man looked at him and gestured to the Indians that were on the reservation, "What are they gonna do now?"

The expert tracker shook his head, "Thanks to Dutch...they must move and fast. I'll stay and help them."

Arthur sighed, he felt horrible about what he had done, "Yeah, I'll stay too. It's the least I can do."

The big man looked him in the eyes, "No, my friend," he patted him on the shoulder, "you have others who need you. Good people and a confused one."

Arthur nodded he had tears in his eyes, both of them knew this was the last time they would see each other. Charles stepped forward and hugged Arthur, the man accepted the embrace, he tried not to show his fear.

When the two broke away Charles walked over to people in the reservation, while Arthur climbed up onto Boadecia. All he could do was think about the horribleness of what he had done as he rode farther and farther away from the soon to be empty reservation.

What the hell had happened to Dutch? The point of this gang used to have meaning, they used to help people, not use them like this. This wasn't supposed to be like this, there was supposed to be a point to all of this. Everyone had gone insane, he needed to help those that could still be helped.

Arthur sighed as those thoughts went through his mind, but then he slowed his horse down. He knew another hacking cough was coming, this one was gonna be a bad one.

When he first started coughing, he quickly jumped off his horse, he brought his hand to his mouth as it only got worse. He coughed blood all over his hand, but he didn't stop there. Arthur tried to breath but his lungs weren't working, the pain was so intense it brought him to his knees. The pain was so intense he could barely comprehend it. As he slowly lost consciousness he only thought of one thing, (F/N).

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(F/N) plunged the wooden cross into the ground, with the name 'Karen Jones' written on it. The young gunslinger took a step back and sighed, he was trying to keep it together but tears were already in his eyes, "I guess this was...gonna happen, huh?"

(F/N) shut his eyes and looked away from the grave, he couldn't stand to look at her, something inside of him snapped, "I...I...I want you to know. You were like a sister to me...some of the best moments I had in this gang were with you. We practically were related...even more than Micah and I. I-I am gonna miss you."

(F/N) finally broke down, "I can't do this...it's too much...it's an endless cycle of death and misery. I don't even remember the last time, there was light that didn't last for a couple of minutes."

The grave sight didn't respond, it wouldn't matter if it did, (F/N) started hearing a loud buzzing in his ears. The gunslinger finally let his emotion get the better of him he yelled out loudly in the woods, he grabbed the shovel he had used to bury Karen and smacked it against a nearby tree. His anger was coming out in a fiery rage. The buzzing stopped as the shovel snapped in half, (F/N) threw the handle in his hands as far as he could, and let out another scream. (F/N) sunk down to the ground and cried, as the reality of the gang's situation kept going over and over again in his head. He truly felt broken.

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(F/N) walked into camp, it looked like all the life had been drained from him. He didn't speak to anyone, he didn't acknowledge anyone, he didn't even look at anyone. (F/N) walked over to his tent/tarp and laid down on the warm sleeping bag. He glanced at the spot where he had moved Karen. He then turned his gaze to the tarp, he was content to just lay there for the rest of his life and not deal with any of the challenges that were coming: half the gang was ready to kill the other half, Dutch was crazier than ever, and after the oil field attack the Pinkertons had to be a couple of days from finding the camp.