gold n guns

The full moon casts her glow down on the mountainous terrain of Roanoke Ridge, luminous streams of light breaking through the treetops and giving the surrounding wood a ghostly atmosphere encroached by darkness. Smoke pipes from the small chimney of Madam Nazar's cabin settled next to the roaring water spilling over Brandywine Drop. Inside, lanterns sit around the living space with a small fire crackling in the fireplace. Blackjack curled up in front of it to keep warm from the harsh winds that whip along the outside of the cabin. The home creaks and groans with each heavy gust that passes through.

Bonnie, Clyde, Nazar and Cripps all sit at the kitchen table in complete silence for a few minutes. Clyde's hand laying palm up atop of the gentle grasp of Nazar's hand across from him as she studies the lines and scars, pale eyes searching over each crease and groove.

Clyde would've found it amusing in any other instance, as he would've many things when it came to the gypsy.. but he'd thought about her reaction toward him the entire way to drop off goods at Wallace Station and back. Wondered what exactly it was she saw whenever she'd looked at him.

Bonnie had been unnerved by the ordeal as well; now made aware that his refusal to speak about the nightmares he'd been having were nothing to do with the chaos that had taken place down in Vanhorn, and rather some shadowy figure that both Clyde and Nazar were familiar with. One that she clearly had the luxury of never encountering herself.

Clyde had at least finally explained to her what he'd dreamed about; the entity presenting itself as a gentleman in all black and a top hat. Even the thought of what he'd described to her sent a chill up her spine and caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

She hadn't even seen the man in black.. but the mental picture her mind painted of him was enough to cause a heavy feeling of uneasy to settle deep within her stomach, and concern for Clyde. Had Nazar not made any mention of the figure, Bonnie might've thought Clyde had finally snapped under pressure from all the stress.

"Oh I see.." Madam Nazar finally speaks softly, cutting through the silence that had fallen over them. "Hm.."

She lifts her eyes to find Clyde's dark gaze watching her intently.

"What.." Clyde asks, his voice low yet laced with apprehension. Cripps and Bonnie's gaze shifts between the two.

"The dark man puts his mark on those who are close to death, my dear.. I am afraid that on your part you have delivered it, so now death.. follows you."

"What's that mean..?" Bonnie questions quickly, worry flooding her voice as Clyde glances over at her.

Madam Nazar looks over at her, her gaze returning to Clyde as she releases his hand and leans back in her chair to look between them. "The dark man is testing Clyde. He knows all, he sees all.. I myself have spent a great deal of time avoiding his presence. But I've noticed him on my travels.. watching me." She gives a soft 'hmph' and shrugs her shoulder. "He frightens me." She admits in a matter-of-fact tone.

Clyde swallows and blinks as he looks down at his calloused hand, slipping it back down into his lap and curling it into a fist. "What's he want from me.." he mumbles, brows furrowing in slight.

"I wish I knew.." Madam Nazar responds. "But like you, Clyde Barrow.. everywhere he goes.. Death follows."

Clyde's dark gaze immediately drifts over to Bonnie, her gaze leaving Nazar to glance over at Clyde worriedly. Cripps grunts from behind his pipe, his chair pushing away from the table and creaking as he stands from his seat.

"That's enough for me tonight kids. Madam Bazarr, it's been lovely." Cripps wanders across the room to the front door and opens it, clearly having had his fill of mystical mumbo jumbo for one day. But he stops in the doorway and finally turns to look back at them.

"..I hate givin' any breath to this at all, but are you tryin' to tell me Clyde's got the Devil on his spurs?"

Madam Nazar shakes her head slowly at Cripps. "The Devil has an agenda. The dark man, he has no association to the flame or the heavens.. he dwells here.. among us." She glances back at Clyde. "And it seems you have perked his curiosity, my love."

Clyde's expression stiffens again, his dark gaze dropping to the table settled between them. Bonnie takes a sharp breath in, sighing unevenly before she drags her eyes away from him to look back at Madam Nazar.

2 Days Later...

'Mr. Barrow,

I'm not sure if this letter will find you, but in the chance that it does I hope it finds you well. You and Miss Parker. I'm afraid that I have a problem up in Valentine that needs to be dealt with, and I don't see any other way around asking if it would be possible for the two of you to accompany me. We captured Montez and he most certainly will be pulling all the stops to avoid hanging in the gallows. I fear his gang will destroy the entire town to ensure that he doesn't. You always seem equipped to handle matters like these. Far better than an old timer like me. Perhaps under dire circumstances, I can see to it that the law finds itself on the right side of you rather than the other way around. I'll be riding out to Valentine in two days. I hope to see you there. Take care, Clyde.

Tom Davies'

Clyde folds the paper back up and tucks it into the inside pocket of his leather coat. Dark orbs lift, his head turning to look out the post office window at Bonnie sitting on the wagon.

When he wanders back outside, her attention turns to him. Noticing the apprehension on his face. He'd been alright over the past few days, but Madam Nazar had left a feeling of unease in his gut knowing that his dreams weren't just some manifestation of his conscious. Bonnie knew that Clyde wasn't a religious man, by any means. Anything spiritual was just as foreign to a man who's only religious principles were centered around a gun and his own moral compass.

"What's wrong?" She questions softly before his brows furrow in slight as he squints and glances off down the train tracks next to them.

"Davies." He responds low, a faint sigh leaving him before he wanders around the wagon to climb back up into the seat.

"Davies?" She questions, confusion laced in her tone. "..is he okay?"

"Sent a letter.. they got Montez. Davies doesn't think they're gonna be able to hold him down. Wants us to go to Valentine." Clyde slips the reins from Bonnie's hands and swats the horses gently. Turning the wagon around and heading in the opposite direction of Roanoke.

Bonnie's mouth presses. "What about–"

"Doesn't matter." Clyde interjects gently. He glances at her and swallows. "..it's like I said, Davies snatched me out of hot water more times than I can count. Least I can do is keep him from gettin' himself killed by someone lot worse than me." His gaze shifts on her's for a sign of understanding before he glances back at the path. "We'll get there in a day or so.. goods run is gonna have to wait."

Bonnie nods and sighs softly. She lifts a hand to drag her fingers through the side of his tied up hair softly, fingertips brushing the salt and peppered hairs as she watches him. His gaze drifts back over to her.

"Davies knows you too.." she says, hand dropping to poke her finger against his chest.

He smiles gently at her, his free hand lifting to curl around her own and calloused thumb brushing the inside of her palm. "Not like you he don't.. think he's just really hoping he does."

They venture down through Cumberland, until the mountainous terrain gives way to the rolling hills of the Heartlands. Bonnie spots the steeple to the Church of Valentine and wagons and riders start passing by more frequently and a sense of anxiety immediately takes hold in Bonnie's chest.

It seemed like they'd been through everything that was possible to endure going through. She'd come to realize that her fears of danger always landed on Clyde because he was so willing to throw himself into it. He'd become far less reckless now having at least a mild sense of self-preservation, because now if he was in danger so was she.

The wagon creaks and groans beneath them as they pull through the muddy livestock town. Clyde spots Davies horse out front of the Sheriff's office. "Here.." he hands the reins over to Bonnie. "Take the wagon to the stables and meet me back here.. gonna go talk to him." He leans over to press his mouth to her temple. "It's Davies, don't be stressin'." He says knowingly and the corner of Bonnie's mouth twitches upward before he turns to hop down off the wagon, his dark gaze lingering on her as she pulls the wagon toward the stables at the opposite end of town.

Clyde's hardee boots, now caked with mud, thud as he steps up onto the stoop of the Sheriff's office. He stomps them to kick off the excess and turns the knob of the door to step into the room, dimly lit by a single lantern and the sunlight streaming in from outside. Bob, the local Sheriff turns to see who's wandered in; looking tired and worn out.

Davies, with his typical pensive stare watches as Clyde leaves the door cracked behind him. "Mr. Barrow." He says with mild surprise, moving past Bob and walking over to extend his gloved hand to Clyde who shakes it once firmly.

"You call, I come.." he mumbles and nods once to Davies. "Sorry about the m–"

"Water under the bridge, Clyde. You're here now.. that's all that matters."

"Barrow.. CLYDE BARROW?" Bob nearly yells incredulously, Clyde glances past Davies to see him sidestepping to get a better look at him.

"Calm down.. Bob. Mr. Barrow got himself in a bind.. as we all do from time-to-time. He's done far more to help the law than he has breaking it.. unlike Montez here." Davies glances over to the jail cell, Clyde's dark gaze wandering over to find the rough-looking bandito who spits through the bars in Davies direction.

"Well shit." Bob scoffs and looks between Davies and Clyde before wandering back over to his desk to sit down. The door squeaks open again and Bonnie wanders in with another male in all black in her wake.

"Found War." She says with a faint hint of amusement in her tone, her gaze lingering on Clyde as she passes him and looks to Davies. "Hey Tom, good to see you again." She smiles softly at him and extends her arms to hug the marshal who tenses but pats her back gently.

"You too, Miss Parker. You're looking well.. glad to see it." He nods once at her as she pulls away.

"Clyde." War slaps a hand to Clyde's shoulder, Clyde's hand returning the favor.

"Good to see you here." Clyde mumbles. "They're gonna need it."

"Listen I hate to break up this little outlaw reunion, Tom. But we're in–pardon my language, some real deep shit here." Bob says with annoyance laced into his somewhat panicked tone.

Davies sighs and leans against Bob's desk, watching the Sheriff with calm reservation. "We're all adults here.. Bob."

"Sure as shit is shit, they'll be back to free Montez and we and every decent person in this town is DEAD!" he yells, his patience finally wearing thin.

