Chapter Text
The sheriff understood. With Molly and the pregnant woman in distress, there was no way they couldn’t, which is a relief considering how much men are allowed to antagonize women. I suppose putting your hands on one is where the line gets drawn.
“Micah?” Molly whispered as they rode back, not wishing for Uncle to hear, but still wanting to keep it casual.
“What?” Micah asked, harsher than he wanted to go for.
“Why’d you do this? You can prove yourself on your own.”
Micah couldn’t find a way to word the truth into his favor or string it in a way to make his sound brave, so he finally admitted, “I don’t want to be like this forever. I don’t know if this group will work out in my favor, but I’ve ain’t one to back down without a fight.” He words it as though he’s boasting, but Molly notices the absence of that cruel smile on his face. Therefore, she laughs, trying to raise the spirits. She can’t remember when she began to care, but she supposes that caring isn’t a bad thing.
———
5 months
“Who the fuck’s next?!” Molly yelled, her pants and tan shirt dirtied. Micah had taken her handkerchief off, claiming that for her first fistfight she should wear the least that she can.
Micah knows she has a temper, but he didn’t anticipate her to be this angry. After the man grabbed her shirt to drag her toward him, she punched the shit out of him. People had been yelling about how she was cheating and how she wasn’t truly a woman, but Micah would always interrupt with, “Does it matter if she’s not a woman? Last I checked, men could participate.” After that, they’d shut up and began telling him to “get his lady outta this town!”
Of course, he never made her leave and never will. After Molly’s winnings, they were running and laughing wildly. Uncle claimed that after that first fight, he was never coming again, which Molly and Micah were fine with.
“We are geniuses!” Molly announced, standing close to Micah, which she would have never done when they first started this group of theirs.
Micah snorts, mumbling a, “Didn’t need you to tell me that.” and shaking her hand (since there’s no fist bump). They both stormed into the car, Uncle in tow. “You ain’t so terrible yourself, Old Man. Arthur doesn’t have a clue of what he speaks of!” Molly confidentially told Uncle, adrenaline still high, her bruised shoulder throbbing.
Uncle stammered, causing Micah and Molly to break into laughter. “You can’t even talk to a lady!” Molly teases, resulting in Uncle angrily mumbling before walking off into the bar.
“I’m enjoyin’ not bein’ under Dutch’s finger!” Micha loudly tells Molly before awkwardly turning to face her. “I- uh- not like that’s a bad thing.”
“No,” Molly sternly says. “I don’t love him anymore to care.” Micah’s a tad surprised, but then loudly laughs because it wasn’t entirely unexpected.
“C’mon, let’s get drinks!”
Molly didn’t drink much, claiming how much of a fool she was when drunk, then turning red and looking the opposite direction when she remembered “the last incident”.
Suddenly, they heard someone loudly shout something they couldn’t make out. The bartender attempted to yell over them, only to be told to shut up by a fat-ish man. The man wasn’t in the best shape, but he unarguably looked strong.
Molly dropped the drink she was lightly sipping on when she spotted Dutch. “Good, Sir,” an offended Dutch on the other side of the bar reasoned. “I have done no such thing. Now, I will leave you be if you leave us be.”
The man huffed loudly, scoffing and then laughing. “You…You’re lying to me to weasel yourself and your buddies outta trouble!” the man continued to shout. “You told him to knock inta me!!”
Sean nervously raises his hands, attempting to get in a word, but Dutch holds his hand out, signaling him to keep quiet in fear of him further angering the man.
The drunken man abruptly grips Dutch by his collar. That’s when Molly forcefully shoves Dutch away from the man in order to help him. “Get off of him, you drunken fool!” she shouts with overconfidence, but knowing what she’s getting into. Ever since the pregnant lady, she can’t help but assist people when they need it, dragging a bored Micah and complaining Uncle along…but it’s always been worth it to her. Well, and to the guys once most people paid them.
“Or what?” the man grunts.
The best thing about being a woman is that they usually never see the hits coming, so after he catches Molly’s first hit, a taunting smirk on his face, she slams him in the gut with her other.
