Partners in Crime till’ the Day we Die #2
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
Chapter two: Debts to be Paid
fandom : red dead redemption online & 2 pairing : sean macguire x f!reader word count : ~4,400 rating : mature warnings : minor coarse language, mentions of hanging and murder, opening spoilers for red dead online, gunfight/gun violence, stabbing summary : you learn more about your conviction and team up with an unexpected supporter, who brings you back on your feet in exchange for help taking down a mutual foe. leading you to start your first mission.
a/n : hii againn ! im back with a second chapter, which is significantly longer lol 🎉 again, thank you sososo MUCH for supporting my story and choosing to read it, it baffles me people actually go out their way to 😭 this chapter is also just story and lore, plus a mission !! i want this story to go slow and really go in depth with the background story before the romance 😻 so sean will be coming in later chapters <3 when he comes be ready for some good slow burn !!! — also the songs at some sections are what i imagine to play during those scenes so u can play them when u read <33
tag list : @heloixe @m1stea
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
“Hello. Jessica LeClerk, how do you do?” The well groomed lady greets well mannered, her voice velvety and of high status as you and Horley walk up. She adjusted her seating; turning around in her comfortable, red desk chair. Sat at her embellished desk under some tent cover to shield her work space from the harsh desert sun. She was sure wealthy, and rich enough to have this clean, expensively furnished camp in the middle of Tumbleweed. Not to mention her pomaded, sleek, platinum hair; untouched by the surrounding environment and clothes without a single wrinkle.
So, this is the lady Mr. Horley lead you to meet at this pompous camp? Your mind practically swirled with questions, but you decided to be polite for once in a long while and wait until the appropriate time. Well, you had all the time in the world considering you’re freshly out of prison with nowhere to go.
But, before you could introduce yourself once again, she spoke. “What did you tell her?” Turning her attention to Mr. Horley. Facing back towards her neat workspace to supposedly organise her things back up to properly get up and greet you.
“Nothing. As we discussed.” Horley confirms with professionalism, taking a glance at you and back at Ms. LeClerk. She thanks him with a nod, moving up from her seat and swiftly makes her way towards you. Her shined shoes clacking and clicking on the wood planks below with each step. You were basically aching with questions still unanswered, examining every detail of Ms. LeClerk as if to fully grasp any information possible in this confusing situation.
“I do hope we haven’t inconvenienced you dreadfully… but seeing as you were due to be hanged in a week, I’m sure you don’t object too strongly.” She spoke with a huff, stopping in front of you. “I know you’re innocent— well, not perhaps exactly innocent… but not guilty of what you were accused.” LeClerk explained, you nodded along to her speech.
You were glad at the very least some people knew you didn’t commit what you were said to. But, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you weren’t particularly broken out legally and now surely some people are looking for you. Still, better than awaiting your death, though. Moreover, being broke out ‘legally’ doesn’t really swing right with you anyway. Previous to your conviction, you stole various horses under an unknown alias, ‘The Scarlet Cavalier of New Austin’ they called you; since you always wore that iconic red bandana you wore when stealing in the dead of night. Other than horse fencing, you pickpocketed and committed other small crimes to get by, that would’ve had you at the same penitentiary without this false accusation in the first place. So, you shouldn’t really be fussing about, considering that.
“I know you and those who were with you that died…” She continued, Horley going off some place else in camp. “were a little more than patsies, and that you were set up by one of three men, or a woman— possibly by all of them.” Ms. LeClerk sighs, you couldn’t help but think of why these criminals accused you for the crime they committed. Was it personal? Was it just because you were there and it was easy to lay the blame on you? Whatever it was, Mr. Horley and this Jessica LeClerk knew way more than you did. So, you decided you ought to listen rather than bombard with questions. “But that is all I know so far.” She finishes, her hands clasped together in front of her.
Horley walks up again, chiming in. “And one of these people also made Mrs. LeClerk a widow.” He added, turning his gaze to LeClerk again as she stared at you with determined eyes.
“And I will avenge my husband’s death, so help me God.” She said sharply, she sounded awfully vengeful, and rightfully so. “But I will not avenge it upon them who did not cause it…” Her gaze softened as she turned to face you again. “Or caused it unwillingly.” She sighed.
It seemed like she was one of the only ones who had any reasoning in this whole situation. Despite serving a greater loss than any lawman or law giver that put you to prison for, ‘justice’.
“Anyway, I’m sure this is all a touch confusing and melodramatic.” She shakes her head gently, fixing herself up before starting again.