Clyde, Bonnie and War all fall into silence as Davies sighs.

"You know what.. Bob? Montez.." he glares over at the bandito. "I'm a man of many.. contradictions. I've thought long and hard about a speech about ethics, about responsibility.." he pushes away from the desk, glancing over pointedly in Clyde's direction. "..about the rule of law.."

Clyde's brows furrow slightly, his dark gaze lingering on the marshal as he steps in front of the jail cell holding Montez.

"Then I decided.. I'd just do this."

The click of Davies gun has Clyde step toward him, realizing what he was about to do. Why he'd looked at him. But before he can stop Davies from making the mistake, Davies lifts his Navy and pulls the trigger on Montez. Blood and brain matter splatters against the back wall of the cell and Montez's body thuds before their ears are all ringing from the gunshot being in an enclosed space.

Bonnie closes her eyes and War glances into the cell, "Holy shit, Davies." He mumbles. Clyde's dark gaze lingers on Davies who steps toward the bars of the cell to stare down at Montez's lifeless body. Bob hops up from his desk and rushes over in shock.

"You..YOU KILLED HIM!"

"No shit." Davies mutters, holstering his weapon again and sighing deeply. "That's one less problem to deal with."

"His BOYS will still come to town trying to break him out, Tom!" Bob yells, brows furrowing as he watches Davies.

Davies nods. "Sure as hell will.. that's why they're here." He motions over to Bonnie, Clyde and War.

There's a knock at the door and everyone glances in the direction of it as it creaks open once more. A blonde girl in her mid-twenties, decked out in leathers with a carcano and shotgun strapped to her back walks in. "Apparently I'm late to the party." She chides and glances around at everyone.

"What's everyone so serious for–act like this is a funeral.. oh for GOD'S SAKE CLYDE!" She yells as she notices Montez's dead body bleeding out in the cell. "Not every situation calls for shoot first, shoot last and then when everyone's dead ask some questions!"

"Catherine.. fortunately Mr. Barrow isn't responsible for Montez, he got caught in the crossfire and killed by his own men. Isn't that right, Bob.." Davies glances back at Bob who grimaces but nods slowly.

"Right.. he got caught in the crossfire."

"Well. Warm welcomes and everything you degenerates, but the party is on the way here. I saw some of Montez's boys crossing the river from the Plains a few hours ago. Sure they're rallying somewhere to hit us in full force." Cat huffs and looks back over at Montez.

"Then we better get prepared.." Davies glances over at Clyde who nods once to him. "I'll get some of the locals some guns. Gonna need all the help we can get. Catherine, we're gonna need that sniper on top of the hotel. Maybe you can thin the herd as they're charging in."

"Way ahead of you." She waves him off and wanders back outside.

"Warthrop, you post up next to the church and take out the ones who head for the Sheriff's office."

War nods and swings his rifle over his shoulder silently to head back outside behind Cat, wandering in the direction of the graveyard.

"Clyde, know you two won't drift too far from one another.. you'll be center of town on me. I need you focused." He nods and glances to Bob. "Bob you guard the office. War will be taking the majority out.. you just have to deal with any that manage to make it through."

Bob nods, apprehension spreading across his features before he wanders over to his gun safe to pull out a shotgun.

Davies wanders outside and Clyde glances to Bonnie before he starts to follow in his wake. Bonnie's hand catches Clyde's arm and he glances back at her. Her hands lift to slowly lift his trimmed bandana over his face, his dark eyes lingering on her through the hole cutouts. "Stay safe for me." She murmurs.

Clyde shifts and raises his hand to lift the bottom of his bandana up, catching her lips firmly against his mouth. "You too.. stay close." He mumbles.

"Always." She whispers softly before he drops the fabric of his bandana back down, his hand moving to lift her gathered bandana over her mouth and nose.

𝙄 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙,

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮

Dusty winds blot out the setting sun, no other form of life present other than a wake of vultures picking at a decaying pronghorn carcass. They squawk and snap beaks at one another fighting over the remains. A disoriented and confused Clyde wanders past them on foot down a hoof-beaten path toward a crossroads, his hardee boots never seeming to bring him any closer to the destination. Dark orbs drop to the ground about a dozen paces, lift, dropping again and repeating the pattern.. over and over again. He didn't know why he was there or seem to contemplate what would happen after he arrived, merely a vessel moving as a passenger within his own skin.

But on the last glance upward, a cloud of dust whips past him so harshly that sand bites at his face causing him to squint through the sudden plume.. finding a man in black formal attire and a tall top hat, standing with his back to him, facing the setting sun and looking out beyond the plateaus and rock formations of a Mexican landscape. Clyde's boots thud to a halt, his dark gaze watching as the man's head turns to the side noticing his presence.

"Clyde Barrow.. I've been waiting for you."

Clyde's confusion deepens, realizing he was now standing just the opposite path of the crossroad from the stranger. A deep-seated feeling of unease creeps into his gut as the man slowly turns to face him fully, eyes tired but all consuming, a depth lingering behind the man's gaze that causes Clyde's blood to run as cold as ice.

"Who are you?" Clyde questions with an unwarranted animosity lingering behind his tone, one that only causes a barely visible amusement to spread across the dark man's features before it fades as quickly as it appeared.

"An accountant. We met briefly in Canyon City.. do you remember being there?" The man questions and the ice in Clyde's blood hardens, a heaviness dropping into the pit of his stomach like stone at the recollection that floods his memory; gunfire and gleaming sheriff badges, Warren Davis yelling for Clyde to get the hell out of there before receiving a shotgun blast to his back at point-blank range, his blood painting the street littered with dead lawmen.

"Shit.. come on Clyde. Come on! We gotta go! Move!" He's shoved out of his shocked state by an insistent Leroy who forces him to leave their fallen brother behind, nearly dragging Clyde over to where their horses were hitched, the two climbing on their steeds and hooves racing as fast as their legs could carry them. Out of Canyon City and into the desolate wilderness.

"I've seen you all over." The man's deep voice brings Clyde back to the present. His dark gaze lifting from the dusty trail to find the man's piercing stare, watching him. "Blackwater, Saint Denis, Diablo Ridge.. Vanhorn." The gentleman takes slow and steady steps toward Clyde with the name of each location, halting at the last when they're standing at arm's reach. "You don't exactly come or leave anywhere you go unnoticed.. always leave your mark."

"Who the hell are you.." Clyde grits the words out and glares at the stranger, hand shifting to slowly reach for his gun at his hip.. only to find an empty holster.

The man's mouth morphs into a slow and knowing smile, a tired exhale leaving his lungs. "Not an enemy, Clyde. Just an observer.. of course, I always thought you operated under a strict policy of never shooting unless shot at. I suppose that justification worked.. for awhile." He says calmly and shrugs.

"I avoid it when I can." Clyde snaps back, his defenses heightening with each word.

"That's right. Riding all the way back to Vanhorn for revenge couldn't have been avoided.. could it, Clyde?" The dark man asks with the same calm voice, his brows lifting slightly as he clasps his hands behind his back.

"TELL ME WHO THE HELL YOU ARE!" Clyde erupts angrily, the winds that had all but stilled suddenly picking back up and whipping his salt and peppered hair into his eyes causing him to snap them shut. The wind dies back down as abruptly as it had started, the atmosphere shifting around him and he opens his eyes again to find himself standing in a swamp; the tall, thick trees throughout the area all littered with moss. The sound of frogs and crickets slowly fades into the darkness, and Clyde's eyes adjust. The man in black nowhere to be found.

His breathing slows as he scopes his surroundings, and the dim light of a lantern catches his attention from peripheral. Clyde's head turns to find a lone cabin standing at the edge of murky waters, the lantern hanging lit from a hook on the stilted porch out front. The glint of his eyes reflect the tiny flame as his gaze darts around momentarily, still in a search for the man at the crossroad.

His confusion shifts to fear; the cabin leaving a feeling similar to the danger of being in proximity of a deadly predator. Yet Clyde turns to start slowly walking toward it with a morbid curiosity, his dark gaze fixated on the open door to the home, dim candlelight from various spots illuminating the inside and flickering against the walls.

A sudden deep and low hissing sound has him stop dead in his tracks not a few feet from the front steps and his heart sinks into his stomach, head slowly turning to spot glowing yellow eyes that blink in the darkness. A large mouth full of teeth snaps open and the guttural sound of a alligator growling at him has Clyde jolt just before it leaps forward and snaps it's jaws shut around him with a sickening crunch.

×-×-×

Bonnie stirs from her sleep at the sound of Clyde mumbling next to her in bed, a slow breath flooding her lungs as she feels him jerk slightly in his slumber. A frown tugs onto her lips as she lifts her head to look down at him, noticing his hardened expression in the dim light of the candle settled on the bedside table.

He was having nightmares again...

He tosses and she pushes herself to sit up slightly beneath the sheets, her hair a mess as she reaches over to place her hand gently against his bare chest. A thin layer of sweat coated his skin, his muscles twitching at the sudden contact as she tries to gently soothe him and Bonnie sighs softly. She hated seeing him go through a time of it. His mind wouldn't rest, even in his sleep. She'd believed that he'd already been through the worst of it–that this had come to pass. But he was still reeling with remnants of what happened down in Vanhorn, and it seemed his nightmares had started back up again in full force.

Bonnie keeps her hand placed on his chest a moment, feeling the rapid thumping of his heartbeat beneath her palm. She lifts her hand after a moment to drag her fingers through the side of his slightly damp hair, repeating the gentle attempt to calm him until he mumbles again–a bit more loudly and angrily this time, although she couldn't make out what it was he was saying. She brushes her fingertips against his stiffened jaw, her frown only deepening as he jerks again.

