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red-dead-scribbles-ff · 2 years

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Into the Fray | Chapter 5

Tasha? | Part Two

Story Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: implied/past domestic violence

Chapter Summary: While memories from her childhood continue to shadow her every step, Natasha discovers that one member of the group who rescued her is more than just a stranger.

Author's Note: Feedback is most welcome and appreciated. Check out visuals of ARROWHEAD PLATEAU, the location of the Van Der Linde Gang's new camp!

She stared at him, lips parted and jaw slackened, as her gaze jumped between his eyes and searched his expression for some form of proof… sincerity.

“H-How did-” The tightness in her throat choked her words. It all made sense in the most unrealistic way possible. But she couldn’t let herself think that it was possibly him. She thought… No - she knew - he was gone. He had to be. She couldn’t have that kind of false hope. Not now. It would shatter her. She wanted to deny that it’s him. She tried to.

“You're not-” She shook her head as she looked at him and he seemed confused by her words as his brow knit when she looked down and away.

“What?” He spoke quietly and she brought one hand to her face to cover her eyes as she tried to hold back tears. “Tasha, it's me,” He breathed out and ducked down to try and see her face as she hid away from him. He seemed fully confident he now knew who he was talking to, but she, on the other hand, wasn't. “I promise,”

She shook her head again and tried to continue to shield her face from his view. Feeling something soft touch the back of her hand, she allowed herself to peek through her fingers to see him holding a dark colored cloth for her to take - a bandanna of sorts. She accepted it and dabbed at her eyes.

“Can't believe you kept this ol’ thing.”

“What?” She sniffled as she chanced a look towards him, lowering the cloth only a fraction.

“My hat.” He responded quietly as he gestured to it, his eyes grazing over the material before he met her eyes.

She stared at him for a long moment, her blood-shot, watery eyes narrowing before she swallowed what felt like her heart beating in her throat.

"...John?" She croaked out the question, throat raw from her stubborn urge to refuse her body’s desire to burst into tears and bawl.

"Yeah, it’s me." He breathed as he leaned back a little, hands raised along his sides; a familiar glint was in his eye that she now felt confident enough to say she recognized as she pushed the cloth up to her eyes again, hoping the fabric shielded her face enough to hide the fact that her dam just broke.

“Hey,” She heard him chuckle as she continued to hide herself away. “You alright?” He continued and she felt one of his hands on her arm holding the bandanna.

She tried to take in a quiet breath, but it only revealed to him almost immediately that she was now crying. The fact only made his grip on her arm tighten as she tried to suppress the quiet sobs into the cloth.

She wrapped the arm holding the cloth around his neck, and began sobbing into him when she felt an arm reciprocate and hold her tightly, “Oh my god, John-" Her balance was the last thing on her mind as she clutched at the back of his shirt tightly, holding him impossibly close while one of her crutches lay discarded on the ground.

"I gotcha, let go." She heard the rawness in his muffled voice against the side of her head and didn't give it a second thought as she dropped the one crutch she still had in hand and wrapped her other arm around him.

She buried her face into his neck as she cried, one hand having grasped at the back of his shirt and the other, his head, her fingers weaving their way through his hair, down to the nape of his neck.

He let out a grumble-like cough, one that she may have originally assumed a queue to step away, if not for the fact that he soon after, pulled her closer to him and nestled his own head into the meet between her neck and shoulder. She felt his hair tickle her neck, forehead pressing lightly down, and felt his arms around her waist squeeze tighter.

So many different feelings flooded her mind at that moment. Most of them were good. She'd been so scared these past few weeks. Alone and uncertain of everyone and everything around her. He couldn't have come at a better time. How she managed to find him - or his people her - she didn't know. It wasn't real. That kind of luck didn't exist. The sheer realization had yet to set in. He was dead. She believed it for so long that she had gotten him killed that day. Yet here he was in front of her.

"I thought they killed you." Her thoughts spoke through her cries as she sobbed. "I tried to get back-" She hiccupped, "Back to the homestead but the current-"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me-" He laughed but she could hear the small crack in his voice. "You saved my life that day- I thought-..... I thought you drowned, Tasha, we looked f..." His sentence broke off and Natasha found her eyes unfocused on the ground over his shoulder as she held him tightly. "We looked- we did, I swear I-"

"Don't- Don’t do that- it's okay," Natasha forced herself to pull away to meet his eyes for the first time since embracing him. "Really I'm... I'm okay," Her voice shook quietly as she smiled, her cheeks strewn with a combination of fresh and dried tears.

