#so when somethin reminds him of it its not great and hes just stuck feelin confused

[chickenoptyrx]

Some gohans just.. kinda goin through it

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 9

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

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This story is also on AO3

A WHILE LATER

UPPER MONTANA RIVER

Trudging through the dry, golden fields of the Great Plains, Arthur tiredly dragged himself across the state as a lonely wind breezed past him, filling the emptiness with a peaceful silence and the soft rustling of weeds.

There was no one else around at the moment. No civilization, no bandits, no camps -- nothing. All Arthur could see right now was the wide, open sky stretching out for miles above him, and a collection of white clouds blanketing its vast space.

It had been a while now since the Van der Linde gang stopped chasing Arthur, and for about an hour, he had been wandering alone, searching the land thoroughly for Isaac.

He didn’t know if the boy made it out alive, or if he was even still in the vicinity, but Arthur couldn’t deny that he felt like he had failed Isaac by not convincing him to spare Mackintosh.

That poor kid was hurting on the inside. Arthur could see it clear as day. Despite the shield he held in front of himself, and the distrustful nature he carried, it was no secret to the man that his son never quite recovered from Eliza’s murder. And now, they were all paying the price.

Arthur just didn’t know how he’d pull Isaac away from the edge. He wasn’t exactly one to talk when it came to berating others for doing wrong, but it was clear to him now that the boy had no interest in showing the Van der Lindes any mercy.

If Dutch came after them -- and Arthur knew he would -- Isaac would kill them all, or die trying. 

He couldn’t let that happen, though. Death was no longer an option. That boy was the only real family Arthur had left. If anything were to happen to him, he didn’t know what he’d do. 

And he wasn’t willing to find out.

Following Isaac’s tracks to the north, Arthur used the trail of flattened grass and tiny blood splatters to guide him, leading him to come upon the Upper Montana River.

There, he spotted a dark brown Thoroughbred standing next to what looked like an abandoned cabin, as well as a bloody handprint on the door.

He assumed Isaac had taken refuge in the decrepit building and decided to approach it, taking out his gun just in case the man wasn’t alone.

Creeping up to the front door, Arthur steadily made his way to the dilapidated porch and glanced through the shattered windows, seeing nothing but cobwebs and specks of dust floating in the air.

It reminded him of the cabin back at Aurora’s Basin. It had the same isolated mood to it that made you feel separated from the troubles of civilization, and if Arthur squinted hard enough, he could’ve sworn he saw Dutch sitting in his rocking chair, observing the outside as always.

Placing a light hand on the doorknob, Arthur cocked his gun and slowly pulled the thing open, bracing himself for the worst. 

So far, nothing in the house had moved yet, and the only sound he could hear was the creaking of old wood, but if anything unfriendly revealed itself on the inside, the last thing Arthur wanted to do was start another gunfight while he already had a gang hunting him down.

There were Pinkertons still roaming in the area, after all, and Arthur had no doubts that one more shootout was all they needed before they’d be able to track the Van der Lindes down.

He’d have to be extra cautious from here on out. Not just for Isaac’s sake, but also for his.

Stepping into the cold shadows of the cabin, Arthur had barely walked through the door before he heard a man’s voice threatening him to lower his weapon, leading him to bring his attention to the other end of the hall.

“...Don’t move.” The man ordered, sitting on the floor. “Or I’ll shoot your goddamn brains out...!”

It was Isaac, thank God.

���Whoa, easy there,” Arthur said, raising his hands. “It’s just me.”

Isaac relaxed upon seeing Arthur’s face, putting his pistol down as he clutched his wounded ear.

“Dad?” He replied, his voice strained due to the injury. “Sorry. It’s just... I didn’t expect you to actually come. Wasn’t sure if you’d follow me after everything that went down with Dutch, but... I’m glad you’re here. Were you followed?”

Arthur gazed over his shoulder, shrugging. “I don’t think so. I doubt the Van der Lindes would chase me this far out into the country. Not when the majority of their supplies have been destroyed.”

Isaac furrowed his brow in concern. “...And what about when they restock?”

The older man holstered his gun and approached the boy, letting out a worried sigh. “...We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Arthur crouched in front of Isaac, eyeballing his bloody hand. “You feelin’ alright, son? How’s that ear doing?” 

The boy hissed in pain. “It’s ringin’ like hell and the bleeding hasn’t slowed down that much, but... I’ll live.”

The older man leaned in closer. “Well, at least lemme take a gander.”