“Uh, where are my manners?” She scolded herself. “Horley, please show our guest to their tent and— give them some fresh clothes to put on.” She instructs, telling Horley to serve you both refreshments afterwards. Horley doing so and leading you to a large, dusty green tent.
“You’ll find a change of clothes in there, alongside a few other items you might need— a lasso, a knife and a lantern, I believe.” He wavers you off before walking back to attended to something else an assistant would; you walking over to the gestured tent to change out of that awful striped uniform that made your blood boil whenever you looked down to see it— reminding you of the wrongful conviction you were served.
Walking into the tent, you moved your eyes to a clothing chest on the ground. Opening the brass latch, neatly folded clothing sat inside. You hummed to yourself as you look through your options. But, what caught your eye laid on top. An, albeit— worn, woven poncho. The design’s pattern was striped in colours of black, ivory-beige and terracotta red. It reminded you so much of the poncho you wore all the time back when you were a young girl living around Rio Bravo with your family in a small homestead. You remember getting it from your grandmother who passed awhile back. It was all too familiar.
You immediately take the poncho in your hands, bringing it up and opening it to inspect it. Perfect. You set it aside on the ground, digging around the wooden chest for the essentials. Eventually, finding a dark grey, striped button up and a pair of really nice, black, bandito, leather pants. Somewhere deep in the bottom of the chest had some suspenders and black riding gloves which you happily slipped on with the other clothing items. Finally, adorning a pair of dirty, black boots and collecting the items Horley told you to get.
Opening the canvas flaps of the tent, you make your way back to Mrs. LeClerk under that same tented area she was sat in. Still busy writing something and doing some sort of important work you assume.
“The clothes are nice. Lot of options there.” You smile gratefully. Still looking down at the new outfit you’re wearing; pleased that you’re not in an itchy, striped jumpsuit for once.
She turns in her seat again, gazing at your new attire you picked out. “Well, that looks more comfortable.” She nods with approval, before turning back. “Horley.” She acknowledges as Horley comes back with a tray holding two, well crafted glasses of some sort of undisclosed alcohol. Seeming like maybe a wine.
“Here, madam.” Mr. Horley presents the tray to you, you gladly take the glass in your hand and thank him. Mrs. LeClerk gets up from her seat once again to walk back up to where you and Horley stand.
“Your very good health. I suppose it beats dying, hm?” She comments, taking her glass from the tray between her fingers and taking a sip, her red lipstick staining the glass. You also take a sip, the rich, drying liquid graces your tongue, as it slides down your throat. You hadn’t had a drink, let alone alcohol in a while; it was quite refreshing.
As the two of you finish your sip, Horley begins to elaborate more on the situation. Explaining how Mrs. LeClerk’s husband was murdered by one of his business partners; Mrs. LeClerk chiming in, stating how she intends for you to find out who killed her husband— and pay them the same medicine. An assassin? A mercenary? You weren’t quite so sure, but what you did know, you intend to exact revenge. Because this husband-killer, was most likely the same one who framed you. Moreover, you had a debt to pay for Mrs. Jessica LeClerk and her assistant, Horley, for breaking you out.
She began again, “You’re the only person I could possibly trust… to do whatever it takes.” You nod, sure, you’ve done crimes in the past before being sent to prison; but, you haven’t killed anyone— on purpose. Well… maybe a few. Whatever it was, you’ll do it.
“Because, you and your accomplices— you’re the only other victim of their lies still alive.” She sighs, moving over to a round table next to her tented desk area, you and Horley following. “You see… you walked into that town at approximately the same time my husband was shot in the back, but by another gun.” She elaborated, setting herself down on a chair at that round table, placing her glass down.
You listened intently, trying to not miss a detail in her explanation. Continuing to nod your head to the appropriate times and sipping on the wine in your hand.
“Firing the same bullets to those you possessed, when you were arrested. These bullets.” She opens a small ammo box on the table, laying three of the rounds in her palm. Your eyebrows furrowed in response. Connecting the dots with each piece of information revealed by LeClerk. “This was their mistake.” She swiftly placed the bullets back into the ammo box and shut it. “You were rounded up and sentenced to death, all because you came to town and didn’t talk too much and seemed like you were nasty.” She retold, handing the ammo box to Horley as he hastily takes it away and returns with three cards in hand.