She could see strain in his face; expression lost between guilt and relief. As he looked down, she caught the way he quickly blinked his eyes, and she saw the flex of his jaw as he set his teeth and bit down on his lip.

The guilt of what had happened had caused so many sleepless nights for her in recent years. She'd killed him, in her mind. She'd cried when she told William about the boy who'd kept her alive on the streets - the one she owed her life to. On his face now, she saw the same guilt that had tortured her for so long. The thought of him having held it for as many years as she had, bore a hole through her chest.

Her hands on his shoulders, partially grasping the fabric of his shirt, Natasha remained still as John leaned back into her space and his forehead met her shoulder. She could feel the tears on her cheeks beginning to dry as she hugged him tightly, her arms coming up under his to grasp at his back before she brought one up and over to grasp at the collar of his shirt, and let her head fall to his shoulder.

She'd forgotten how good it felt to be this happy and overjoyed… comforted. The buzz of relief coursing through her veins had her feeling like she was in the clouds as she breathed in his scent. Different but... she knew it. She remembered it.

The admittance to herself only made her smile and hold him tighter as she let out a laugh. A laugh. Something she hadn't done in a long time. He echoed her, laughing into her shoulder as he held her just as tightly, if not more.

“I thought you didn’t want to cut your hair.” She felt the heat of his breath at the edge of her shirt collar as he spoke, and let out another small laugh.

“It was your idea.” Natasha responded, thinking back on the memory she'd just been revisiting minutes before their discussion.

“I know it was, I remember.” John laughed.

Clutching the shirt tightly in her grip at the back of his head, she smiled as she rested her chin down. A tingling sensation hit her nose and she sniffled. “It was a good one.” She admitted as she let out a small sigh, earning another laugh from him.

She lifted her eyes after a couple of seconds and noticed for the first time since embracing him, that it had gotten quiet. Very quiet. Her eyes traced her surroundings over his shoulder before they finally landed on the table thirty or so feet away where the rest of his group sat, all of them looking at her with varying expressions that ranged from that amusement to utter confusion.

She watched them for a moment as they all seemed to exchange glances before Dutch decided to speak up. “John?” He called over in question.

Natasha felt John’s grip tighten following Dutch’s proclamation, his hands clutching at the fabric of her shirt. It was subtle, but enough to pull at the corner of Natasha’s mouth as she showed the smallest smile.

“Johnny…” Annabelle’s voice followed the silence as the boy remained quiet despite the calls of his name, and Natasha attempted a small pat below his neck as she continued to hold him close to her.

A sigh sounded off from John behind her and his grip tightened again before loosening a fraction.

“Tasha.” He called out in response.

Natasha waited a moment for something further to follow, but it seemed that was the only explanation needed as she saw flickers of change in the expressions of the faces that were a few meters from her.

Tapping him again, Natasha coaxed space between them as John stepped away to meet her eyes as she pulled her own away from the group to eye him. She expressed a glimmer of uncertainty by way of his proclamation but he just shook his head before nodding.

“It’s okay, they know.” He breathed quietly.

Natasha’s brow knitted together tightly before movement behind John pulled her gaze over his shoulder again.

“I’ll be damned,” The statement came from Mr. Van Der Linde as he coaxed Annabelle up from his lap and got to his feet. “So this is her, huh?” He laughed wholeheartedly as he approached.

“W-what?” The word escaped Natasha when she turned to look at John again as he came to stand next to her, his hand coming to rest on her back to support her. She brought her own hand up to the shoulder of said arm, adjusting her weight slightly to comfortably remain standing without her aids that were still discarded on the ground.

“We looked for you, miss. After we found young John here,” Dutch’s hand grasped John’s shoulder as he came to a stop in front of the two. “For several days in fact. However you… proved quite elusive.” He chuckled.

“You lo-” The fact settled in Natasha’s mind as she thought it over multiple times, eyes jumping from Dutch, to Hosea, Annabelle and Susan, and then Arthur, and back again to Dutch.

They looked for her. They must’ve found John not long after they got separated. She was swept away so fast… She had no idea how far down the river she went, but when she came to, she was on a bank after dark. She got moving not long after.

The sheer fact that people she didn’t know had put such an effort into finding her on John’s behalf was hard to fathom. She wasn’t anything to work over… It was hard to believe. “Really?” She breathed in quiet disbelief, almost wanting confirmation, and the fact caused a few chuckles as she looked between them all.