"You're okay, shh." She tries whispering to him, hoping that her voice would infiltrate whatever battle he was in the midst of in order to serve him some form of peace but he continues tossing his head every so often and she realizes the state of his dream was only worsening. His breathing deepens, chest rising and falling harshly and before Bonnie can attempt to soothe him again, he jolts awake with a gasp for air as though he'd been held underwater.

"Shhh, hey–hey you're alright." She says quickly, her hand finding his chest again to allow him to feel her immediate presence. His breaths come in harshly for a moment as he blinks out of unconsciousness and those dark eyes find her hovering over him, concern etched into her features as she frowns down at him. "You're home." She says it softly, sighing. Only mildly relieved that he was out of whatever turmoil he'd been in.

Clyde's breathing slows and he pushes himself to sit propped up on his bows against the sheets, hand lifting to drag his palm down his face. Bonnie gives him a few moments to let him get grounded before she moves upward in the bed and rests her back against the headboard. She reaches for him, her hands slowly gliding along his shoulders and curving beneath them to gently tug at him. He realizes what she's trying to get him to do and shifts his body to rest his back between her thighs, head falling back and resting against her torso. Her fingers find his hair as she strokes them through it soothingly, head craning down to press her lips against the dip of his shoulder where they linger.

"You want to talk about it..?" She says barely audible, mumbling against his damp skin. Her hands spread against his sides, arms winding around his torso and knees lifting as she wraps herself around him protectively. He didn't much care for being coddled.. whether he was wounded or otherwise. But it seemed in times like these he didn't object to it because he needed the comfort.

Clyde remains silent for a few moments, recollecting the gentleman's convictions, his expression, the piercing darkness that lingered behind his tired gaze. Uncertain whether or not his conscious had decided to make up some embodied guilt trip for his actions. Maybe his mind had finally snapped.. too much violence, too much bloodshed, too much stress. Stress that he didn't want to extend to Bonnie and have weighing on her. He was conscious enough to know that mentioning any of it would've served no real purpose for either of them.

His head shakes slowly and he feels her sigh softly against his skin, his face turning to the side to press his nose against her cheek. She lifts her mouth from his shoulder, leaning down to press her lips against his with a lingering affection that he returns gently.

"I'm alright.." he mumbles against her lips before they slip from his.

Bonnie presses her forehead against his temple and he leans into her, arm hooking back to brush his calloused fingertips against the nape of her neck.

She wanted him to speak, if it would help ease his mind. But she also understood that Clyde was.. just as stubborn as she was, if not more so. Forcing him to talk about things he didn't want to talk about wasn't going to help. So she decides to be the one to speak up instead.

"Remember down at the ranch?.. the night you and Leroy got drunk?" She questions, trying to rack his mind with something else. Anything he could look back on and laugh at. "And.. Clara got so mad she shoved him headfirst into the lake?" She glances down at him and smiles gently when he finally chuckles mildly against her, exhaling.

"Clara don't like Leroy drunk at all." He mumbles and Bonnie laughs softly under her breath.

"And then she stole Olive and rode off.. whistling for Odie so he wouldn't have a ride back to the house." She reminds him and he sniffs amusedly.

"Then he stole Blue to go after her and you told my drunk ass to get on the back of Blitz.. cause 'no drinkin' and riding'." He recalls.

Bonnie nods, laughing again quietly.

"I miss them a lot."

"Me too.."

"We'll see them again soon.. once we get everything sorted out."

"One crisis at a time." He mockingly says, turning his head to tug the corner of his mouth up gently at her.

They talk for a short while longer; long enough for Clyde's frayed nerves to settle back down, and eventually he starts drifting back off to sleep. Still resting against Bonnie with her legs caged around his sides.

She carefully drags a pillow up to wedge between her and the headboard, not wanting to move and disturb any decent sleep he would get. She lays awake for a little while, watching over him as his breathing deepens with slumber. Her fingers softly stroking the side of his hair to keep her presence felt, attempting to ward off any chance of him slipping back into a state of turmoil.

She finally yawns, and after being satisfied enough that Clyde was resting well, drifts off to sleep beneath him.

×-×-×

2 days later...

Bonnie sits out on the front porch of the cabin, settled at the small table sitting on the corner as Cripps whistles and takes inventory on a goods haul he was preparing for Clyde. They had already dropped off Hamish Sinclair's, and it seemed the old veteran had taken to enjoying company for the first time in what Bonnie could imagine was a long while. She saw the appeal of course; living out in the wilderness. The most you had to worry about was the wildlife and if you were survival savvy, you quickly figured out which areas to avoid. It also helped having a dog who'd bark at the first sign of trouble.

The black lab thankfully hadn't decided to wander back off. He stuck close to Bonnie mostly, following her around wherever she went and it made Clyde feel less like he had to watch her like a hawk. After the kidnapping attempt he wouldn't even let her so much as wander past treeline by herself to search for herbs, but with Blackjack hot on her heels he'd eased up on his worries, which in turn put Bonnie more at ease. She still had mild paranoia that caused her to scope her surroundings a bit more than she use to, but time seemed to heal things of that nature–as it intended to.

"You got them potions ready yet?" Cripps calls over his shoulder in her direction, and Bonnie stifles a laugh as she shakes her head gently at him.

"Tinctures.. Cripp. You trying to get me burned at the stake, you old goat?" She teases and grins as he turns to look back at her with a blank expression.

"Maybe." His expression doesn't shift and Bonnie snorts lightly as he chuckles at her. "Well..?"

"I'll be done in a minute–don't rush me." She drops her gaze back down to the tray of small corked bottles and viles in front of her on the table, sliding the small crate Clyde had built for her closer to start carefully packing the bottles side-by-side within it. The front door to the cabin opens and Bonnie glances back to find him stepping out, fully dressed with his black hat clutched in his hand that he places over his tied hair.

Blackjack lifts his head from his place settled beside her chair, his tail swatting the ground with light thumps as Clyde wanders over toward them.

"You comin' with me?" Clyde questions and Bonnie nods gently as she sets the last bottle in the crate.

"Always.." She says softly, grabbing the stained rag from her lap to wipe the oils from her fingers and tossing it gently onto the table afterward. She stands up from her chair to grab the small box, pausing as Clyde's hands slip past her's to take it and her gaze lifts to find his mouth tugging up at the corner lightly.

"Go on and get your things.." he motions his head to the door and moves to start down the steps, crate of tonics and tinctures in tote. "We ready, Cripps?"

"Ready to go." Cripps confirms as Bonnie starts heading for the front door to grab her bag. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, when the sudden sound of faint music playing off in the distance has her pause. She glances back at Clyde and Cripps who'd both stopped what they were doing as well, heads both turned to look in the direction it seemed to be coming from.

Clyde sets the crate of bottles down on the back of their wagon along with the goods Cripps had stacked, turning to look back at Bonnie who shakes her head gently at him; uncertain as to what exactly it was they were hearing. But this was Roanoke.. and they'd already figured out strange noises were a somewhat common occurrence. Music was somehow far less unsettling than disembodied voices seemingly trying to garner their attention deep in the forest.

Despite that, Clyde slides the strap of his bolt action off his chest and racks a bullet into the chamber, clutching his weapon in hand at his side.

The music draws closer and a familiarity clicks within Bonnie at the unmistaken sound of strings playing a mystical song, causing her to gasp lightly. Her boots thud rapidly across the porch again before she descends the rickety wooden stairs. "It's her." She says with certainty, passing Clyde and making her way toward the beaten path leading away from the property. Blackjack barks and follows in a trot behind her.

"What?–Bonnie.." Clyde says with confusion laced in his tone, glancing at Cripps who looks between the two and wanders around the wagon to watch as Bonnie starts running off. Both Blackjack and Clyde in her wake.

"It's Nazar!" She calls back and keeps her quickened pace, heading straight in the direction of the violin.

It doesn't take long for them to find her; the brick red wagon with circus-esque decals painted along the sides being hauled by a white Nakota horse. Madam Nazar perched in the driver's seat, reins and long cigarette in hand as she travels in the direction of the cabin toward them.

"Madam!" Bonnie yells and her quickened pace switches to a full-blown run, Clyde's boots slowing to a halt as he watches her race toward the gypsy.

"Ohhh! You found me! Hello my darling!" The woman's excited tone drawls, her thick Russian accent seeping from every word. Clyde watches the exchange from a short distance away, brows furrowing. Once he's realized there's zero threat, he swings his rifle onto his back again.

Bonnie, Clyde (and Blackjack) escort Madam Nazar to the cabin, Bonnie far more talkative than she typically was. She explains how they'd been hiding out for a solid month there; evading the law and the mess that had been left behind in Vanhorn. Telling the gypsy woman that they weren't sure where else to go, and that she'd remembered the location from the last time she'd gotten herself into trouble. Clyde quickly realizes even in the short amount of time conversing that Bonnie looked up to this gypsy lady some way or another– and as amusing as it might've been otherwise, the situation at hand wasn't.

Cripps seems confused as well until Bonnie introduces the two to one another and Cripps seems to realize who she was immediately. When Clyde finally steps up to introduce himself a little better after she cuts her music off and climbs down from her wagon, Madam Nazar's pale gaze recoils at him in slight. "Oh!" She gasps and places a hand to her chest.

"Oh you poor, gentle spirit..." she searches his dark eyes, reaching out to take his hand. Clyde doesn't budge.

"His name's Clyde, Madam." Bonnie states and glances at Clyde who cuts his dark gaze at her, confusion etching into his features at the startled reaction.

Nazar takes a step closer to him, her sequenced skirt jingling as she scopes his face and looks into his eyes again.

"My sweet dear.. how did the dark man put his black mark on you?"