You still remember that day as clear as a summers day in Armadillo. Blackwater. It was the early afternoon as you rode into town, hopping off your horse and planning to make your way to the gunsmith and buy some new rounds— maybe pickpocket a few unsuspecting people here and there. And of course that unfolded. What if you never rode into town that day? You think of that every day. But, regret waits for no one. That’s something you always lived by. You guess you picked that up from your grandmother. Always teaching you that notion, not knowing what you would apply that to if she were here now.
Mrs. LeClerk shows you the cards, each one actually being a photo portrait of each person who conspired in her husband’s death.
“Mr. Jeremiah Shaw. Banker, real estate speculator, and crook.” She sets the card in between her index and thumb, pulling out another. “Mr. Amos Lancing. Ranch owner, speculator, and crook.” Stacking the photo on top the other. “Mrs, Grace Lancing, his wife. Society patroness, lover of the arts, crook… and my former best friend.” She wavers her hand at that statement, passing you each photo card as you also inspect them, trying to remember their faces and take as good of a look you could.
“Teddy Brown, her disgraced brother. Outlaw, wanted man and still in contact with them.” She hands you the last photo, looking back up to you. “All I ask of you is your help in finding out quite what happened.” She finishes, taking her glass and sipping the red wine out of it.
Horley walks back over, taking the photo cards from your hand, and replacing it with a warm metal bowl of stew. “Mrs. LeClerk would like to help you get back on your feet… get back to work.” Leaving again to presumably put away the photos.
“Whatever your work may be, I don’t judge” Mrs. LeClerk adds, whilst you take a spoonful of warm stew. One of your first real meals in a long while. The meaty flavour tasting divine— though anything would at this point. Swallowing as the warmth meets your stomach.
“Well, that’s a good thing.” You chuckle slightly to yourself, shaking your head softly and taking another spoon of gamey stew. Before seating yourself on the chair opposite Mrs. LeClerk and placing your bowl of stew down on the table.
She breaths with amusement before starting again. “You wanna rob? Rob. You wanna save innocent folk? Do that as well.” She says almost like a philosopher, which you could believe by the way she said it. “But you need me as much as I need you. I think we all understand each other.” She ends, resting her arms on the table as Horley enters once more.
“I hope we do.” He agrees, standing beside Mrs. LeClerk.
You nod, “I think we do.” an almost determined glint in your eyes that seemed to be transferred from her. A small, pleased smile draws on her well kept face.
“Good.” She breathes, clearly pleased as you finish up your stew and both of you get back on your feet, out of your seats, slowly walking to her tented workplace and stopping. “I look forward to rewarding you for killing those who made me a widow.” She ends, before going on about her husband. How he was a believer in the West and how he was killed by greed. Her tone reminiscent and solemn as she spoke about her late husband. It seemed she loved him a lot.
“I don’t care what your scruples are as to killing. I will take the full burden of that upon my shoulders.” She declares, her voice turning determined once again, you could practically feel the burgeoning flame radiating off her. She meant it. Truely. “Goodbye. For now.” Mrs. LeClerk concludes, turning around and walking back to her desk, stoping in her tracks and turning to Horley. “Then Horley, go introduce her to nice Mr Cripps.” She directs, turning around finally as Horley nods, turning the opposite direction and gesturing you to follow.
“I think you’ll like Cripps well enough. He’s long past his prime of course, but uh… he hasn’t gone entirely crazy just yet.” He jokes, though you’re not sure if he was actually or not. “And he will help you, better than most of his ilk.” He walks you to an half open tented area, seemingly an area for crates and what not. An old, grey bearded, bald man with scruffy clothes lays against the various barrels, crates and jugs, eyes closed. Seemingly resting or sleeping.
“Cripps.” Horley awakens the old man and he jolts awake slightly, blinking his eyes open. “Get up.” Horley helps Cripps on his feet, pulling him from his seated position on the ground as he greets you.
“Hello partner’, Horley.” Cripps chuckles, his voice gruff and friendly.
Horley introduces, “This is your new boss.” signalling to Crips than to you. Cripps spits in his gloved hand and sticks it out.
“Pleased to meet ya’ partner.” He greets, awaiting a handshake. He acted significantly more down-to-earth compared to both Mrs. LeClerk and Mr. Horley; though their intentions were the same. You take his hand wearily, trying to keep the grip as weak as possible. Though, Cripps grabs your hand firmly and shakes it, finally letting go as you quietly wipe your hand on your pants. Glad you had gloves on. “Cripps at yer’ service.”
“Pleased to meet you, Cripps.” You introduce yourself, nodding of acknowledgment at the welcoming man.