“It’s good to see you alive and well, miss…” Dutch trailed off before seemingly realizing the development before he chuckled. “Take your pick, dear.”

“It’s um,” Natasha scrambled to get her ducks in a row before she smiled. “Natasha.” Despite the development, the name felt odd coming out of her mouth in their presence. She hadn’t voiced her nickname in a long time. “Williams. Natasha Williams,” She nodded in confirmation before pulling together a small smile for them. The feeling of John’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before it passed.

Moving from his spot next to Dutch, Hosea took a few steps closer before proceeding to pick up the crutches Natasha had dropped.

“Why don’t you take those, dear.” He gave her a small smile as he held out both aids, coaxing Natasha and John to separate from where they'd each had a hold of the other. She took the aids quietly, adjusting them under her arms before looking up to see eyes on her. Genuine looks… friendly.

Despite nothing having physically changed, the atmosphere had definitely changed, and she felt like she was running to catch up. These people went from being nice strangers to being.... something more. Now that it was apparent they were practically family to John, who was also family to her… It complicated things.

“I'm… I’m sorry I wasn't forthcoming with you all,” Natasha began as her eyes swept from Susan and Annabelle, to Dutch and then Hosea.

“S’not a problem, darlin.” Annabelle was the first to respond as a few of them opened their mouths in an attempt to, but ultimately gave variations of nods and smiles in response to Annabelle’s words.

The weight of Natasha’s deceit being out in the open made her palms sweat as she adjusted her grip on the handles of her crutches. There seemed to be no hard feelings but regardless she felt like she cheated these people who had been nothing but kind and accommodating for her. She herself knew she had no choice but to lie. John knew that to some degree, which was probably why he gave her the little reassurance in saying he had told them. What exactly, she now wanted to know. Natasha glanced to the side to look at John, noticing his eye line was off to the side, unfocused on the ground. He seemed deep in thought.

She used her elbow to gently brush his arm as discreetly as she could to get his attention.

“We’ll need to make some arrangements to start looking into more canvas,” Dutch said. “Get some tents back up.”

“How long d’you think we should wait before heading into town?” Hosea questioned.

“I don’t know, what’d you think?”

“Couple weeks maybe?”

The conversation went on as Natasha’s brow began to furrow as she watched John quietly. His expression had fallen and his brow was tightly knit as he stared into the ground. “John?” She spoke up quietly, adjusting her stance when his eye line rose a couple seconds following her speaking up. His gaze dotted around, visually unfocused on any particular thing like he was wracking his brain for something when they stopped and locked onto something. Natasha watched him for a time, the conversation Dutch was having with Hosea and Susan tuned out from her mind as she watched him. “John,” She repeated before slowly following his gaze to see what he was looking at, only to have her eyes land on Arthur Morgan, who was looking back at him. She looked between the two of them discreetly for a time, noticing a bit of a stare down happening before Mr. Morgan gave John the smallest shake of his head. The action caused John to noticeably shift where he stood, and Natasha looked at him briefly to see his expression having hardened more before his jaw clenched.

“John,” The statement pulled Natasha’s eyes to the older of the two to see a similar expression on Arthur’s face but one less angered than John's apparent expression.

Natasha rested her arm further into her crutch so she could briefly pull at the fabric of John’s sleeve, hoping to get his attention and lessen the growing tension that only she seemed to be noticing with the conversation going on with the others present.

He stepped forward before she could fully grasp at his sleeve and she followed him with her eyes, mouth opening to speak up.

“You said she was gone.” The tone of John’s voice wasn’t one she had heard or could recall in years past and she found her own words dying in her throat as she processed his statement. Her brow knit as she watched John walk around Dutch and the others and towards Arthur.

“Watch it, boy.” Arthur warned as the younger man approached.

“You said she was gone!”

Natasha visibly flinched when John suddenly lunged at Arthur - who was more than a head taller than him - arms going around his torso to knock him off balance and to the ground.

A scuffle broke out, causing the conversation between the others to come to a quick halt as Natasha tried to step around them to see what was happening. Everyone dispersed to see the commotion.

“God- damn it!” She heard Arthur snap before he threw John off of him. The younger one hit the barrel that was holding the tabletop up and caused the top half to dislodge and slide off along with everything on it. Arthur only succeeded in getting to a knee before John attempted to tackle him again. “She- was John!” Now seemingly prepared and aware of John’s intention, Arthur seemed to gain control of the situation rather quickly and pinned John down despite the continued struggle. “Calm down boy.”