The confusion leaves Clyde abruptly–only transferring to Bonnie, and his face suddenly drains of color making him pale as the recollection of the man in the top hat floods into his memory.

The cool winds from the northwest cascaded down the mountainside into Roanoke Ridge, and the trees surrounding Nazar's cabin shed their leaves, the deep greens and golden browns gently floating to the ground around the property like light rain.

It'd been nearly a month since they first arrived at the quiet home west of Brandywine, and a sense of normalcy had been regained. Cripps remained occupied running his table, which in turn kept Clyde busy; hunting deer, elk, geese, and the occasional cougar in order to keep Cripps' materials stocked up and the elder busy. He complained whenever he wasn't. Although Bonnie was aware of the motive behind why Cripps was so insistent on remaining so. He believed it was far better than sitting around worrying about things that were beyond their control, and with how well he knew Clyde by now, he understood that an idled Clyde could be a dangerous one.

"So–uh.. how's he been doing? Does he seem.." Cripps had quietly questioned her around the campfire, only a few nights after Bonnie confronted Clyde in an attempt to drag him back from the dark place he'd been in; both confused and in a state of disbelief of the events that had transpired. Clyde had wandered off around the back of the cabin to relieve himself, and Cripps seized the opportunity to figure out how he was managing to handle the situation by word of Bonnie.

She nodded gently and glanced at the fire before returning her attention to Cripps. "About as well as you'd expect.. I suppose.." she'd answered softly, keeping her voice low so as not to be heard. "..he just needs some time Cripp–things like this.." she gently shook her head at the elder and frowned a bit. "..it stays with you, you know. Doesn't just wash away like blood does. He's dealing with it as best he can... he's okay." She'd assured him, hoping that it gave some peace of mind to the old man. It seemed that it had, because Cripps didn't ask again over the following weeks.

The few days that Clyde and she left Nazar's cabin and trekked west into the Grizzlies in search of buyers had been a decent distraction for him. It kept his mind busy and also gave him time to allow the full weight of what happened back in Vanhorn to set in. Clyde handled it in stride as he always did. He didn't speak about it, and Bonnie refrained from hounding him to death about how he was feeling.

×-×-×

Their journey was shared in comfortable silence for a duration, before Bonnie finally slipped her pack of cigarettes and matches out. She slid one out of the sleeve and lifted it to her lips, striking one of the matches to light it. Tobacco and paper burns away at the tip and she pinches the stoge delicately between thumb and index to offer it over to Clyde. He glances from the trail and tugs the corner of his mouth upward at her, reaching over to take it.

"Thank ya." He mumbles and lifts it to his mouth taking a slow and steady drag of smoke into his lungs that filters back out from his nose in a rush.

"Welcome." She responds and slips a cigarette out for herself, lighting it and taking a small puff. Her eyes traverse the treeline ahead, spotting a small group of deer that scatter away from the approaching wagon. She takes fuller drag into her lungs, relaxing a bit as she exhales in a soft sigh.

Clyde's dark gaze drifts back over to her a few times. He swatches the horse's backs with the reins, gaze lingering on her as he looks her over.

"You alright sweetheart.." He questions her quietly, noticing something amiss. It almost didn't sound like a question and that made Bonnie's heart ache. She had been so determined to be the support while Clyde was working through things, but she'd forgotten the fact Clyde was always finely attuned to her feelings.

She nods quickly and glances up at the swaying tree branches overhead, watching the sunlight's rays peak through the gaps. A few songbirds tweet happily as they glide beneath shade to their nest hidden away out of danger from predators. Bonnie's attention returns to Clyde, the corner of her lips tugging upward at him.

"Just feels like a different place now.. Vanhorn's only a day's ride southeast.. should be too close for comfort, but.." She explains. Taking another small drag into her lungs, her gaze drifts across his face before finding those dark eyes she was consumed with as he glances at her. "..you did the right thing.. I hope you know that."

Clyde's expression shifts, his jaws jutting slightly and Bonnie's mouth presses. Smoke filters from her nose as she watches him grapple with it. "I know.." he finally responds and sighs, his gaze drifting past her to the woods.

Bonnie knew that ultimately the problem wasn't what happened.. it was the fact he'd stepped outside of himself. Did something that wasn't in his nature to do. The man that Bonnie fell in love with was soft-hearted.. warm-blooded. He'd have given the shirt off of his own back to anyone who needed it, protected those who needed protecting, helped those who needed help.. even if they were strangers.

Protecting what was his.. was part of him. Seeking out retribution for being wronged wasn't. And even though Bonnie understood why he had to do what he did, she wasn't certain he understood himself the night he had gone back to Vanhorn to confront Byron.

Clyde nods a bit, his gaze returning to the trail ahead before he glances back at her and that dark gaze traces over her expression. "..if it wasn't for you I'd likely just disappeared. Headed northwest of New Austin and got gone but–" his head shakes slowly once as a recollection floods in of the night Byron's boys had attempted to kidnap Bonnie, his eyes slowly glazing over into a daze filled with that darkness she wasn't at all fond of. "There wasn't going to be any forgiveness for what they done.. what they were gonna do." His expression hardens and Bonnie's chest tightens at his tone.

She puts her cigarette out on the seat of the wagon and tosses it aside to the dirt trail before reaching her hand over for his that was free of reins, her fingers lace into his to squeeze tightly. She searches his gaze as it slowly drifts back out of the daze he'd gotten himself into, grounding him and returning him to the present.. here and now.

"Worst thing that could've happened was Byron getting hold of you.. Clyde." She says slowly. "He knew if he got me you'd come rushing in like a bat out of hell. I was gonna be bait.." She explains and sighs again softly at him. "You're not like him.." her head shakes gently at him. "You never could be, even on your worst days." She reassures him, realizing that might've been the fear he had. Her hand leaves his, her finger pokes his chest over his heart. "..'cause of this. You have one.. and you act on it."

Clyde reaches his hand up, grasping her's within his own and lifts it to press his mouth against her palm affectionately, his moustache and goatee brushing against her skin. "You know me.." he mumbles the words quietly, dark gaze refocusing on the trail.

"I do." She agrees and smiles softly once he glances back at her.

They make it to Hamish's cabin by evening. A quaint little home settled next to O'crea's Run with a small pen out back, a pale horse within it calmly grazing lifts it's head to look them over as the wagon approaches. Clyde tugs the horses to a halt before he climbs down from his seat, wandering around the back over to Bonnie and holds his hand out to help her hop down. Her attention drifts over the calm waters of the pond, watching as a flock of geese honk and flap off into the air before disappearing past the treeline.

She figured, if it hadn't startled the man residing there, Clyde might've taken to shooting every last one of them for Cripps' necessities.

They wander around the side of the cabin, Clyde leading with Bonnie in his wake, finding an older gentleman sitting in a rickety chair on the front porch. His long gray hair was kept in place beneath a worn out flop hat, and a prosthetic leg made of wood. Bonnie noticed his hand was curled around a rifle at his side, and his attention immediately follows them as they come into view.

Clyde pulls his hat off his head respectfully and nods once in acknowledgement to him, "Evening to ya. Know you probably weren't expecting company, much less the likes of us.. name's Clyde. This is Bonnie." He motions at her and returns his attention to the older male who looks them over, and seemingly seeing them as no threat, sets his rifle propped back up against the wall behind him.

"Nice to meet you.. I'm Hamish, Hamish Sinclair but.. considering you're a long ways out your way you already knew that. Unless you're lost?" He questions and leans forward to extend his hand to Clyde who steps forward to take it and shakes it firmly.

"Nah–not lost. We were sent.. don't know if you remember a fella named Cripps, but he remembered you." Clyde explains and steps back from the porch again next to Bonnie who steps up to take Hamish's hand and shake it gently.

"Nice to meet you, Hamish." She smiles softly and the older man nods before releasing her and glancing back at Clyde. His brows furrow a bit as he searches his memory.

"Cripps, Cripps.." He mumbles and realization finally crosses his features. "Think I do.. about my age, taller, kinda quirky. Met him down at..uh, Emerald Ranch I believe, a ways back." He recalls, settling back down into his chair.

Clyde nods. "Sounds right.. we work with him. Told us you don't like venturing too far into town too often, might be needing supplies up here. We just settled down in Roanoke a few weeks ago.. we're looking for buyers while we're in the area. Plan on heading west."

Hamish chuckles a bit and Clyde's expression shifts into one of slight confusion at the sudden amusement.

"Bit of a strange place to be setting up shop." He says pointedly, "..what kinda trouble you in?" He questions and glances between the two.

'Jesus.. this man is too perceptive for his own good.' Bonnie thinks, but obviously doesn't say it. She also doesn't dare glance at Clyde to make it obvious that he'd pegged them immediately.

Did they look the part or was the old man just wise as all hell. It was difficult to believe he could have such a keen instinct of people, considering it seemed he avoided them so often.

Clyde exhales and shakes his head a bit at Hamish. "No trouble.. just trying to make ends meet til we pack up and go our way."

Hamish's expression doesn't shift though–he wasn't buying it and Bonnie couldn't blame him. At his age he'd likely crossed paths with all sorts of people. He could've suspected trouble before they even stepped boot off that wagon.

"Alright, well.. suit yourself.. luck's in your favor I guess. Been runnin' low on a few things and wasn't looking forward to the trip over into Cumberland to get restocked." The older man grunts a bit as he pushes himself and hobbles to stand, voice slightly strained as he does. "Ain't exactly easy for me on account of the leg. Can give you work but uh.. might not be worth your troubles."

"Any work is work.." Clyde responds and Hamish chuckles again.

"Yeah.. figured you'd say that."

