Chapter Text
The awfully loud thunk of a boot hitting partially rotting wood was the first sound Kieran Duffy awoke to. Gaining his newly-awoken composure, he blinked a couple times at the sunlight and looked up to see Dutch Van der Linde standing above him, hands behind his back.
“Wake up, Colm’s boy.” Dutch said, sternly, baring his teeth as he spoke. Kieran slowly got up from the floor of the deteriorating Shady Belle house. He’d been with the Van Der Linde gang for around 3 seasons now; with the colder days of summer starting to kick in now. While he’d been through a lot with the gang, he was still generally on his own and often doing chores out of fear he needed to make up for just simply being associated with Colm O’Driscoll. He had definitely been promoted, as he no longer was forced to sleep outside without a cot. He now had a floor of a house, something that was genuinely good when everything else hurt.
“I’m up, Mister Dutch- I’m n-not in trouble, right?” He stammered as he faced his superior, adjusting his necktie and putting on his hat.
“No, boy, you’re not in trouble.” Dutch put a hand to his forehead in bleak annoyance, softening his words. “Pearson made more coffee than usual for the trip today and we need someone to drink it before it’s stale.” Dutch was usually the last person to talk to Kieran, and actively almost avoided him. It had been debated whether it was cruelty or an inability to let himself integrate the stable boy into the gang- but most would say a mix of both. With Arthur and John already ridden off to Saint Denis, Dutch was just about to leave. The disappearance of Jack had a perk in that it brought the gang closer together, and it was clear that Kieran was finally getting acknowledged.
“I’d be okay with that, thank you Dutch- uh, Sir. Mister.” He offered a weak smile and Dutch walked away instantly, getting onto his horse and speeding away within minutes. Kieran proceeded to walk forward into the camp, watching as the various members kept to themselves and worked on their own. He always did the same whenever he passed by them; eyes forward, mouth shut, and to expect whatever bad comment would be said. Of course a majority were much nicer now, but he wasn’t willing to trust so easily. As he walked to the campfire, he found the pot of aforementioned coffee, now lukewarm and only a mud-covered mug left to drink from. He attempted to clean the mug the best he could with the sleeve of his denim jacket, and poured the blissful drink; thankful he was able to get some. He then walked to one of the sitting logs and looked down as he drank. He took the time to reminisce about Sean, who would have been laughing at him and making his usual jabs; a good person to sit with in the mornings despite the hostility. But Sean was gone, and horses, while good and kind company, could not talk.
He eyed over at Mary-Beth who he’d been awfully sweet on recently and made sure to stare for not more than five seconds. The two of them had absolutely talked more than enough, and it had been simple conversations, really. His bashful stammering and her collective responses back. He knew that she was very aware of his feelings but he could not genuinely tell if she would reciprocate. She was kind and very considerate towards him, but he watched her dance with Arthur at Sean’s arrival party. It was friendly, but, it did admittedly hurt a bit to see. He gave another look at her and she looked up from her book just in time to meet his eyes. He offered a smile and raised his cup at her and she smiled back as well before getting her eyes back down at her book.
Mary-Beth, on the other hand, did like Kieran. She couldn’t bring herself to say it quite as forward as he could, but she always found herself a bit preoccupied with where he was everyday. She hoped nobody noticed when she’d peer out from her tent to watch him wash the horses or when he’d clean around everyone’s camp areas for them. She also got to the point of writing about him. Only small, insignificant passages about how softly he spoke or how flattering he was to her. She couldn’t bring herself to outright confess it though; Karen, Tilly, and especially Miss Grimshaw would never give her any approval towards Kieran and she risked a lowered reputation from the Gang.
This was all it was; a constant cycle of 5 sentence conversations daily and gazes that never broke out of seconds long.
Kieran messed with the mug in his hands and finished off his coffee, thanking Pearson who then made a comment about how he wasn’t even the one who made it. He stood there awkwardly for a bit, making another short gaze at Mary-Beth before continuing on for a day of chores.