“Don’t call me boy you bastard-” John snapped back as he managed to weasel out of Arthur’s grip.

Both got to their feet rather quickly but before either could start throwing punches - which they seemed more than ready to - Dutch stepped in between them. “Both of you- stop this!” Dutch pushed both of them apart as he stepped into the mix.

The overwhelming urge to step in and get John out of the heat was overwhelming but her overloaded state was already making it difficult enough to process just what was happening by what they all were saying.

“Arthur?” She heard Dutch speak up again as her eyes jumped between them and then landed on the older of the two young men.

“Hey- I looked up and down that river for three days straight, Dutch! What’d ya want me to do?” Arthur’s voice rose in defense as he spoke. “We had the law on us already at the time without having t-”

“So you lied?!” John yelled, leaning into the hand Dutch had on his chest to keep the teenager stationary. “I didn't lie.” Arthur snapped back before gesturing at Natasha, not sparing her a glance as he did so. “She's standing right there ain't she?” “You said she was GONE!” John tried to get at him again but Dutch easily kept him back as her friend struggled.

“She was!” Arthur barked, stepping forward but not touching the hand that Dutch had out towards him in case he needed to hold the other one back. “I couldn't find her- who knows where she'd gone, John. I didn't say she was dead.” He pointed at him as he made his argument. “S'what you meant when you told me, and you know it!”John bared his teeth. “Stop! Now!” Dutch broke through the two arguing and they both seemed to listen, nostrils flaring as they remained silent.

Natasha watched from where she was standing, just noticing that Annabelle had walked up next to her and had placed a hand on her arm. Perhaps in a gesture of comfort. She felt paralyzed as it was. Seeing that much aggression suddenly present itself was something she wasn’t expecting. Especially not from John.

“Now, John,” Dutch turned to him, but didn’t get the teenager’s full attention. “We were in a bit of a tough spot back then, d’you remember?”

Silence followed the man’s question and Natasha glanced between the three before she focused on John. He was still glaring at Arthur, but as the seconds ticked by, his eyes fell and he seemed to process Dutch’s question before he gave a small nod, eyes rising to Arthur once more.

“Arthur volunteered to look for you, if I recall correctly. Sounds like he did what he could with the time we had,” Dutch trailed off, seemingly waiting for a response from John who looked away and huffed.

As the seconds passed, the tension seemed to slip away. John’s posture sagged a bit as he avoided eye contact with everyone and Arthur looked equally frustrated as he looked everywhere but towards John.

“John, let’s take a walk.” Hosea stepped into view, and Natasha followed him with her eyes as he gestured for John to walk with him. John seemed to process the request before his expression began to soften and he looked past the man towards Natasha. She met his eyes for a time as he gave her an apologetic look before allowing Hosea to direct him to the other side of camp.

“You boys are ridiculous.” Susan grumbled before going to proceed with cleaning the scattered objects from the now dismembered table. Natasha watched her quietly for a moment as she felt Annabelle squeeze her arm in a comforting manner before going to help. Natasha continued to watch, feeling awkwardly helpless and exposed in the disheaved camp.

“I looked, Dutch.” The comment was quiet enough that Natasha was almost certain that she wasn’t meant to hear it as she caught Arthur mumbling to Dutch quietly. She glanced in their direction as they spoke to each other.

“I know you did, son.” Dutch grasped at Arthur’s shoulder for a time before glancing about several times until his eyes landed on Natasha.

She knew she probably looked rather startled to them. Trying to collect herself she swallowed despite her dry throat and tried to clear her throat as Dutch approached.

“Sorry you had to see that, miss.”

“I’m sorry, I wish you all hadn’t gone to so much trouble for m-”

“No, I’ll have none of that.” He made it clear. “S’nothing you could’ve helped, dear. John’s just…” Dutch glanced to the side where he knew Hosea was talking with the young man. Dutch sighed after a moment before giving her a small smile. “He kept an eye out for you for a long time. We tried to as well, but we didn’t have much to go on.” He explained.

“I-” Natasha thought for a moment. “I really appreciate the thought.” She furthered quietly.

It was a lot. All of it. It was starting to tack on as the minutes passed. The realization of the day that her John was alive was enough on its own without the tacked on drama.

She looked quickly to the side as Arthur huffed and grumbled under his breath before walking away. She swallowed anxiously before glancing towards where she knew Hosea and John had disappeared near the front of camp where the hitching post was.