They learn that Hamish lost his leg in the war as he wanders with them around the water's edge. A cannonball, fortunately or unfortunately.. depending on how you looked at it. His horse's name was Buell, who seemed to be a pain in Hamish's ass but was also his companion. Hamish, although initially skeptical of the couple, seemed to warm up to them after conversing for awhile. Bonnie noticed that Clyde seemed to revert a little more to his former self speaking with the older man to which she was grateful. But then again.. it rarely took much for Clyde to bounce back; a quality she admired about him, among others.

Hamish shows them around the runoff, telling them of a monster fish he'd been hunting for months now that had been gobbling up all the smaller fish around it and not giving them a chance to grow. He takes them back to the cabin after sunset and writes Clyde a list of supplies he was needing over the coming days, then they're sent back on their way.

The dead of night creeps up on them during the ride back through Roanoke. As beautiful as the area was, there was a chill that would run up your spine not caused by any of the gentle winds often drifting through the creaking trees. The darkness that engulfed their wagon seemed to only close in.. and after awhile.. Bonnie starts hearing whispers.

She doesn't mention it to Clyde, partially for fear of sounding crazy. It's only once one of the horses seems to get spooked and the other follows suit that Clyde pulls on the reins, the wagon creaking to a halt. The horses whinny and stomp their hooves to the soil beneath them, heads tossing and Clyde shushes in an attempt to calm the gentle beasts.

"Clyde.." Bonnie says with apprehension causing his gaze to drift over to her, the pale moonlight illuminating the lower half of his face beneath his hat.

He stays silent a few moments before he slips his Lemat from it's holster. "I hear it too.." he mumbles, his voice steady but tone lowered and tense. She hears his gun click before he glances around the thick wood surrounding them.

One of those shivers creeps up her spine as they both remain perfectly still and silent, listening. The wind picks up and Bonnie hears the voice again, one of the horses interrupting it by neighing loudly and both she and Clyde's heads snap to look at one another.

"The hell is that.." Clyde's tone lowers and Bonnie shakes her head at him. An unnatural fear drops into her stomach like a rock and she reaches over to grasp at the sleeve of Clyde's leather coat, shaking it gentle but urgently.

"Can we please get back.." she whispers and shoots a look over her shoulder in an instant wave of paranoia. The whispering had sounded like a woman. But there wasn't one in sight. No lanterns, no riders, no wagons.. nothing.

Clyde goes to tighten the reins around one hand, swatting the horses to continue along the path when an abrupt bark has the both of them jump slightly in their seats. "Jesus.." Clyde mutters and the two of them glance around trying to figure out which direction it had come from. Clyde stops the horses again and whistles, another bark comes back in response.. closer this time. Bonnie squints as she finally spots a small dark mass.. charging up through the trees toward them.

"Clyde!" She yelps and Clyde snatches his Lemat to attention as he follows her pointed finger. A few more barks sound off and the two suddenly realize as it approaches that it's a black dog, it's fur matted down and caked with mud.

A resounding sigh of relief escapes the both of them and Clyde, although keeping his gun out, hops down off the wagon seat and rounds the back of the wagon. "Hey there..c'mon, here." He says quietly to the mutt, crouching down and reaching for the animal who sniffs at the ground and whimpers. It lays down onto the dirt path and belly crawls toward Clyde's extended hand, sniffing at him and flipping slightly onto it's back.

"Hey boy.. hey." Clyde mumbles gruffly and pats the pup a few times, rubbing it's neck gently. "What you doing all the way out here?" He questions.

Bonnie was already climbing down from the wagon, crouching down next to the whimpering dog and petting it too. "Who would it belong to?" She questions Clyde who shakes his head slowly.

"No idea.. looks like he ain't been eating very much. Isn't starving but.. he's thin." Clyde sighs and glances up at Bonnie, watching the frown tug down on her lips and already realizing where this was headed before she opens her mouth.

"Well we can't just leave him out here." She nearly whines herself. Clyde looks back down at the lab who laps at his hand and finally pushes itself to get up, tail wagging slightly.

"Cripps is gonna have a shit fit." He mutters knowingly.

×-×-×

"Oh no, no no no. We don't got any room for another mouth to feed! Them things got fleas, they piss everywhere, tear up everything you own! You're lucky if it don't rip your face off in your sleep!" Cripps yells as Bonnie and Clyde attempt easing him into being acquainted with the newest family member back at the cabin.

It hadn't taken two seconds upon seeing the disheveled canine for immediate refusal to erupt from the older man.

"Cripps, he was all alone out there!" Bonnie pleads and Cripps shakes his head firmly, striding back across his camp to start picking up things–things he undoubtedly suspected the mutt would tear to shreds.

"There's probably a reason for that!" Cripps yells back, stuffing his effects into the back of his wagon. "Probably ate his owner.. and we're next!"

Clyde chuckles halfheartedly and exhales, his gaze drifting from Bonnie with the filthy mongrel at her side over to Cripps. "C'mon Cripps, stop bein' so damn dramatic. He'd keep pests away.. you're always complaining about raccoons and mice."

"Nope. That thing will turn into a pest. It's that dog or me, take your pick."

Clyde grins amusedly watching the elder rampaging around his camp, muttering and already knowing that both he and the mutt were staying.

"It sleeps inside with you two. Don't come cryin' to me when it eats you." Cripps throws his hands up in defeat and goes back to his work, another chuckle leaving Clyde as he glances back at Bonnie.

"Let's get him down to the river, get him cleaned up so he ain't tracking mud.. get him some food."

Bonnie beams and crouches down to grasp the dog's face in her hands, swishing it's floppy ears. "Come on pupper, let's go get a bath huh?"

×-×-×

The crackling fire illuminates the small living space and Cripps harmonica plays gently from outside; the elder obviously now calmed down from his furious state.

Bonnie sits on the grizzly fur rug in front of the flames with the black lab laying down calmly next to her, it's chin resting on her thigh. She slowly pets him while Clyde watches the two from his place slumped back against the chair settled behind them, a calm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "What you gonna name him?" He finally questions, pushing himself to stand and cross the space. He shrugs his coat off his shoulders and hangs it on the hook by the front door, gaze drifting back over as Bonnie looks back at him.

"I dunno yet.." she smiles and shakes her head, looking back down at the pup as she scratches beneath his ear.

"I thought we could name him Chance. Who knows how long he'd have been out there wandering if he hadn't found us." Her smile fades a bit as she ponders on it, petting his head. "He's a good boy."

"He's had an owner before.. doubt it's quite the story Cripps was tryin' to sell us earlier. More likely the owner's dead or.. he got left behind or somethin'." Clyde responds and kicks his boots off by the door, wandering back over and crouching down beside the two.

He reaches down and scratches the mutts head, sniffing with faint amusement. "That really what you wanna name him?"

Bonnie shrugs and looks back down at dog, "Well what do you think?" She questions.

"Blackjack." He responds after a moment and Bonnie smiles slowly, looking at Clyde who tugs his mouth up at her and shrugs.

"Up to you. Seems like he's got taken with you." He chuckles quietly and pats the pup.

"How about that pupper? Blackjack?" She scratches the lab beneath his ear again and grins, leaning down to kiss him on top of his head. "Blackjack suits him." She agrees and beams at Clyde again, a grin spreading on his own mouth as he leans in and lifts his hand to gently tug her by her hair. His mouth catches her lips and lingers causing that insistent organ in her chest to thump in response to the gentle affection.

Blackjack falls asleep on that grizzly pelt. Clean, thoroughly petted and belly full. Bonnie lays entangled in the sheets, her legs hooked around Clyde's with the welcomed soreness between them as they lay in bed. Clyde strokes his hand across her back, fingertips grazing over her shoulder blades and brushing softly against her hairline causing her eyes to drift closed as she relaxes against him.

The mountains were a welcoming change of scenery. To both Clyde and Bonnie. The pair had spent so long down in the soupy humidity of Lemoyne and the dry desert heat of New Austin that the crisp, fresh air of Roanoke had almost been long forgotten. Clyde still had apprehension of venturing too close to the riverside, or anywhere remotely near Vanhorn. He'd been warned by one of his associates that they were both still wanted.. and that following their escape to the west, Pinkertons had begun wandering into the port asking questions of their whereabouts.

But Roanoke itself was a dense and treacherous area; full of cougars, winding paths that seemingly lead to nowhere and Clyde saw no reason as to why the law would wander deeper into the woods and put themselves at risk of getting lost or have any reason to believe the two of them would ever return to an area where the law would be searching for them. It was a risk, but it was one Clyde was willing to take.. with a bit of coax from Bonnie.

The stress of being hunted by lawmen, attacked by bandits and desperate outlaws, traveling all over, running wagons and trying to keep themselves out of sight was palpable.. yet Bonnie felt a mild relief at least being out of harm's way for a while. The moment they crossed border into Roanoke Ridge, it felt like she could breathe again.

Byron's betrayal to Clyde had taken it's toll though. Ever since their trip back to Vanhorn and what had transpired between the two, his somewhat carefree attitude had shifted.. and Bonnie had sense of the weight he felt on his shoulders.

It had been a long road for the two of them after their initial meeting in Vanhorn. To Saint Denis, Blackwater, New Austin, Big Valley..

Living on the run wasn't terrible when it was traveling across vast countryside, camping out beneath the stars with no other company than the horses grazing and regaining their energy from a long journey.. and Cripps telling his stories. Even the ones that he seemed to repeat on a daily basis. The old man was nice to have around during troubling times.

Of course Bonnie missed the ranch down in New Austin.. Leroy and Clara. But she understood Clyde's decision in not bringing the law down on them, especially not with Leroy running his own moonshine business and potentially landing himself in trouble as was.

