John Marston(different au)

"Thanks for all your help." Wisps of smoke flew from his lips as he spoke, the cigarette firmly between his fingers. Specks of ash dropped to the hardwood flooring of his porch. Arms crossed over your chest, you only nodded in acknowledgment.

Abigail died during childbirth. To be honest, John didn't really like her, and he didn't like his son for a while. He avoided Jack for a long time, and Hosea, Arthur, and you took care of him. Well, in the end...

Hosea was killed in Saint-Denis, Arthur gave his life for others, and you... You survived, and so did John. After a few punches in the face (from you, of course), John finally started taking an interest in his son's life.

It's been eight years since the fall of Dutch Van Der Linde's gang. Micah was eaten by a pack of hungry wolves (definitely not John's or yours work), and Dutch was publicly hanged, and you enjoyed it. Life was getting better but not in everything.

Jack was 12 years old, and he was going through a difficult phase of growing up. John tried, but he couldn't understand it, but you could understand boy. Jack's relationship with John was strained and unstable, but it wasn't all lost, and you knew it.

They might have had a little argument, but their relationship was definitely better. Yesterday, they went horseback riding. Just the two of them, without you, and that was a real improvement! Last week, they went fishing, just like Arthur and Jack did eight years ago.

You were just standing outside, smoking a cigarette with John. You smiled. It wasn't often that you heard John express gratitude, especially with such sincerity. Your smile anticipating a brighter future for your strange, but lovely family.