Alexandria's eyes fluttered open. The room was bright from the fire and some oil lanterns they had placed by her bed. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, the world spinning as she slowly sat up. Hosea and Sadie were sitting by her side. Sadie grabbed at her shoulder, trying to keep her from moving too much. Slowly she was lowered back onto the bed.

"Careful, you idiot," Sadie says, her voice firm yet very gentle. "We warned you."

Alexandria's gaze searched the room, taking in the warm fireplace warmth and her friends' concerned expressions.

"John?" she managed to ask, her voice hoarse.

"He's alive," Hosea said, his eyes softening. "But he's in bad shape right now. But he's alive and resting."

Alexandria nodded, her eyes drifting closed again. The warmth of the cabin was a stark contrast to the bitter cold of the mountain.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

---

When she woke the next morning, the storm had abated to a gentle patter of snow against the windows. The cabin was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the soft breathing of those around her. She pushed herself up on her elbows. Hosea and Sadie were there, they had taken turns to keep her warm and fed.

"You're awake," Hosea said, his face etched with lines of worry that hadn't been there the day before.

Alexandria nodded, her head feeling heavy. She glanced over to where John lay on another makeshift bed, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling steadily. Relief flooded through her.

"Is he okay?" she asked, her voice scratchy from disuse.

Hosea nodded.

"He's alive, stitched him up good. He is stuck in bed for the time being to heal up."

Alexandria nodded, feeling the weight of the previous day's events pressing down on her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the floorboards cold beneath her feet. She had to get up, had to move. She had to ensure everyone else was okay. Hosea pushes a steaming bowl of broth into her hands.

"Eat," he ordered gently. "You can't keep going on like this. You're going to end up a lot worse than John if you don't take care of yourself."

Alexandria took a tentative sip, the warmth spreading through her chest like a comforting blanket. It had been hours since their return from the mountain, and the adrenaline had long worn off, leaving her feeling weak and empty. The taste of the broth was simple but heavenly, filling her with a sense of security she hadn't felt in days. The door to the cabin creaked open, and Arthur stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. They settled on her, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flash of concern before his usual stoic expression took over. He walked over to her, his boots thudding heavily against the wood. He stopped a couple of feet from her, his hands on his hips as he assessed her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gruffly.

Alexandria took another sip of the broth before answering.

"Better," she said, her voice stronger than she felt.

Arthur's gaze shifted to John's prone form, his expression unreadable.

"Good," he said simply, his eyes lingering on their injured friend. "We need everyone at full strength around here."

With a nod mostly to himself, he turned to leave. He had to check on the other cabin, make sure the rest of the men were holding up and that the camp was secure. The storm had barely passed but they weren't out of danger—not by a long shot. As he stepped out into the crisp morning air, the cold hit him like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the harsh world they lived in. The snow had transformed the camp into a winter wonderland, but the beauty was marred by the smell of smoke. After he left, Alexandria finished the stew Hosea had given her and took a deep breath, pushing herself to her feet. She knew she couldn't lie around while there was work to be done. Despite her weakened state, she felt a surge of energy- she had to help. She pulled on her warmest layers, her movements methodical as she checked her rifle and grabbed her knife. The door to the cabin opened again, and Dutch stepped in, his eyes immediately finding hers. He looked her over, assessing her condition before asking.

"You up to joining us for a task?"

Alexandria nodded determination in her eyes. She knew she couldn't rest while the camp was still in danger.

"What do we need to do?" she asked, her voice stronger than it had been moments ago.

Dutch's gaze was serious as he spoke.

"Arthur had been jumped in the barn back at the Alder place. The man said there was an O'Driscoll camp just down the mountain. I don't want them coming after us."

He paused, his eyes searching hers.

"You're not in the best of health, but I need you out there. Your shooting and tracking skills are second to none, and we need to know where they are."

Hosea sighed heavily, his eyes filled with concern.

"Dutch, the girl just came back from near death herself. You can't be asking this of her."

Sadie looked at Hosea with a mix of frustration and admiration.

"You know she's as stubborn as a mule," she said, her voice a soft reprimand. "And she's got more grit in her than the whole camp combined."

Hosea's eyes flickered to her, his expression unreadable. But he knew Sadie was right. Alexandria had always had a way of pushing through, no matter the odds.

"Just don't overdo it," he said finally, his voice gruff but resigned.

Alexandria nodded solemnly, her hand resting on the butt of her revolver.

"I won't," she promised.