Uncovering his ear, Isaac lowered his arm as Arthur observed the fresh bullet-wound and narrowed his eyes, trying to examine it through the darkness.

“Yep... bullet nicked the edge of your ear pretty good,” he noted. “It’s gonna look like Swiss cheese from here on out, I’m afraid. Luckily, though... I don’t think it hit anything too important. Your hearing should be fine, if a tad unbalanced. Just make sure it don’t get infected.”

That seemed to relieve the boy. “...I will. Thanks.”

Taking a seat next to Isaac, Arthur leaned back against the wall and let out a deep breath, admittedly drained from everything that had occurred so far. He was still having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that he and Dutch were officially enemies now, and on top of all that, he couldn’t quite process that Isaac was really alive either.

Arthur had spent so long having nightmares about seeing those two graves and wondering if he could’ve done anything to save them, but now, after all these years, he was finally sitting side-by-side with his very own son, spending time together like the family they were meant to be.

The outlaw chuckled quietly at the thought, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. 

“...You still look the same. Y’know that?”

Isaac returned the sentiment, cracking a small smile. “So do you.”

Arthur grinned and removed his hat, wiping some sweat off his brow. “Good thing, too. Otherwise, I’m not sure we’d have recognized each other back there.”

He put his hat back on, giving Isaac an uneasy look.

“You, um... feelin’ okay after all that? After killing Mackintosh, I mean. I know you ain’t no stranger to this sorta thing, but... still. I worry.”

Isaac sighed in an unsatisfied manner, clearly conflicted about the situation.

“I... don’t know how to feel.” He answered simply. “I mean, I’m glad Shay and his men are finally dead, but... I just feel like there’s somethin’ missing.”

Arthur nodded in understanding. “You thought killing Shay would provide a sense of peace. Or justice. You believed that everything would go back to normal once he died, but instead, you just feel empty. That sound about right?”

Isaac fell silent, unsure of how to express his thoughts. “I guess. I just... I didn’t expect him to go so willingly. Eli and the others, they all tried to convince me to spare ‘em. But Shay... he didn’t even fight back in the end. Didn’t argue. Just sat there, and let me...” his eyes fell to the floor, “...let me slit his throat.”

Arthur attempted to offer some perspective. “You ain’t the only one who’s had time to think about Eliza’s death, Isaac. I dunno how Shay was before, but despite how angry I was back there, I can’t deny the man sounded sincere when he said he regretted it. Seems like we all make choices that chain us to our past.”

That piqued the boy’s interest. “What about you, Dad? You ever do somethin’ you didn’t like? Something that... really affected you?”

The other man lowered his head in shame, unable to deny the truth. “Oh... I’ve done many bad things, Isaac. Sometimes they were for the good of the gang, sometimes I was just downright rotten. I don’t wanna fill your head with all that, but... just remember, I’ve seen some pretty terrible stuff during my time as an outlaw. Met some terrible people. And a lot of them started out as decent folk who lost themselves to revenge.”

Isaac quirked a brow. “...Like who?”

Arthur paused at that, still somewhat reluctant to accept his “father’s” true nature. “...Like Dutch.”

The boy’s curiosity grew. “Who is Dutch to you, anyways? Everyone I’ve talked to so far has said that he’s out of his mind, but... you’re tellin’ me you stuck with him for thirty years. There’s gotta be more to him than that.”

“Oh, believe me. There is. In fact, Dutch is probably the most complicated man I’ve ever met. In the beginning, he was like a father to me. Took me in when I was just a boy and taught me to read. Taught me how to fight, too. Hell, pretty much everything I know these days came from him. He was like a mentor and a guardian, all in one.”

Isaac listened intently. “So, what happened? How’d he turn into... what he is now?”

Arthur thought back to his time in Saint Denis, recalling all the moments where Dutch slowly started to lose his mind.

“Well, it didn’t happen all at once.” He explained. “It was a gradual process. Dutch was a man with a lot of responsibilities. A lot of pressure. He had to take care of the gang, think of what we’d do next, and where we’d go. It weren’t easy. Eventually though, the time came when civilization started to spread rapidly throughout the States, and the Pinkertons became more ruthless than ever. They started killin’ our men. Infiltrating our camps. Gettin’ our own people to betray us. It was a goddamned mess.”