EVENING
It was in the middle of gathering hay to feed the horses for dinner that the camp became a place of joy. Kieran watched as John, Arthur, Dutch, and little Jack came gallantly into Shady Belle, cheering and yelling words of absolute pride. Abigail was crying her tears of joy and Javier erupted into song and liquor was given to any man available. Kieran was smiling and feeling as much happiness as everyone else but- this joy didn’t belong to him. He was the one that originally saw the Braithwaites come in late in the night and did not even think of what was at hand. Since then, he blamed himself for the abduction of Jack, even if he in no way had a single ounce to do with it. All he could think about is how Arthur and John cleaned up the pain he involuntarily caused Abigail. He watched the multiple star-eyed faces as they sang, drops of beer and whiskey flying in all directions and the guitar ringing out into the night. They eventually just became blurred forms as he drowned out his surroundings and his invasive thinking kicked in.
Almost as a way to calm his mind, a few drinks got downed by the anxious wreck of a man and he continued to stand by Pearson’s wagon. As he stared up into the stars for a good deal of time, Arthur and Karen asked him to join in the fun and he declined, already overwhelmed by the noise and fun. He would never be a Van Der Linde boy, no matter what actions he could take for the gang. The alcohol was making his thoughts rise up worse than before and the memories of Colm’s berating statements and moderate abuse kicked in. It was becoming too much and he stumbled away, passing the gazebo at the edge of camp. He stood at the back of it, looking into the dark forest. He had every opportunity to run and leave and not be involved with a place that still didn’t quite feel like home. He never had a home since his parents died and he was unsure what his definition of it was anymore. He began to take off when he heard a voice to the right.
“Kieran!”
Kieran stopped in his tracks, almost even falling into the mud, and looked to see Mary-Beth peering out the side of the gazebo. She stared at him, wide-eyed in the light of a lantern, and gave an expression of worry. He instantly straightened his back and stuttered. “I-I’m sorry. I’m just- Too much to drink.” He started trying to shuffle into the house but she caught up to him. “Please stop walking away. I just want to make sure you’re dandy.”
He gave a loud exhale and looked past her. “I’m fine- I ain’t been drinking this much in a while.” He would have walked away at this point but he decided to just stay a bit longer in the conversation. “Why ain’t you with the camp? Jack’s back.” She laughed a bit and pushed back a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I know he’s back, and Abigail’s kid is a nice one, but I have not much of a reason to celebrate. I don’t talk to her as much as you may think.” She then took his hand and walked him back to the gazebo. “And I was just over there! Only came in to sing for one song. I thought it’d be a good time to write after I got my fun out.” She sat down on a bench and gave a few light pats to the spot next to her which he nervously took. “And it’s a nice night to let my mind kind...of wander.” Mary-Beth's words trailed off and she couldn't keep herself away from looking at his shaking form.
Kieran’s heart was already racing at the contact she gave him and he couldn’t do anything but nod as he listened to her and his hands shook a bit. As he sat down, he tried what he could to calm down and pray in his head the alcohol would wear off soon. Kieran was not much of a drinker, and probably drank the most in his life as soon as he joined the Van Der Linde Gang. In the past, it always kept him nervous and panicked and he’d sleep it off at any given opportunity. “I see.” He mumbled, unsure why she didn’t want to have just as much fun as Karen and Tilly were having. “I’m sorry, Mary-Beth- I’m drunk and I didn’t mean to interrupt-”
He got cut off by a warm laugh from her side and she picked up a piece of parchment from one of the gazebo walls. “You couldn’t have bothered me when I just finished writing. If anything, you gave me a fright!” She lifted her hands up to make the gesture of being spooked and he laughed and smiled, genuinely glad he didn’t do anything that wrong. Mary-Beth proceeded to bring her lantern forward and read a passage from her story.
'It was in the glow of the moonlight that young Penelope saw him come in on horseback. His steed bucked and the thick black locks she loved so dearly fell into his face. He yelled out gallantly in the warm summer night, “I realize I can’t leave unless you promise you’ll wait for me. I could be fighting in this army for a decade, my love!’ The woman could only run toward him with her arms open. ‘All I can ever dream of is a life with you, Alexander. That summer house in Georgia will be waiting for you, no matter how many years you leave me.’
