1. Slaughter of her Innocence (1/2)

you know that one conversation john had with bonnie that day on the porch? the one where he told her about his past. remember? how he mentioned his wife, son... daughter. well he never said much of her, and of course it leads a mind to wander as to who this girl was. did she die at birth, or live to her latter childhood? we probably will never know, so i decided to let my mind create this character, caroline. the daughter of john and abigail marston.

forgive me for anyone who believes i butchered any already existing characters, or any who dislike the child marston. it's my first fan fic so be nice!(do not own red dead redemption blahblahblah)

1906

"papa?"

"yes, darlin?"

"why do you and uncle dutch shoot people?" the young girl spoke so soft and innocently. her words lightly slurring, from young age and lack of experience.

"why do ya ask that?"

"i just thought it's 'cause you don't like 'em… papa, if you stop liking me will you shoot me too?"

"course not, caroline. dutch, your mother, and i do it to protect you. you and jack."

"they didn't look like they was hurting anybody. i don't get it, pa."

"the world's a confusing place, darlin. you'll get it someday." the girl stumbled along behind her father, chewing on the sleeve of her pink cardigan. her small muddy boots patted against the soft, warm soil that baked in the texas sun. she stumbled a few times, blinded from seeing straight by her messy dark hair falling messily upon her burnt cheeks.

she was stopped by her father's hand. john stood still, observing something in the distance. they had neared a ranch of some sort, and front and center stood four beautifully kept horses. a black standard

ed is what caught his attention. it's coat glistened in the sun's rays, and it's stamina appeared tremendous. it would catch a great price in black water, and it wouldn't be such a bad horse to ride with either,

"caroline, wait here." with that the man motioned his daughter behind a rock, and started toward the hitching post.

caroline stood alone behind a large rock. she kicked a few pebbles, obviously bored. she thought of her family, and missed them. although it had only been a few hours, to a child it felt like days. earlier that day her 'family' had planned a train raid. it hadn't gone as planned, and the group got separated. while the others had already escaped, john found caroline alone near the passed train tracks. incidents following the failed raid left her stranded. likely she would had been lost for good, but that was the risk when choosing to raise a family with outlaws.

she kicked the large rock, upset at her father. she didn't like that he took so many lives, but she also thought of his last words. that they did it to protect her, her and jack. that she wouldn't understand yet. what was not to understand? her father was a murderer, and it was wrong in such an innocent mind.

what was he father up to anyways? caroline had a sudden wave of curiosity, giving in she peeked from behind the rock. her small head leaned over, slightly toppling. what she saw shocked her.

john stood near the barn where the four horses were hitched to their post. no man seemed to be in sight at the moment, and he was not about to loose his chance. the man adjusted his hat, lifting his bandana to cover his face. with that he took one last look around, and mounted the stallion. suddenly she heard another voice foreign to her, it did not belong to her father.

a man approached john. he was dressed in a worn out flannel shirt, with mudded slacks. he appeared to be just as unkempt as her father, with a stubble beard and a handle bar mustache. he pointed his finger at john, continuing to yell. caroline's eyes widened. with one swift movement john had reached for his holster, pulled out a pistol, and aimed. the barrel pointed between the man's eyes. he barely had a chance to back away before john had a chance to release the blow. she gasped, cupping her mouth between her hands. her expression turned to horror.

voices followed the crack of the bullet, loud yells. john kicked the horse into a gallop, and started toward the rock. farm hand's began to cluster around the deceased man. cries sounded as her father neared.

caroline pouted. as he arrived at the rock, he spoke sternly holding a hand down to his daughter,

"here!" she dropped her arms to lay limp at her sides. her step back followed by her expression should have been enough to explain.

"c'mon!" he yelled at the young girl. a slight whimper escaped her lips as she gave in and took her father's hand. he lifted her, dangling her body before dropping her between him and the black horse's neck. the thick coal colored hair tickled her finger tips as she gripped them to keep steady. the horse took off down the road, weaving in and out. off and on the road to loose the searching law men.

eventually he lost them, a victorious gain of a wonderful horse. now all that was left was to find where the gang had set up camp. caroline stuttered, sucking up her tears before she spoke.

"papa, why'd you take that man's horse?"

" i'm… only borrowing it, darlin."

"but why? why'd you shoot him?"

" i told you to stay hidden. why'd you look!"

"i'm sorry, pa." the girl whimpered, tears filling her sockets.

there was a long silence, for longer than a few minutes. by that time they neared the camp. the sun was setting and a fire blazed in the center. the light castled a reflection on the figures sitting by it. an eleven year old jack sat next to his mother, bundled as she poked at the fire. somewhere to the right dutch stood talking to bill, probably discussing another plan. the horse pulled to a stop near the camp. john lifted caroline off the tall horse after dismounting it. she darted for dutch em

acing him with a hug. he patted her on the head in response,

"uncle dutch!"

"there you are, sweetheart. i was worried about you."

"yeah, 'fore you left her alone for dead." john remarked,

"ain't you just a ray of sunshine, john."

" got us a pretty good horse, not that it means anything. thought we could sell it or somethin."

"well hey, the boy did something right for once. taught ya well."