“It certainly didn’t help matters when people outside the law started steppin’ on Dutch’s toes, too.” He continued. “There was an oilman -- Leviticus Cornwall. He was a pompous, brazen piece of work. He funded the Pinkertons. Helped them track us down. He was like a thorn in our side that would just never go away. And then, there was another feller. Angelo Bronte. Slimy, Italian bastard livin’ it up with the high society of Saint Denis. He set us up multiple times, and nearly got us killed.”

Isaac shrugged. “So... what’d you do to them?”

“I didn’t do anything. Dutch, on the other hand... shot Cornwall in broad daylight. Right in the middle of Annesburg, no less. As for Bronte, he drowned him in a swamp before throwin’ his corpse to the gators. And this was before our gang fell apart.”

The boy couldn’t deny that even he was shocked by that.

“Jesus...” he muttered. “Can’t imagine how you dealt with him for thirty years.”

Arthur scoffed in an amused tone, coughing a few times. “Neither can I.”

Deciding to change the subject, the older man pushed aside his memories for the moment and flipped the conversation over to Isaac, inquiring about his past.

“What about you, son? What was Shay like when you knew him?”

Isaac chuckled, unsure of where to even begin. “...Shay was always hard to read, back in the day. He definitely wasn’t the worst in the gang, but he weren’t no saint either. I think Eli was the only one who could really bring out his good side. The two of them were like brothers, after all, so Shay listened to him. Though, to tell you the truth, he didn’t stick around for that long. Shay left the gang when I was only... what, ten? Eleven? I don’t remember him that well, to be honest.”

“And what about the rest of his gang?” Arthur asked. “You mentioned there were other men involved?”

“Charles and Thaddeus.” Isaac confirmed. “They were there when Eliza died too. Thaddeus was... distant. A cold-hearted bastard who didn’t give a damn about anything ‘cept for money, but... he taught me everything I know. How to shoot, how to hunt, how to track. He had about as much emotion as a rock, but he had a sense of honor. Believe it or not.”

“What about Charles? What was he like?”

Isaac immediately glowered at the man’s name, crinkling his nose. “He was absolute scum. The worst of the worst. He was a creep, too. There were times when I’d wake up in the middle of the night and see him ogling me. Like a piece of meat.”

A sense of dread sparked inside Arthur. “He never... did anything to you, did he?”

The boy shook his head. “No. Thaddeus wouldn’t let him.”

Arthur sighed in relief. “Well... I suppose there’s that, at least. I’m just sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.”

“Don’t be,” Isaac reassured. “There was no way you coulda known I was still alive. Besides, you’re here now. You chose to follow me despite being affiliated with Dutch, and I won’t forget it.”

Picking up his gun, the boy stood up from the floor and took a minute to glance at the cabin around them, observing the empty space.

“Hey, Dad... d’you think we could stay here? Just for tonight? I don’t think I have the energy to set up a camp elsewhere.”

Arthur rose to his feet, patting dust off his legs. “I guess one night wouldn’t hurt. Dutch and his men are headed for Strawberry, so I doubt they’ll come sniffin’ around here. We shouldn’t stay for long, though. Never know when the law will turn up.”

A sudden thought crossed his mind, leading him to stop Isaac in his tracks.

“Hey, that reminds me. Dutch is convinced there’s a traitor in gang. He thinks that somebody helped you poison the food and also told you about the robbery. Is that true?”

Isaac nodded, slinging his rifle around his shoulder. “Yeah. One of your men approached me while I was stayin’ at the Blackwater Saloon. Offered a lot of information for some cash.”

“Who was it?”

“Micah.”

Arthur let out a disappointed breath, placing his hands on his hips. “Goddammit. That snake. So Joe was tellin’ the truth all along. I shoulda known...”

Isaac caught onto his father’s shift in mood, following suit.

“You want us to go after Micah?”

The older man rejected the suggestion. “No. He ain’t worth the trouble. Right now, I just need you to focus on stayin’ alive, and stayin’ the hell away from Dutch. If we happen to cross paths with Micah, then we’ll go from there, but I don’t want you hunting him down like you hunted Shay. Understand, Isaac?”

The young man’s expression flattened in disappointment, but he complied nonetheless.

“...I understand.”

“Good. We got each other now, so let’s not risk our lives for somethin’ we’ve already lost.” Arthur patted his shoulder in an encouraging manner, walking towards one of the bedrooms. “Anyways, that’s enough of that. Let’s make this cabin a bit more homey for the night. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

“Okay.” Isaac replied, his tone quieter now. Before the two of them could get to work, he said one last thing to Arthur, feeling somewhat apologetic about his actions in Tall Trees.