Horley steps in, “We’ll pay to get your camp established. Mrs. LeClerk is a generous benefactor.” He relays.
“Good to know— thank you.” You smile, grateful for the three of them taking you in and helping you back on your feet. Even if it was only for the unfortunate situation.
“And, uh— where we headin’?” Cripps queries, handing over a slightly stained map to you.
Unrolling the map, you peer at the options. But one area catches your eye before any other place on that map. A secluded area in Cholla Springs, New Austin. Just west of Lake Don Julio and South of Armadillo. It just so happened to also be on the border of Rio Bravo, where you grew up. You also happened to camp there before, when you were all over New Austin just before you got sent to Sisika. Fencing horses, accidentally getting into gunfights when you were caught pickpocketing, the whole lot; you camped out there. It was like home.
You place your finger west of Lake Don Julio on the the map. “How about here?” You suggest, looking up at the two of them.
“You like the desert I see.” Cripps jokes, nodding his head to the location.
You grin back, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “Grew up there, course’, it’s like my home.” Closing the map and handing it back to Cripps.
“Oh, and, uh, madam. While Cripps is establishing your camp… perhaps you could go to the station and see the clerk. Then head to see Clay Davies.” Horley advices. “He’s a horse thief—“
Clay Davies. How could you ever forget. You sold horses to them frequently since they were convenient. But god, they were unreasonable. Always knowing that you couldn’t sell anywhere else and getting the most sleaziest of deals from the two twins. Goddamn bastards.
“Yeah… I know the guy. Not a particularly nice one.” You respond, resting your hands on your hips as you are reminded of him. Your face ever so slightly sour, shaking your head.
“I see you already know him well.” Horley states, pausing for a second before starting again. “Then meet Cripps back at your camp.” He glances at you, then at Cripps. Finishing his directions.
“See ya’ shortly, boss.” Cripps signs off, saluting his hand as he walks away, swiftly getting to work. You nod him off as Horley wishes you good luck. And you’ll surely need it.
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓆈 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
You sigh as silently as possible to yourself, clutching your old cattleman revolver, hiding behind a large rock lodged in the sandy dirt. A camp is before you— only a few feet away behind that rock you’re posted behind; housing a gang which you were sent by a post office clerk to take down as your first job.
The post office clerk’s name was Alden, a pretty shady fellow; you couldn’t tell if he was law abiding or not. But, he did tell you to murder a whole gang in Gaptooth Ridge because they’ve been causing trouble by stealing the post office’s stagecoaches. So, he isn’t particularly the most righteous clerk you’ve met. Though, the mission was for a good cause, and a fair amount of money too. Still, not really all that ethical. But— since when were you ethical?
He was definitely a strange one. Said something about not confiding with woman, but you seemed alright so he didn’t make a fuss. It’s not like killing was a gendered job anyway. Pretty alright guy except for that; gave you a handheld copy of the latest catalog. The shiny blue, Wheeler and Rawson cover was sure something to your eyes that were always used to dirt and weathered whatnot.
Nevertheless, you need to focus. Taking out a whole gang by yourself wasn’t going to be easy. Specially since you were pretty rusty since your last gunfight. That in account, you decided to go in stealthily— instead of all ‘guns a blazing’ like a crazed harlot in a saloon.
You peep your eyes out to the side of the rock, sandy dust particles floating in the air and hazing your vision. Most of the gang was around a put out campfire, some also walk around and doing chores. You manage to peer clearly at a gang member walking off to a somewhat secluded spot at a dense shrub. Pulling his fly down and revealing himself. The perfect kill presenting itself fresh on a platter for you.
Taking a deep breath of arid air in, you pull out your knife in a swift motion from your gun belt, the motion emitting a small ‘shing’ whilst you slowly creep out your hiding spot, crouching ever so slightly towards him. You were now inches behind him, and you weren’t going to wait and find out when he’s going to finish and turn around. Wrapping your arms hastily around his neck and muffling his mouth, feeling him struggle against your body as you shank him in the neck, turning limp; falling to the ground with the smallest thud masked by the sandy dirt below. You had to move fast now before they saw the body of their accomplice’s.
You briskly move behind a supply wagon, peaking over the corner and seeing a gang member walking around with a sack in his hands. Seemingly walking straight for the wagon you were covering your position at. They all just keep falling into place.