She missed Matthew, but his visits were growing fewer and further in between with his own business. And now that Bonnie and Clyde were wanted in two states, they didn't want him getting involved with the law or otherwise either.

She missed Cat. But the fiesty spitfire had become something of a bounty hunter herself. Even being around her in their current predicament would put her in a position of having to suspend her job.. much to the likes of Davies. And that was something neither she nor Clyde were willing to do.

Davies had been the one to inform Clyde that the law was after him down in Blackwater.. and Bonnie still couldn't believe that the marshal allowed one of the county's most wanted to slip right out of his grasp, but it seemed he cared for Clyde in some manner. He was a friend to him, even knowing the trail of blood he'd left behind. Maybe Davies understood.. to a certain degree. Understood that there were times that a man had to do what he could with the cards he'd been dealt.. and sometimes those cards were just a real shit hand.

- - -

"Now I don't rightly know what it is you've done to get yourself into deep water this time– frankly it's none of my business. So I'm gonna head on back to the office.. and you're gonna disappear. Understand me, son? You don't come back here.. til you figure things out." Davies gives a solemn nod to Clyde that Clyde returns, turning to climb up onto the wagon next to Bonnie.

"Thank you, Tom.. hope to see you again." He mumbles as Tom takes a step back from them, his stern gaze shifting between the two.

"Next time under better circumstances." Davies responds and walks over to his mustang, climbing up into the saddle. "Take care, Mr. Barrow." And with that he snatches the reins to turn around and trot off down the dirt road and disappear into the darkness of the night, leaving Manzanita Post to head back in the direction of Blackwater.

Clyde swatted the horses, steering the wagon in the opposite direction. Heading towards New Hanover.

"He turned a blind eye again.." Bonnie nearly whispered to Clyde, his dark gaze drifting over to her riding shotgun.

"..it'll be the last time he does.."

- - -

Bonnie remembered the night they'd left Manzanita. Clyde had a look in his eyes she'd never seen before.. as though he was haunted. And that was another feeling she unfortunately could relate to.

It had been nearly a week since they made it to Roanoke. It gave the two of them a chance to regain their footing and decide where to go next, with enough supplies and goods to last them a few weeks. There was more than enough game in the thick wood to hunt, berries and herbs to pick, fresh water, and more important for the time being.. a safe place to lay their heads at night.

It had been Bonnie's idea to travel to the area, regardless of the proximity to Vanhorn. She knew of a cabin to the north, just west of Brandywine. One very secluded that someone would have to be going out of their way to find. A long ways back she had befriended a mystic named Madam Nazar who often traveled by wagon; giving palm readings, fortune telling, selling various herbs and potions among other things. She was a bit into trading herself.

Bonnie had worked with her–or rather for her, gathering herbs and bringing them to her for small sums of cash. When Bonnie landed herself in danger back in Big Valley years before, she'd ended up finding Nazar who sent her to stay at the cabin that she never inhabited due to her constant traveling.

When Clyde and she finally made it to the abandoned home, Bonnie quickly realized the mystic was nowhere to be found.. likely wandering the land to be available to those who should seek her out. And although Bonnie would've appreciated her council, being in a safe place would have to suffice for the time being.

Days pass, and Clyde's condition seemed to improve slightly with the stress removed of having to constantly be on the run, but he still wasn't quite himself. Cripps had taken to staying outside and sleeping in his tent; preferring the outdoors over four walls and a roof, which gave the two a small sense of privacy.

The third night, Bonnie wanders back inside from taking Cripps out a plate of food and finds Clyde sitting at the table silently.. cigarette dangling loosely from his mouth, smoke curling up in front of his eyes. The flames from the fireplace crackle and pop, illuminating his face dimly from across the room as he stares into them. A near catatonic expression etched into his features. Blank.

A soft sigh leaves Bonnie's chest after she pauses in the doorway, stepping in to gently close the door behind her but he doesn't so much as blink.

- - -

"B-Byron James come through talkin' about ya.. asking if y-you'd been around. Couple days later some P-pinkertons showed up l-lookin' for ya." Clyde remembered Shaky explaining.. and the sudden realization hitting him like hooves to the gut.

"But I-I-I lied and told him I ain't seen you f-for months. Was thinkin' you w-was dead or somethin'."

Clyde's mind began rapidly flickering through the events, all the pieces suddenly clicking into place.

The masked up gang who'd hit Blackwater while Bonnie and he were there, the lawman Thomas Jackson showing up in Vanhorn when Clyde had been planning to meet Byron, Clyde's boys getting ambushed up in Diablo Ridge when nobody but Byron had any knowledge of the dropoff being there. He'd planted his goons, he'd been tipping off Pinkertons, tried leading them into a trap, tried getting Bonnie killed.. and smiled to his face the entire time he'd been doing it. Byron James had been a snake his entire time knowing him.

That realization should've turned the kick to Clyde's gut into a simmering rage. But instead a knowing calm sinks in. A calm that had carried with him all the way from Thieves Landing back to Vanhorn for the final time.

"About time you showed up, brother." Byron had chided to him, smug grin curled on his mouth.

"Mhm..you know me." Clyde responds, a hollowness seeping from his tone as dark orbs linger on Byron walking up from the docks of Vanhorn, his hat cloaking his face in shadow from the moonlight.

"Yea, know you love bein' late." Byron chuckles as he walks past Clyde in the direction of the saloon, Clyde's dark gaze only following him over his shoulder with his jaws jutting roughly against his cheeks. "Feller should be here any minute.. for now, let's go grab a whiskey hm?"

Clyde slowly turns to face him as he speaks cooly, his hand shifting to his side and gripping the handle of his knife, slowly slipping the blade out of it's sheath with no discernable emotion in his body. His mouth presses as he nods slowly at him, mouth quirking to the side.

"Tell him I said 'hello'..when you get down there, Byron." Clyde says with that same calmness in his tone.

A confused look crosses Byron's features as he stops and furrows his brows. But the same realization Clyde had back in Thieves Landing finds him, and he attempts to mask it quickly as he turns to face Clyde again and continue his charade.

"..say 'hello' to who?" Byron questions, boot scuffing to a thud as he tilts his head with a show of confusion.

Clyde's blank expression doesn't shift, his dark orbs narrowing on him.

"..Thomas Jackson." He says gravely.

Byron's brows lift with the sudden panic, realizing that Clyde knew everything. But before he can so much as yank his revolver from it's holster, Clyde launches forward and shoves Byron's back against the balcony post next to the saloon. His other hand gripping the knife swipes upward and slices through flesh and trachea, blood squirting and splattering on Clyde's face and clothes as Byron chokes and gurgles, collapsing to the ground.

All movement ceases after a moment, and Clyde glares down coldly at the man he once would've killed for.. bleeding out on the ground below him, eyes wide but lifeless as he stares back up at him. A breath floods Clyde's lungs and leaves in a rush as he shakes his head. He slips his knife back into it's sheath with that calmness, and turns to slowly walk over to his Missouri Fox Trotter Blitzkrieg, slipping his reins from around the hitching post and climbing up into the saddle to head back toward the abandoned mansion, where he had Bonnie waiting for him.

- - -

"Clyde?" Bonnie's voice comes out softly as she nears the table Clyde was now settled at, trying to drag him out of the daze he was left in. His eyes finally blink a few times, dark orbs drifting over to her and softening slightly seeing the worried look on her face.

"How's Cripps doing out there.." he questions absently, voice a bit detached.

"He's fine... what about you?" She questions, her lips tugging downward.

"I'm alright.." He states in a low tone. "..you?"

Bonnie nods and closes the space between them, pulling out the closest chair and turning it toward the corner of the table to sit facing him. "I'm okay.. long as you are." She adds and swallows, her eyes tracing over his expression that although had softened was still void of any resemblance to the Clyde Barrow she knew. She understood, regardless of not knowing what exactly had happened between he and Byron. He'd come back covered in his blood, and that had been enough for her to know why he was in the state he was in. He'd believed the man was his friend. And the truth of the matter was that he'd been a snake in the grass from the beginning.

Bonnie had known betrayal, but for Clyde it was something foreign. He was typically such a good judge of character that he never associated with types such as Byron. But snakes were difficult to judge while slithering. And Byron knew how to manipulate Clyde's good nature. Evil could be intelligent, but it almost always got caught. Facades only lasted so long, and the more derangement that was involved the more easily it was for it to slip up and make a wrong move.

Byron had paid for it with his life. And despite knowing all that, Clyde's nature still blamed himself to some degree. Maybe for not realizing it sooner, maybe that others had taken notice before he even had, maybe for allowing Byron to get as far as he had in the first place. Bonnie wasn't sure.

Her mouth presses as she watches Clyde set the back of his hand on the table, reaching for her. Her own hand lifts from her lap to lace her fingers between his own, squeezing tightly. Her eyes close and she swallows again, trying to think of something to say but knowing there was nothing that would relieve the situation.. not entirely.

"Please.. don't let what you've done kill the man I love too." She whispers softly and opens her eyes as they glisten in the dim light. Something shifts in Clyde's detached gaze and he softens a bit more. "He wasn't thinking twice about doing the same to you, Clyde.. to us." She sighs and frowns a bit. "It's over.."

Clyde nods gently and a long breath exhales as if it was one he'd been holding. "Just wish I'd known from the start.. could've been avoided."

Bonnie shakes her head gently. "Nothing would've changed. For every Byron there are twenty good people. No sense in forgetting the kindness of strangers because of those with rotting souls. Byron lived by what he died by.. if it hadn't been you to get rid of him, it would've been someone else. It's just the way of things." She whispers the last part again quietly and swallows again. "You told me.. it won't get easier, we just have to be stronger. And you were right.. but a lot of these battles weren't even our's to begin with. It already is easier because you got rid of where it was stemming from.. and none of Byron's associates would be foolish enough to try it. Not now.. they'd be selling themselves out."