She knew the stakes were high, but she also knew that she couldn't let fear hold her back. Following Dutch, she stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, the cold stinging her cheeks and nose. Butternut nickered softly as she approached, sensing her mistress's determination. Alexandria noticed the marks on her flank from the wolf. Alexandria stroked the horse's neck, whispering words of comfort and thanks before swinging into the saddle. The other men were already mounted, their faces a mix of respect and wariness as they looked at her. She knew what they were thinking- a girl in their midst, especially one so obviously affected by the elements, was a liability. But she had proven herself before, and she would do so again. They set off, the sound of hoof beats muffled by the thick blanket of snow. The trail was easy to follow, even in the fading light. Alexandria felt her heart quicken with each step, her body taut with anticipation of the confrontation to come. As they rode, Dutch spoke up, his voice carrying over the muted sounds of the snow-covered landscape.

"You all know why we're here," he said, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and determination. "Colm O'Driscoll's been a thorn in our side for too long after what he did to Annabelle."

Alexandria felt a pang of sadness for the love Dutch had lost. It was clear from his clenched jaw and the way his hand tightened on the reins that the memory still haunted him. But she knew that now was not the time for grief-- now was the time for action. They followed the hoofprints, the horses' breaths plumbing in the cold air. The trail grew clearer as they approached the O'Driscoll camp, the smell of smoke from their fires reaching them before they could see the camp itself.

"Alright, lady and gentleman, this is it," Dutch said, turning to face the rest of us. "Are we goddamn ready?"

"Ready Dutch," the men answered him.

"Good," Dutch said, nodding briefly his voice firm. "Now Mr Morgan and I are going to head up here a little. See if we can get a sense of the layout of the camp. Mr Williamson, Mr Bell, and Miss Clarke you three take up a hidden position just outside the camp. Mr Summers and Mr Escuella you two hold position here. Let's go."

The gang dismounted, and their horses remained close to each other. Arthur and Dutch approached the cliff's edge, the O'Driscoll camp sprawling out before them like an ugly stain on the pristine snow. Alexandria's breath came out in white puffs as she studied the layout, her eyes narrowing. The camp was bustling with activity, the figures of the outlaws moving about like ants around a disturbed anthill. Micah and Bill flanked her, their breathing shallow and wary. They picked their way down the mountain, staying low to the ground to avoid detection. The snow crunched under their boots, each step a silent prayer that they wouldn't be heard. The cold had seeped into their bones, but the adrenaline of the hunt kept them moving, their eyes never leaving the camp below. Alexandria felt the weight of her rifle against her shoulder, her hands resting comfortably on the grip. She had never felt more alive than she did in these moments of quiet tension, the anticipation of the battle to come pulsing through her veins like a second heartbeat. Micah and Bill followed closely, their movements mirroring hers as they slid through the trees, their breaths in the cold air. The camp grew larger with each step, the smell of cooking meat wafting up to them on the wind. Her stomach rumbled, a reminder that she hadn't eaten since the stew that morning. But food was not what they were there for. Vengeance, supplies, survival-those were the words that danced in her head like a macabre waltz. Dutch signaled for them to stop, his hand flat against the wall. We had taken up hiding behind it out of sight of the O'Driscolls. They were close now, close enough to hear the murmur of voices and the occasional laugh. Arthur's eyes found hers, his expression grim but determined. In a swift movement, Arthur rose and aimed, firing the first shot into the camp. The sound of the gunfire was deafening in the stillness of the mountain air. Chaos erupted as the O'Driscolls scrambled for their weapons. The gang sprang into action, moving out of their cover and descending into the fray. Alexandria covered Arthur's and Dutch's backs as they went. She barely paid any attention to Dutch's curses to the O'Driscolls. The fight was brutal and quick. The O'Driscolls were caught off-guard, and the gang's precision and unity were unmatched. Men fell, their cries for mercy muffled by the thick snow. The air was filled with the acrid scent of gunpowder and the metallic tang of blood. Alexandria's heart raced as she fired shot after shot, her eyes never leaving her targets. Each bullet found its mark, a silent promise of justice for Jake and all the others who had suffered at the hands of the O'Driscolls. The gang moved like a well-oiled machine, their movements synchronized and deadly. The snow around them grew crimson as the outlaws fell, their lifeblood staining the pristine white. The gunfire grew sporadic, then ceased as the last of the O'Driscolls dropped to the ground. The silence that followed was eerie, the only sounds were the heavy breathing of the gang and the distant echoes of the battle. Alexandria's heart pounded in her chest as she stepped out from behind the cover, her rifle at the ready. She watched as the others moved among the fallen, searching for anything that could be useful to them. Suddenly, a shot rang out from the woods, shattering the stillness like a bolt of lightning. Instinct took over and she dropped to one knee, her eyes scanning the tree line. She spotted more O'Driscolls ducking behind trees, she fired killing one or two as the others took off running. The gang regrouped, their eyes sharp and their movements swift. The air was with the smell of gunpowder and the acrid tang of fear. The snow around them was marred by the dark splatters of blood, a stark reminder of the brutality that had just unfolded. Once the coast was clear, they resumed their search of the camp. Alexandria's eyes searched the camp, her mind already planning her next steps. She knew that food and supplies would be crucial for the camp's survival, and she was determined to find something to bolster their dwindling stocks. She moved with purpose, her boots crunching through the snow as she approached one of the large buildings, her heart racing with anticipation. The door was open a crack, and she nudged it wider with her shoulder, her rifle at the ready. Inside, the room was a mess- overturned crates and scattered supplies littered the floor. But amidst the chaos, she spotted a glint of metal that made her pulse quicken. A small stash of canned food and dried goods was hidden in the corner, almost as if someone had been hoarding them for themselves. With a grim smile, she gathered the supplies into a makeshift sack and slung it over her shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was something. As she turned to leave she heard a noise from the back of the building - a soft rustling that sent a shiver down her spine. Her hand tightened around the rifle, and she approached the sound cautiously. Micah's voice cut through the silence.

