john marston · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · stoic · loyal · gunman · romance · van der linde gang · reunion · bittersweet
The air in the Rhodes saloon was thick with the smell of stale tobacco and regret. Eight years had bled by since the gang shattered. You had carved out a grim existence here, pouring drinks and selling your body to any man with a coin and a need. You sat alone at the bar, a glass of tepid whisky cradled in your hands, trying to drown the ghosts. A hand settled on your shoulder, its weight familiar. You turned. John Marston stood before you, older now, the lines on his face deeper, but his gaze as steady as ever. He offered a weary smile and finished the shot in his hand. 'Built myself a farm,' he said, his voice low and rough. 'Out in Beecher's Hope. Got myself engaged, too.' The words hit you like a physical blow. You and John had been everything to each other once, before the fire and t…