“Hey,” Dutch spoke up in an effort to get her attention and she quickly met his eyes. “Those two squabble over the air they breathe. They’re mad at each other now, but tomorrow it’ll be like nothing happened,” Dutch leaned in partially as he spoke quietly.

“That easy?” Natasha questioned at an equal volume that earned her a chuckle and nod from Dutch before he gave her shoulder a small pat and headed over to help Susan and Annabelle with the tabletop.

A few hours had passed since everything had happened that evening. Natasha found herself sitting back at the fire. Everyone had called in for the night, and in light of everything, she found herself unable to sleep. A mixed bag of emotions sat in her lap, most of them good. A nervous kind of excitement, relief, fear… A lot of different emotions coursed through her mind. A few weeks and she’d be back on her feet. What then was a question she felt poking at the back of her mind. She forced herself to ignore it. For now she had John back. That was a fact.

Her eyes switched between staring into the fire, and staring up at the night sky. There were so many stars. She’d rarely ever see such a view back in New York. It was so vast. The pictures in the books that she had studied as part of her schooling didn’t do them any justice.

“Hey,” She heard a whisper to her right and turned her eyes away from the sky to see John walking over quietly.

“Hi,” Natasha greeted him with an equal lightness as he came to sit beside her.

“I’m sorry about that.” John’s voice eased up from a whisper to a soft volume that was loud enough for each of them to hear each other comfortably. “Earlier?” He furthered.

Natasha smiled lightly before nodding. “S’okay,” She responded. “Are you and him on good terms or-”

“Yeah, I guess.” John shrugged as he picked at the fabric of his pants. “He’s… Arthur’s like my brother. I dunno.” He seemed a bit uncomfortable admitting it and Natasha nodded. “I was kinda in a bad way when Dutch found me. Arthur was the one who looked the most,” John explained before trailing off. “Your accent’s gone.” He quickly changed the subject, causing Natasha to sit up a fraction to meet his eyes before she smiled and chuckled.

“Uh, yeah,” She swallowed and cleared her throat quietly before nodding. “Yeah, William helped me over the years with it.” She explained, her eyes on the flickering flames of the fire before she looked at him. “He figured it might be best if I was ever out on my own again.”

“What happened after that?” John leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he looked at her. “After we got separated.”

Natasha was quiet for longer than she realized as she thought over how to answer his question. So much happened after they got separated. Too much. It was John but- part of her felt uncomfortable admitting all that happened.

“Ended up on a train carrying cargo back east,” Natasha shrugged. “Got caught stealing and someone recognized me when I was in custody. Ended up back with my uncle.” Her tone was disconnected as she spoke. It was the easiest way for her to say any of it without letting her emotions get the better of her.

Silence followed her words, and she looked back towards John to see him eyeing her with an expression that voiced concern. John knew a bit about her uncle. When they first met, back when they were both about 10 years old, she'd told John literally everything. The only things he didn't know concerned what had happened since they'd been separated.

The look in his eyes pleaded for answers - for more information as to what had happened since the last time they'd seen each other. The desire to be truthful with him was overwhelming, but the shame strangled that side of her mind. What would he think... It was a wretched topic to discuss. You don't talk about things like that.

"I'm fine." Natasha breathed out quietly before meeting his eyes, seeing a look that didn't believe her in the slightest, but nonetheless, John accepted her statement and looked away. She was grateful that he chose not to pry.

It got silent between them again, and Natasha watched the fire as the minutes passed and they sat in silence. It was a comfortable silence. He seemed just as tired as she was physically, but her mind was operating on a different playing field. He seemed to be in a similar boat.

“So,” He spoke up again, causing Natasha to smile as he bounced his legs a couple of times. “I haven’t really had a chance to ask, but what’d you think of the Gang?”

His words caught her off guard and her brow furrowed as she turned to look at him. “The what?” Natasha questioned. She probably hadn’t heard him right.

“The Gang.” John repeated, seemingly nervous for her answer before he proceeded, “What’d ya think?”

“Y…” Natasha processed the word again, that he had in fact, said ‘gang’. “You call yourselves a Gang?” Natasha chuckled quietly as she gave a small shake of her head, her nose scrunched.

“Well yeah,” John laughed before rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re outlaws, what else would ya call us?”

Natasha stared at him for several seconds before blinking.

“... W-What?”

Author Note: Feedback is appreciated if you liked it 😊 Check out ARROWHEAD PLATEAU to see visuals of the Gang's current camp!

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