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"Dutch, come look at his," he called out, his excitement palpable.

Alexandria released the breath she had been holding. She relaxed a little as her curiosity piqued, she quickened her pace. She found him in a small office, a sheaf of papers spread out on the desk before him. His eyes were wide with excitement, and he was grinning like a fox in a henhouse.

"What did you find?" Dutch asked, his own eyes alight with interest as he approached them on his horseback.

Micah held up a rolled-up page and went to meet him outside. Alexandria followed alongside him.

"Looks like the O'Driscolls had some big plans," he said, his voice low. "The train heist that they mentioned."

Alexandria's eyes narrowed as she stepped closer.

"Let me see," she said, holding out her hand.

Micah handed her the paper, and she scanned the hastily scribbled notes with a frown.

"This is... ambitious," she murmured, her mind racing with the implications. "They must been desperate to think they could pull this off."

The trio had made their way back outside to the others. Dutch climbs into the saddle of his horse. Arthur emerged from one of the nearby buildings, he tucked some of the explosives into his saddle bags as Bill carried out a crate full. Arthur's eyes met hers, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. Alexandria handed the page to Dutch who tucked it under his coat for safety.

"Looks like we've got more than we bargained for," Dutch said, his eyes scanning over the paper. "But that's the kind of thing that keeps us ahead of them."

They mounted up, their horses snorting in the cold, eager to move. Dutch looked around at the gang, a proud smile on his face. As they start their trek back up the mountain.

"Good work, everyone. I am proud of you boys. All of you," Dutch announces.

Alexandria scrolls at him and laughs softly.

"And girl," he adds with a wink at Alexandria. "We've done what needed to be done. We're gonna keep on outsmarting these bastards. They won't know what hit 'em."

Alexandria nodded in agreement, her eyes scanning the horizon as the last of the light of day bled into the night. As the shadows grew longer, Dutch tapped his horse's flanks, urging it into a trot.

"Let's get back to camp before we're caught out here in the dark with more company than we'd like," he said.

But as they rode, a lone figure emerged from the trees ahead, a silhouetted against the fading light. Recognition dawned on Dutch's face, and his hand tightened on the reins.

"Hey, you see that feller? Wasn't he at the camp with Colm?" Dutch asked, his voice filled with anger.

"Leave him to me," Arthur growled, his voice thick and gruff.

Alexandria nodded, understanding the unspoken words behind Arthur's demand. She knew he needed this. She watched as Arthur spurred his horse into a gallop, closing the distance between them and the fleeing O'Driscoll. The man, Kieran Duffy, was no match for Arthur's skilled horsemanship. Within moments, Arthur had lassoed him, pulling him off his horse and onto the cold, unforgiving ground. Duffy's cries for mercy pierced the night, echoing through the trees as Arthur quickly secured him with ropes.

"Since when do you lasso now?" Alexandria asked, a hint of a tease in her voice.

"It's a skill that's come in handy more than once," Arthur said with a grim smile, his breath frosting in the air.

Duffy's eyes grew wide with terror as he realized his fate was sealed. Arthur tosses Duffy onto the back of his horse before swinging up into his saddle. They turned their horses back towards the direction of the camp. They rode hard, their horses' hooves echoing through the now-silent camp. The night was closing in, the shadows stretching long and dark across the snow. The cold seeped into their bones, but they didn't stop—they couldn't afford to. The stolen supplies were precious, and they needed to get them back to camp as quickly as possible.

"I don't know," Duffy replied, panic-stricken,

"You don't know your name?" Arthur said, a mocking tone in his voice.

Alexandria shook her head a smile forming on her lips as she listened to the two men.

"It's Kieran," Duffy replied, still rattled from the whole ordeal.

"Kieran what?"

"Duffy. Kieran Duffy."

"Well, I ain't going to lie to you... this is a real bad day for you, Kieran Duffy."