He grunts with pain, alcohol making him less prone to pain. He throws a punch, but due to her height she can easily duck down. If he wasn’t so huge, she’d tackle him, but she honestly doesn’t know if she can, so instead she goes for his legs.
He falls over and that’s when all He’ll breaks loose. One guy turns into 6 and she’s in the middle of it all.
Uncle isn’t one to feel the need to be in a fight. Sometimes he’d feel a twinge of this feeling that he couldn’t quite place, but only until he saw those men trying to fight Molly did he finally realize that what he was feeling was protection.
Arthur, Charles, or even Javier or Bill aren’t here to be everyone’s muscle. Dutch and Sean could only do so much, so of course Uncle finally felt a duty to do something. Christ, he thought with a groan, half annoyed and half scared.
He grabbed one man into a headlock, his grip firm. The man just barely struggled out due to Uncle not fighting much. “This really ain’t my fault,” he tried to explain, but the man refused to listen. Calling out, “Shit!” he used his weight to throw the man. With a laugh, he exclaims, “I didn’t know I could do that!
Loudly, a group of men scream, “Enough!” Everybody halts, staring at the police men and noticing that the bartender is missing. “Damn snitch,” Micah lowly grumbles to himself.
They all turn to Molly when she spits out a tooth, meeting a furious and stubborn look painted on her face. “You’ll need to kill me to take me!” she exclaims, starting up the chaos all over again. Now, everybody is bolting for a way out of the bar.
———
“Are we gonna talk about this?” Dutch grumbles, which Molly responds to with a sarcastic, “I dunno, Dutch. You tell me!”
Uncle groans, still in his chair. “C’mon, Guys! Let’s just put this behind us,” he reasons, always having been good at getting on Dutch’s good side before today.
Dutch sighs, pitching the bridge of his nose before explaining, “I ain’t mad, per say, just…puzzled. Molly is now apparently a street fighter.-”
Molly interrupts his speech to proudly and defiantly say, “Damn right I am!”
“Uncle actually wants to help y'all..?”
“My lumbago has never been this good,” Uncle says, nodding.
”Micah is…well. Micah hasn’t really done much, but he hasn’t been racist, so congratulations?”
Micah gives himself a smug pat on the back.
Sean pipes up, “Shouldn’t we be doin’ somethin’ about this? I mean, you’re one tough lady, Molly, but you’ve still got lots to learn about gettin’ yourself into fights.” Molly narrows her eyes, then confidentially tells him off, “I’ll learn.”
“Well, I gotta give it to ya, Dutch, you’ve got a feisty one.”
Dutch waves Sean off, too focused on the group for Sean’s antics. After a brief period of thought, Dutch accepts, “I won’t stop you.” Even Micah is slightly surprised. He doesn’t waste time to praise Dutch, “We knew you’d understand, Dutch-” He suddenly stops himself. “Y’know what? I actually had absolutely no clue if you’d understand. I kinda did this partially to piss you off.
“Is that so?”
Molly gives Micah a confused look before remembering what he’s been saying the whole time from the beginning. “I don’t want to be like this forever.” (Previous chapter.) “I’m sorry, Dutch- Fuck, being honest is hard. I actually ain’t sorry. But I am sorry that I ain’t sorry.”
“Micah?” Dutch asks.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
With that cleared up, there was no reason to keep them. “Go, all of you. Just make sure you all work,” Dutch orders. “Molly, c’mere.”
Micah gives Molly a look before leaving with Uncle. “Molly, I am…sorry I came to that bar lookin’ for you.”
Molly’s eyes widen, surprised at the confession, but attempting at keep cool as she asks, “That so?”
“C’mon, Miss O’Shea. Don’t make me beg.”
Dutch sighs, visibly feeling guilty, which loosens Molly up a bit. “You three just always left camp and it made me wonder what you all were doin’. You clearly tried not to make it a public thing,” Dutch tells her, looking into her eyes. “Was Micah training you? I could’ve done that.” Molly sighs, sadly telling Dutch, “No. You couldn’t. But…that’s okay.”
She kisses him on the cheek, then tells him, “I should get back to work.”
“Right…” Dutch cleared his throat. “See you later Miss ‘Shea.”
“See you, Dutch.”