Kieran was quiet for a few moments, but spoke excitedly. “That was nice, Mary-Beth. I- I’ve ain’t really known how you can...sorta-” He made gestures with his hands as he spoke. “-Write these people like they’re real.”
Mary-Beth felt herself blush and she instantly folded the paper away, putting it back onto the edge of the wall. “I don’t think it’s talent… I think I just tend to notice how the lovers are in my books I read. There’s always a dashing rogue and a goddess-like woman that loves him- and I know that it ain’t exactly true to real life, but I love it. It’s silly, but it gives me hope.” She noticed that Kieran’s eyes grew a bit saddened and she continued talking. “But- when we get you to read you can see what I mean! Romance isn’t a man’s genre but it might be all we have around here for now! I promise you, Kieran, the camp is going to help you.”
Kieran leaned in and knew Mary-Beth was being honest and kind, and he understood that she would most likely be the only one tolerant enough to teach him to see the world as beautifully as she does. It felt like bliss right now in the air between them, but the music dying down and the addition of the alcohol was still telling him to leave and get out of this place for the good sake of everyone. He started to get up again and nearly walked out but felt a soft, firm grip on his wrist. “I should leave.” He said very softly, but did not struggle to get away.
“I don’t want you to. I know you’re scared of everyone. But, I think the hurting days are over. You went fishing with Arthur recently, right? He’s becoming more welcoming.” She was starting to feel hints of worry in her chest.
Kieran couldn’t get himself away from that one image of Arthur and Mary-Beth dancing months ago. “He’s got life better than me. He and everyone else are better than me.”
She got rid of the grip on his wrist and instead took both of his hands into hers. “Nobody is- Well. Kieran.” She brought their intertwined hands close to her chest. “I don’t want you to say words like that. You’re not what you used to be.”
The former O’Driscoll looked her in the eyes. “What if I never become one of you?” He said in a downcast tone.
“You will.” She gave a genuine smile and averted their eyes towards the quieter party of the camp; members stumbling into beds and the fire glowing in the night. “There’s something I should say now.”
Kieran’s breathing hitched and he unconsciously gripped her hands a bit tighter.
“I was going to talk to Arthur about it in a few days. I know I should have talked to the girls first, but he’s the only one who understands what I’m feeling.” There was a long silence for a while and Kieran’s heart dropped in his chest, as he could only predict the next words. Mary-Beth was going to say what he expected. She loved Arthur and was trusting Kieran enough to tell him first. The darkness of the forest felt more and more comforting with every second that went by. “I...I feel wonderful around you, Kieran. You take time out of these days to talk and don’t ever raise your voice at me when I keep to myself. I know you’ve said things before but I think I’m ready to say that you’ve made me a very happy woman.”
Kieran’s eyes crinkled in joy and he automatically fell into her arms, hugging her.
“Oh!” She said with a bit of a laugh and he pulled away instantly. “Sorry, sorry, sorry Miss Gaskill, sorry I-”
The two of them were interrupted by an unnaturally loud clap of thunder and rain instantly poured around the camp. They both looked at another and looked away again.
“That rain ain’t good.” Kieran stated, laughing incredibly awkwardly and pulling his hat further down on his head.
“It’s probably about time to sleep, isn’t it?” Mary-Beth responded instantly, streaks of red going across her very freckled face.
“I suppose.” Kieran responded back, his forget-me-not blue eyes watching as Mary-Beth picked up her inkwell, writing, and lantern from the area and began to walk out of the gazebo. He then unconsciously then found himself running ahead to give her a hand in walking down the steps. She reacted to the kind gesture with a very sincere smile and a small wave. “Goodnight, Kieran,” she said before stepping through the mud to get to her tent.
“Goodnight, Mary-Beth,” he replied, a warmth spreading throughout his heart as he walked into the house for a good night’s rest.