Clyde's gaze drifts over to the fireplace again as he thinks. "And if they do?"

Bonnie shakes her head gently. "Then we'll know exactly who to direct Davies or whoever we need.. to them. For now, we'll stay here and wait for Nazar to return. See if there's anything she can do. Maybe head into the Grizzlies and see if there are any stations or trading posts around to get supplies."

Clyde nods again and sniffs as if amused by something, but it doesn't reach his features. "Usually I'm the one talking you down.."

"Yeah–well.. learned from the best." She retorts and smiles gently at him, the corner of his mouth tugging back up at her.

He finally stands from the chair he'd been planted in, rounding the corner of the table to hover over her and gently tug her up to her feet. "C'mon.." he mumbles and leans down to catch his mouth against her lips, lingering. "Come lay with me.."

Bonnie wakes up the following morning to the sound of wood being chopped outside. The consistent thudding has her eyes flutter open and slowly stir in the hold of Clyde's arm around her waist. It was the first morning in the past week that she felt well-rested.

Clyde had been tossing and jerking in his sleep and it seemed that had finally ceased. His arm tightens gently as she shifts again and Bonnie rolls over in his hold to find his gaze on her, still half-asleep and tired but seemingly in better shape than he'd been.

"Morning." She murmurs softly to him and smiles, his mouth curving up at her.

"Mornin' beautiful." He mumbles back, voice still thick with sleep. His dark eyes had that softness behind them again and Bonnie felt relieved.

They eventually roll out of bed and get dressed to wander outside in search of Cripps. They find him hanging a gutted deer upside down by it's legs on his stand preparing to skin it.

"Was wondering when you two would get up. Now I know you got things going on and all, but don't forget–"

"–to make time for business, we know Cripps." Clyde mumbles, motioning to his table. "Was coming out here to tell you we're heading west to find some posts. We'll figure out who to sell to, don't you worry."

Cripps nods and wanders across his makeshift camp to go digging into the back of his wagon. "Well since you mentioned it.." he starts, clamoring following before he makes his way back over to them with a folded up paper in hand. "..got this map years ago of the area. Potential buyers, although I don't know if they're still around. There's a fella named Hamish.. down by O'crea's Run. Don't wander down into towns too often so might be someone to check. Met him once or twice–got a bum leg."

"Not relevant." Clyde chuckles quietly, taking the map as Cripps offers it over to him and tucking it into his coat pocket. "We'll go speak with him while we're out. Ya need anything?"

Cripps nods and motions back at his barrel. "Animal fat. We're getting low."

Clyde nods and glances at Bonnie who turns to wander over to where Blitzkrieg and Blue were, grazing beneath the shade of some trees. She hears Clyde and Cripps conversing as she gets them ready for their trip but her mind was elsewhere. There was plenty to concern about in these parts.

Wolves, cougars, bear. The prospect of lawmen ever finding them up here was at least slim to none, and outlaws typically stuck close to towns. It was only trading one stress for another.. but at least the stress of vast wilderness was one that was more manageable. She could only recall what Leroy had told them back down in New Austin when they'd been at the farm.

The stay in the (mostly) civilized city should’ve only lasted a day or two– at most, but Clyde ended up awaiting Bonnie’s departure in the days that followed rather than taking his leave and heading further west as he was intending to. Bonnie makes her tonics and tinctures the first day and sells almost half of them the next. They roamed the streets on the down time and shopped at the marketplace, talking as they did. And the more they discussed, the more Bonnie realized they’d both endured a lot of hardships along the way. 

She found it hard to imagine how they’d both been through so much of it and hadn’t allowed it to make them calloused and cold; something that happened so easily to others. It was difficult to know whether it was endurance or sheer indifference on their part. Were they resilient.. or just adaptable? She couldn’t see Clyde as remotely cold, regardless of how.. passive he seemed to be about his own problems. She only found it admirable that he was so withstanding– a trait that she felt she perhaps lacked to some degree. 

The third night as they’re having dinner at the Bastille, Clyde cuts through the comfortable silence they had settled into. “Glad to be heading back to Strawberry tomorrow?” He asks from across the table, his voice low and measured as he looks up from his plate of steak and potatoes at her and chews slowly.

Bonnie smiles at him halfheartedly. Truthfully, she was dreading it.. in every sense of the word. As peaceful and quiet as Clyde thought the place to be, Bonnie still absolutely hated it there. Possibly more than Saint Denis, and that was difficult to match against. She had her reasons.

“Not sure..” she mumbles and sniffs with faint amusement that doesn’t reach her features, not even in the slightest. “..might just decide to stay here.. become a snooty city slicker.”

Clyde barks out a laugh and shakes his head at her. “You ain’t the type.” 

He slides out his pack of cigarettes and taps two of them out of the sleeve, offering one over to her over the table that she gladly slips from his fingers.

“I know.. “ the small smile on her lips quirks. 

“I’d never make it here. But.. I guess that’s just about anywhere.” 

“Ever been down to New Austin?” He questions and takes a drag from his stoge, squinting slightly as the smoke curls up in front of his face and filters from his nose. 

She shakes her head gently ‘no’ at him and presses her lips, eyeing him from across the table as he leans forward with a match to light her cigarette as well. She leans across to take a slow drag against the flame, inhaling as the paper and tobacco burns away at the tip. He sits back in his chair afterward and shakes the match out, tossing it into the ashtray.

“..need to take some supplies over to a few stations down there. Got a fella with a ranch I stay with when I go through. Quiet like Strawberry but.. it's warm, folks are friendly. Offered me a plot of land a few times but.. I never stay put long enough to take him up on it– anyway..” he trails off realizing he was rambling a bit, and Bonnie quickly realizes where it was going. A small flicker of something ignites in her chest. Excitement, anxiousness– she wasn’t sure. His dark gaze lifts to meet her own and she presses her lips together firmly to keep from interrupting him.

“...could get out of dodge for a little while. Head down with me.. meet new people, be in a new place. Know it’s a little far and there ain’t any pressure to it.. I just..” he pauses and the faint smile that had sat on her lips spreads into a full one. 

“I.. I don’t wanna get in the way of your work or anything, Clyde.. but if–”

“I want you.. to come with me..” he replies quietly and Bonnie swallows a bit. That ignition in her chest spreads and takes hold at his tone. “.. look, past week felt like a vacation.. compared to how things normally go. You ain’t gonna be in the way of anything.” He assures her. “Fella I know, Leroy– one with the ranch, his wife’ll be happy to have ya around.. I will too.”

Bonnie bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling too much. She nods gently at him and drops her gaze down to her cigarette, flicking ash off into the tray settled in the center of the table.

“I’d be happy to go with you.” She replies softly and Clyde nods once.

“Good.” 

There’s a shift of energy that night. The two of them sit downstairs at the Bastille for the longest time, both seeming to refuse to wander upstairs and head to bed, although they both knew that they should’ve. The late hours of the night stretch into early hours of the morning and the bar begins clearing out of patrons leaving only Clyde, Bonnie, a small table of young socialites laughing in drunken hysterics and getting louder with each drink and Lilian Powell; a frequenter of the Bastille sitting on the couch yelling at the bartender for a refill every time her glass was empty. A couple of beers turn into a few more and the pair find themselves eventually running out of conversation that wasn’t obvious they were just avoiding saying their goodnights. 

Clyde puts out his last cigarette in the glass ashtray, clearing his throat gently. “So…” 

Bonnie’s lips press although a dazed and slightly tired smile rests on them as she eyes him from across the table. Her heart starts pounding unbidden in her chest at the tone, although she tries her hardest to ignore the sensation of it. “..so..” she repeats and Clyde chuckles at her. 

His cheeks were slightly flushed with color from the consumption of alcohol coursing his system and his head shakes gently as he leans back in his chair slumped to watch her. “..what now.” 

Bonnie smirks and sighs a bit unevenly. She feels a small rush of adrenaline surge her veins and it pushes her to her feet a little too quickly causing her to sway and nearly fall over. Having been sat down for so long, she’d miscalculated just how much she’d had to drink and the moment she stood it seemed every beer she’d consumed hit her center of gravity all at once.

But Clyde launches up from his own chair and catches the underside of her arm nearly falling over the table himself, laughing quietly at her as she looks up at him a bit embarrassed at how drunk she’d gotten herself. “Now.. I’m gonna fall over and have half the Saint Denis cops busting in here to arrest me for public intoxication.” she says.

“Yeah, let’s not do that.” He teases her and laughs again softly, keeping her steady on her feet. 

Bonnie drags her gaze away from his dark eyes, glancing over at Lilian as the woman drones on about a man named Thomas and cocaine to one of the women sitting at the table of socialites. “Mn.. maybe we should head to bed.” she sighs and looks back at Clyde, her cheeks flushing a bit finding his eyes already on her. “..since we have to be up a little early.” she adds. 

Clyde nods in agreement, slowly slipping his hand from beneath her arm once he’s certain she won’t be falling over onto the floor. “Mhm..c’mon drunky.” he grins with quiet amusement. 

They gather themselves and start heading upstairs, passing the piano that was now void of a pianist. Despite the consumption of booze, Bonnie’s mind was racing. The past week with Clyde had stirred up feelings in her chest that she didn’t even know she was capable of having and she was now grappling with what she knew them to be. 

It was scary.. she barely knew this man and here she was planning on traveling across the country with him down into unknown territory to god knew where. The way Clyde had described it made it seem inviting and Bonnie idealized the freedom that came with a lack of permanence but.. that wasn’t what her mind (and heart) was so fixated on. 