“...Dad?” The young man called out.

Arthur turned around, stopping just in front of the door to one of the other rooms. “Yeah?”

Isaac gazed at the floor, admittedly a tad embarrassed. “...I missed you.”

The older man smiled warmly at the comment, wanting to pull the boy into a hug right there.

“I missed you too, kiddo.” He said, wishing Eliza could’ve seen them now. “It’s good to have you back.”

[battystumutchildren-blog]

RYAN: -back at it again at the silvah dollah. it's kinda nice to have someplace new to stalk around the later hours of the day. she knows it's not exactly advisable for various reasons to transportalize out onto the satelite isolated far from her home. but... whatever. it's comfortable here and finding comfort elsewhere, somewhere more familiar, is a difficult task for her.-

RYAN: -she's hanging out at the counter again, poking at the remaining contents of a strawberry milkshake and being far less chatty than she was yesterday.-

SILVAH: -Given that there's not really much ON this station other than Skaianet research facilities, private research facilities and basically....the one resturaunt at least there's not much trouble Ryan can get up to up here. Silvah is just finishing cleaning and restoring his stocks from last night. He stayed up far too late and got a little drunk himself, but he's in good spirits. He's fairly sure the reopening was  rousing success and that he's gonna make back the money he spent on the deck. Big man is boppin with the radio as he works until he finally makes his way back behind the counter and sees Ryan there. His fins flick.-

SILVAH: Blondie!

SILVAH: I thought I made a regular outta you.

RYAN: -perks up, immediately putting on a smile when she hears his voice, but it's definitely half hearted.-

RYAN: naturally??? youve got some great vibes going on here. :blush:

SILVAH: I built it that way babycakes, but that don't mean it ain't nice to hear.

SILVAH: -starts restocking the baked goods displays as they chitchat.-

SILVAH: You had some pretty good vibes yourself last night. -Not so much today though, huh? He's peepin on her.-

RYAN: again. naturally! as a new regular youll soon discover im always the life of the party. :wink:  -leans on the counter, chin in her hand.- SILVAH: That's quite a claim. Maybe I should think about buyin a leaderboard. Huh huh.

SILVAH: Sure are cute though. Feel like I should be payin you to sit there and look pretty.

RYAN: well im not about to turn down that offer. :hugging: 

RYAN: ive got a pretty lengthy resume as a professional cutie. you wouldnt regret the decision.

SILVAH: Now, now. I'm not totally sold.  You strike me as a troublemaker too.

SILVAH: Acutally now that I'm thinkin about it, the round robin never made it to ya.

SILVAH: What's your story?

RYAN: :scream: 

RYAN: its not polite to ask a lady such questions...

RYAN: which is definitely NOT something a troublemaker would say. :thinking: SILVAH: Keepin it close to the vest I see. That's fine. I'll get it out of ya eventually.

SILVAH: Food is great at makin people talk. RYAN: -chinhands intensifies.- yeah? what do you find is the best thing to feed a person to get them to share their life story? SILVAH: Somethin' caffeinated.

SILVAH: I'll tell you what- I'm crossin strawberry milkshakes off the list as of today.

RYAN: -giggles. geez... it feels good to laugh.-

RYAN: okay fine. youve fed me enough lines to change my tune. :stuck_out_tongue: 

RYAN: youre right about me... i am a troublemaker. but im trying to cut back these days. SILVAH: -Seems satisfied at getting her to laugh. And to crack.-

SILVAH: Respect, little lady. It's not easy.

SILVAH: I'm also one of those.

RYAN: yeah? what are your vices?

RYAN: mine incluuuuude... -checks them off on her fingers as she says them in an attempt to keep it light.- running away. all manner of narcotics. and beautiful sad men and women that only break your heart.

RYAN: so you know. the standard really.

SILVAH: You're right. That is a hell of a resume. -Scratches under his  fat chin with Robut hand.-

SILVAH: Lesee....I'm right there with ya on runnin away. Dissapointin my family. Sexual deviancy. An you may have noticed that I like to eat a lil bit.

SILVAH: We already got the makins of a pretty good country song. Too bad that's not my favorite genre.

RYAN: hehehe. id love to inspire any kinda song really.

RYAN: but other than that it seems weve got a lot in common. -sips milkshake.-

RYAN: ive been... disappointing a lot of people for a long time. but i feel like i really dropped the fucking ball again recently. :weary:

SILVAH: -Now he's got both fins angled towards her.- You wanna get into it?