He makes his way around, you spring out and make the same work on him. The wheat sack falling on top of the body as he falls over with another thud. Two down, three more to go. The three left were spread out, though two of them were in the open and could spot each other and you if you tried anything sneaky. You decide to go for the last one that was isolated, behind the other wagon on the other side of the camp. But, this was a pretty open plain in the desert. There was no way for you to get to the other side without being spotted clear as day by the other two.
There was one way possible though. Another large rock sat behind a gang member who was just standing there. If you somehow were able to go around him behind that rock and go around again, you could be golden. But, it was a slim chance.
You go for it, upholstering your Cattleman just in case you were spotted and things got out of hand. Holding your breath, your heart was pounding hard. A bead of sweat ran down your forehead— whether that was the blistering hot weather or your nervousness, you couldn’t tell. You book it. Gritting your teeth and crouch-running your way in the open, praying to whatever god in the sky that you weren’t spotted. But, I guess those prayers didn’t reach as high as you hoped.
“Hey! Intruder!” The gang member roared, whipping around and equipping his pistol from his gun belt with earned practice, aiming straight for you. The other guy yelled something incoherent, both their voice hostile as the other one behind the wagon you originally went for, pops out and shouts a curse you couldn’t hear over the gunshots. Gunshots. Great.
The prayers did reach high enough for the first shots not to hit you, as you practically roll back behind that same rock and began shooting. God, you haven’t felt this in a while. This rush. The adrenaline coursing through your veins as your eyes narrow in, slamming the hammer of the revolver down and pulling the warm, metal trigger each time with a satisfying bang. Feeling the machinery recoil against your palm, a body shooting back in pain, the bullet you fire piercing through their chest as they fall to the ground with a shot. That’s one down, two to go.
You grunt, reloading your revolver you stupidly forgot to reload at the start. Before sticking your gun out again and aiming, your eyes narrowing in and firing straight into the enemy’s head, the body falling to its knees and flopping face first into the dirt. Pretty fine shot for being rusty.
Pulling the hammer down, you grit your teeth even harder than before, cursing as you pull the trigger, pointed at the last guy’s skull. “Bastards—“ you swear through gritted teeth, biting the inside of your lower lip as the bullet goes racing into the last one’s head with a final bang.
You pant, the adrenaline and your heart’s beats become slower, calming to a manageable pace. Holstering your revolver and getting up from your crouched position behind that rock, dusting your knees and walking into the middle of the camp. Glancing around at the place, before looting a few tonics and provisions from a table.
Unexpectedly, you hear a voice stutter out from a tent to your left, tucking the loot away into your satchel and stepping cautiously towards the tent, upholstering your revolver once more and wearily aim it towards the moving flaps.
“Okay… okay… you’re good…” The stray gang member steps out the tent with his hands up in front of him. His tone cautious with a hint of fear in his eyes.
“Don’t try anything funny.” You menace, glaring at the last remaining guy— unless there’s other cowards left in the other tents you don’t know of. You gesture the barrel of your gun to his body as he continues making small moments out the tent; his hands still not reaching.
“Y-you’re real good, friend.” He stutters, cautious and trying his best not to get shot like his friends. “Here— take this… it’s a map… just… be kind… don’t kill me, please?” He practically begs, slowly but steadily pulling out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.
You raise an eyebrow, you weren’t cold blooded. And you definitely weren’t going to kill this man who doesn’t want to kill you— even though that’s what Alden instructed. Killing a man begging for this life is wrong, it takes a different level of heartlessness that you do not possess. You’re not evil. You promised yourself that.
Lowering the gun, you place it back into your holster and snatch the paper from the man’s hand. “What is this? Map for what?” You demand firmly, tucking it in your back pocket and crossing your arms in front of you.
“It’s— it’s a treasure map… just… thank you!” The last bandit shouts with a strange mix of thankfulness, fear, and relief. Running off to who knows where. Just far away from you— you suppose.
You just shake your head and scoff softly out of disbelief, setting your hands on your hips and turning around. Gazing at the scene around you. Your eyes are drawn to the golden sun now transitioning into a warm orange, ever so gently beginning to set on the vast lands of New Austin. A large eagle flies overhead, sawing through the clear skies and towards the horizon. The arid air kissing your face as you let out a long sigh.
This will be a long one. A long what? Who knows. But this, this will be a journey— a long one.
꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓅃 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ
THANK YOU FOR READINGGG !! i hope the writing in this wasn’t too boring 😭 im honestly surprising myself with how much i written so it might not be amazing quality (especially since i wrote most of it at 3am) but i hope you still managed to enjoy ❤️❤️