She was now to the point that she hated to imagine parting ways. She was willing to accompany him down to New Austin because it prolonged what had seemed to be the inevitable; them saying their goodbyes ..rather than just goodnight. 

She attempts to calm herself once they’re nearing the hallway of bedrooms upstairs, but her heart was still hammering wildly with the images infiltrating her thoughts. She knew it could’ve just been the alcohol messing with her, but she suddenly found herself craving. His hands on her, his mouth on her lips, his weight on top of her. She’d been so touch-starved for as long as she could remember that it wasn’t difficult to imagine the first man who treated her well and made her smile would be the one that she desperately wanted.. and she mentally berated and beat herself senseless for allowing such thoughts to cross, but she couldn’t stop them as fast as they were presenting themselves to her, naggingly. 

By the time she knows it, they’ve stopped in front of her bedroom door and with as much bravery she can muster she turns to face him again. Her eyes lift to find that dark gaze on her own, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he glances down at the space between them.

“I uh..” he starts and sniffs, shaking his head once before lifting his eyes to her again. “I’m glad you’re comin’ along with me.” he elects to say looking back up at her and Bonnie swallows a bit. 

She nods at him and smiles back softly, her eyes glossy with the slight intoxication and cheeks flushed. She found mild relief in knowing the heat rising in her face could’ve been chalked up to being drunk, also relieved that Clyde couldn’t read her thoughts. “Me too..” she responds softly. 

She wanted to invite him into her room– god did she really want to. But before she can decide whether or not that was even a good idea, Clyde leans forward to press his palm flat against the wall behind her and that infernal organ in her chest hammers off again so hard that she swore he’d be able to hear it in the proximity. His face was close enough that all it would take was her to lean in to close the gap and finally be able to know what his mouth would feel like pressed against her’s.. but the click of the doorknob to her room behind her other side had her freeze in place when she hears it.

Clyde gently pushes the door open and his eyes shift on her own, something lingering behind that magnetic gaze of his– something she didn’t have long enough to read into before he smiles again slowly at her. “Goodnight, Bonnie..” he says with a gruff softness in his tone, pushing himself away from the wall to turn and disappear into his own room across from her’s. He closes his door quietly, leaving Bonnie with her heart on the verge of attack and a sudden feeling of emptiness in the space of the hallway that was now set between them. 

The scent of river water and fish clung heavily to the air of Vanhorn. The small port that was meant to have been a trading post became a casualty to the railroad once it bypassed north to Annesburg, now only harboring outlaws and gunslingers unwilling to integrate into society. All of the traders and local fishermen had long since fled to neighboring counties or ventured down to Saint Denis in search of a better life. 

Bonnie tried to stay away from the east entirely. Between the Broods, Nightfolk, Griefers and Raiders there was no point wandering into those territories unless you had a death wish. Strawberry had been her safe haven for the longest time.. but it was no home. She’d managed to start a small business around herbal remedies and making tonics and tools for those in need, but even that sort of work required her stepping boot into terrain that she otherwise avoided.

The crescent moon seemed to close in on Vanhorn, illuminating the areas that the scattered lanterns hanging outside of taverns and rundown hotels left untouched. The lowhanging fog and deep groans of passing boats was ever-present. Blue, a golden brown American Standardbred with pale blue eyes and a calm temperament was how his name was coined. He was Bonnie’s noble steed and traveling companion. 

The exhausted animal lets out a snort beneath her, trying to tell her that he was tired to which she shushes him gently and pats the side of his neck in acknowledgement before directing him to the hitching post outside of the saloon. She could use a drink after such a long ride. Her backside was saddle sore and she was tired and hungry herself. She’d have to stay at the inn for the night.. which she wasn’t looking forward to. Gunshots often went off in the dead of night and there was no telling when a shootout would become the result of them. 

Vanhorn wasn’t a safe place to be..

by any means.

After sliding out of the saddle and wrapping Blue’s reins around the post, she goes digging in her saddle bag for an apple she’d saved and offers it to the gentle beast who takes it from her gratefully. “I’ll get you to the stable in a bit, okay?” She mumbles to him as he chomps through the apple core and she ruffles his mane. Then she steps up onto the rickety wooden platform to head into the saloon's swinging doors, a harmonica playing quietly from somewhere inside.

“Hey–did ya hear me, sonny? I said you’re in my spot.”

“-and I said ‘move along’.” 

The calm warning in the responding man’s tone slows Bonnie’s pace as she looks toward the altercation happening at the edge of the bar. A man in black leathers with his unruly hair slicked back into a tight ponytail barely glances from the aggressive other to cut his gaze in her direction as the doors squeak on their hinges from years of damp air and little repair. His attention almost immediately falls back to the other man who was clearly drunk and slurring. 

“I’ll teach ya some respect, you son of a bitch!” The drunk man yells and suddenly goes to swing, only for the dark male in black leathers to duck the punch and swing a fist around that connects dead with his jaw, a sickening popping sound following the contact as the drunk is sent flying onto the floor and groaning in pain at the blow. The dark male turns away again after glaring down at the man curled up on the floor, grabbing his shot of whiskey off of the alcohol-drenched bartop to down it in one gulp and slam the glass back down annoyedly.  Bonnie watches with widened eyes as the bartender yells that she’ll have no brawling in her bar and the drunk man still groaning on the worn floors tries picking himself back up clumsily. 

The man in blacked out clothes who’d knocked him down turns again to grab the drunk by the back of his collar, slowly dragging him in the direction of where Bonnie stood; still unmoving and watching the situation unfold from the doorway. His head turns from watching the drunk squirming and trying to lash himself out of his grip, his dark eyes lifting to meet Bonnie’s as he tries to pass by and drag the other man outside. “‘Scuse me miss, sorry.” He apologizes and Bonnie swallows before sidestepping out of his way. “It’s okay..” she nearly whispers as he passes by, grip tight as a snake around a rat on the other man’s collar as he drags him out– obviously planning on beating the man senseless for his drunken outburst. This was Vanhorn.  

He comes back inside after a few minutes, though alone. No sign of the man he’d been in an altercation with and nobody seemed to dare ask– including the bartender who was quietly back to washing glasses in a barrel settled behind the bar. He walks calmly back to his spot and pulls out a few coins to set down on the swollen wood, glancing up at her. “Another whiskey.. please.” 

Bonnie eyes him over his shoulder as he hunches and the bartender pours him another shot glass of dark whiskey. Bonnie picks up her beer and swigs some from the warm bottle silently. He was attractive.. for whatever sort of outlaw or otherwise he might’ve been. Dark raven hair and olive-toned skin, dark pools for eyes with a dangerous tint that should’ve been a warning.

He finally glances over his shoulder at her; obviously feeling her gaze on him. Watching her eyes for a moment as if he were trying to find the answer as to why she was staring at him in the first place. “...don’t tell me.. I’m in your spot too.” he mutters.

Bonnie laughs faintly at him and gently shakes her head. “Not me.. I’m not from around here.”

“Consider yourself fortunate, sweetheart.”

His name was Clyde Barrow, she learns. He was a trader of sorts although the details of that job seemed to entail some manner of violence that often got him into trouble. He ran into all sorts of people, and it seemed that role had left him very untrusting of almost everyone. 

Bandits frequently tried to steal supplies off of him, and Bonnie couldn’t see how any sane person would want to work a job like that alone. For Clyde it was better that way. He didn’t have anyone to answer to and all the profits went directly to his pocket. When he did get attacked by bandits, he only saw it as an opportunity to take from them what they tried taking from him. And try they did. It was a dangerous job that paid well for that very reason. Not a lot of people were willing to get shot at over supplies and goods. 

They have a few beers together that night, just talking and sharing cigarettes. Bonnie tells him about Strawberry and the type of work that she did– which seemed relatively boring and uneventful compared to his line of work. But Clyde seemed to show mild interest in it regardless.

He didn’t have to be anywhere until the next evening and Bonnie was stuck in Vanhorn until morning so the two had some hours to kill.

“So where you headed.. after this.” Clyde questions after their conversation finally dies down and they’re running out of small talk. Watching her with those dark eyes across the table settled at a secluded corner of the saloon, the dim candle light flickering on his face. 

“Saint Denis.. I think.” She sighs. “..much as I hate it there.” She responds, idly fidgeting with the top of her bottle. Her eyes lift again to meet his. “The truth is.. I don’t really like it anywhere. Been livin’ in Strawberry for the longest time. It’s a quiet little town, but that gets old fast. Bunch of yuppies acting like they're living in some oasis– it’s ridiculous.”

She shakes her head and purses her lips, eyes dropping back down to her bottle.

“Think I might’ve stopped over at Riggs station a few times over there.. place is real quiet.” He sniffs and takes a drag off his cigarette, still eyeing her across the table. “My delivery’s in Saint Denis.. if you don’t mind it, I’d like to ride out with ya. Can leave a little early.” 

Bonnie’s eyes lift again, some unfounded weight lifting from her chest. Traveling alone was scary enough at times. You never knew when you were going to get rode up on by a griefer or be ambushed by raiders. She’d have done it alone regardless, she had many times. Having Clyde ride along with her even though he was a moving target seemed far more ideal. He seemed genuine and kind.. despite his rough demeanor, and Bonnie appreciated his company. 

She smiles slowly and nods softly at him. “I’d really feel a lot safer if you did.”

A smile tugs faintly at the corner of his mouth gently before it fades. “I dunno about safer, uh.. already told you–”

“I know, I know.” She interjects and laughs softly. “It’s fine. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle. You handled yourself just fine earlier– I got zero concerns.”