SILVAH: Don't gotta. But if you feel like you need to I have time.

SILVAH: That's how I got so fat. I'm full of secrets.

RYAN: -snickers and shrugs, swirling the straw around in the glass thoughtfully.- well... guess theres no harm in it.

RYAN: since youre being so nice and charming. :wink: 

RYAN: things have just been... i dunno.

RYAN: first i fell off the wagon.

RYAN: definitely disappointed my family... and probably my boyfriend. or like. whatever our deal even is. -sighs.-

RYAN: then my ex comes along and starts pulling some burn book bullshit... spilling all my secrets. pissing off my friends. making aforementioned romantic relationship all the more complicated. i think.

RYAN: ugh. -just sighs. it's hard to really dig deep when it's all so frustrating, so she just kinda slumps a little.-

SILVAH: Mm. Did ya say some things you regret?

RYAN: -nods slowly, pouting a little.-

RYAN: yeah. so much stupid shit.

RYAN: im trying to fix things but... i dont know--

RYAN: i dont know what im doing half the time.

SILVAH: -Pauses for a minuite, and while he's processing all the vibes he's picking up from her he's making himself look busy, which is something he's pretty practiced at by now.-

SILVAH: It's not the easy route. It's easier to keep cuttin out. Start over somewhere where they don't know ya. But that would be a waste in the long run.

SILVAH: If you keep tryin eventually they'll see the effort and appreciate it. Even if you're graspin at straws and you say all the wrong shit. RYAN: -peers up at him, finding that answer... strangely comforting. she gets the sense he understands. maybe because of his own experiences, or just because he's used to dealing with sad sacks like her. it was kind of a cliche. in any case, she's quiet for a moment as she thinks it all over too. her voice is a little hushed when she does speak, a bit embarrassed by admitting the things she is... but knowing full well she needs to say it.-

RYAN: i feel like my efforts are pushing him away.

RYAN: alienating him cuz he feels guilty too. hes always stuck in his own head.

  RYAN: i think he feels like hes not good enough. but i dont really get it. im the one who kept running away.

RYAN: he never did anything wrong. at least i dont think he did. it just-- a shitty time. and i dunno if its ever gonna pass so long as im around to remind him that-- fuck.

RYAN: -puts her head in her hand with a sigh.- sorry im not making sense anymore.

SILVAH: -Frowns as he takes this in, and at the same time takes in extra information. All her good intentions, the desperation that go along with them.- Y'know most of the time tryin to anticipate what someone's gonna do or why they feel the way they feel is real misleadin. Unless you have a real blunt discussion about it, you could never know. You might've fucked up, but it don't mean every bad thing that person's feelin is your fault.

SILVAH: The stuff you can pin down as yours is what you should concentrate on, is what I'm sayin.

RYAN: -peers up from behind her hand, eyes glossy with sadness but... there's some hope too. she laughs a little, trying not to seem too broken up about the stuff going on in her head.-

RYAN: i hear you.

RYAN: i just...

RYAN: wanna know im making someone happy for once.

RYAN: you know?

SILVAH: -She seems so vulnerable, it almost hurts to look. They're barely acquaintances at this point, but he doesn't care, he's gonna lightly reach out and touch her hand with his non robotic one.- You got yourself a super acheivable goal there, blondie. I think you're gonna be ok.

SILVAH: -Backs it up with a warm smile too. Believe him. He belives in you!-

RYAN: -well... it's hard not to smile when it feels like someone believes in you. and for some reason, in this moment she kind of believes it too. she doesn't mind the touch. she welcomes it in fact, feeling a little bit touch starved lately.-

RYAN: ill definitely be okay if i keep coming back for these milkshakes...

SILVAH: Hah! You think I'm gonna let you keep orderin just milkshakes.

SILVAH: -Pats her hand, gives it a gentle little squeeze and then releases her.-

RYAN: -giggles again. what a big softie...- i thought the customer was always right???? rude ass...

SILVAH: -Laughs with her. Huh huh huh.- I'mma personally fight whoever came up with that horse shite. The customer ain't right even half the time, let alone always.

SILVAH: This is the only place in the goddamn world where I control everythin. It ain't a fuckin democracy.

RYAN: -snorts and then full on cackles.- geez!!! then i guess ill have to refer to your expert opinion every day im here. :wink:

  SILVAH:  Heh heh. S'long as its real food some of the time I'll be a happy clam.