"Where are you taking me?" Duffy asked panic still in his voice.

"Somewhere you ain't gonna like.." Arthur said, a mischievous hint to his tone.

"Why? What are you gonna do to me?" Duffy asked, panic fully returning to his voice.

"Something you ain't gonna like," Alexandria chipped in. "So I'd advise you to save your breath for screaming."

Their horses surged forward, and the cold air whipped past them as they grew closer to the camp.

"No, please," Duffy begged. "Please, Mister."

"You better shut your mouth, you little shit or I will shut it for you," Arthur snapped, he was growing more frustrated with Duffy.

Duffy had fallen silent. The wind picked up a little, carrying with it the whispers of the pine trees and the distant howl of a lone wolf. Alexandria shivered, not from the cold but from the tension that had coiled around them like a snake, tightening its grip with each passing moment. She nudged her horse closer to Arthur's, the warmth of the animal a comfort against the biting wind.

"I think I am gonna puke." Groaned Duffy. "I don't know anything real about them, Honest! Ugh, take it easy. You're gonna break my ribs."

"Are you trying to test me, is that it?" Arthur grunts, clearly annoyed. "Because I will break every bone in your body."

Alexandria smirks softly, the corner of her mouth twitching at Arthur's harsh tone. She mumbles something under her breath, but it's too low for Duffy to hear. Arthur's eyes dart to her, a question in his gaze.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Okay?" Duffy murmured.

"Not one more word goddamn word, am I clear?" Arthur snapped at Duffy then he shot a look at Alexandria.

"Okay, okay," Duffy replied.

"That's two bones, right there."

They arrived at camp with their stolen supplies, the warm glow of the campfire guiding them through the dark. The flames danced and leaped, casting flickering shadows across the faces of the men waiting for them. Dutch, Bill, and Uncle emerged from the shadows, their expressions a mix of relief and anger at the sight of them returning. Dutch called out to Bill and Uncle asking them to tie Duffy in the barn as he gestured towards it. Bill and Uncle grabbed Duffy, dragging him along as if he were a sack of grain. Duffy's protests grew weaker as he was hoisted into the air, his feet dangling uselessly. The barn was cold and draughty, the stench of fear and sweat filling the space as they left him to contemplate his fate. The campfire was a beacon of warmth and light, and the gang gathered around it, the heat seeping into their chilled bones. Dutch stepped forward, clapping Arthur on the back.

"Good work, son," he said, a proud smile spreading across his face. "And you, Miss Clarke."

He turned to her, his eyes shining with admiration.

"You're turning into quite the member of Van der Linde again. We sure did miss you."

Alexandria felt a warmth spread through her, despite the cold. It had been a long time since anyone had called her that, and it felt like coming home. Hosea had stepped out to see the commotion. She handed over the makeshift sack of supplies to Hosea, who took it with a nod of thanks. Dutch strode towards the cabin, the stolen paperwork crunching in his hand.

"We've got some planning to do," he said over his shoulder. "The O'Driscolls might have had the upper hand before, but we're gonna hit that train before they do."

Once the cabin door closed behind Dutch Alexandria turned to Arthur, her eyes searching his face.

"You alright?" she asked, her voice low.

He nodded curtly, his gaze never leaving the door Dutch disappeared behind.

"Let's get some food," she suggested gently, laying a hand on his arm. "You need to eat something, and warm up."

Arthur looked at her, his eyes meeting hers, and for a moment, she saw the exhaustion etched in the lines of his face. He nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Let's do that."

They made their way to the main cabin. Once they stepped inside, the warmth was a welcome embrace after the chilling air outside. The other gang members greeted them with nods of respect and camaraderie. They grabbed a bowl of stew that had been made for them. They found some empty seats by the fire. As they ate, the fire crackled and popped, casting a warm, flickering light on their faces. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of coffee and the faint hint of tobacco from the men smoking. As they sat, the tension between Arthur and Alexandria grew palpable. They had shared so much in such a short time—pain, fear, victory, and now, this quiet moment of reprieve. Their eyes met, and for a brief second, it was as if no one else was in the room. The connection they had forged in the aftermath of the battle was undeniable, and the old feelings that had once simmered between them began to rise to the surface again. The warmth of the cabin was a stark contrast to the frigid air outside, but it was nothing compared to the heat that grew between them as they shared a knowing look. They had always had a bond, ever since she first rode into their lives, a wild spirit looking for a place to belong. And now, after everything they had been through, it felt like that old bond was stronger than ever. As they ate in silence, the weight of the day's events settled heavily on their shoulders. The victory was sweet, but the cost was high. Jake's loss was a fresh wound that hadn't had the chance to heal yet. The fire crackled, throwing shadows that danced on the walls, telling silent stories of battles past and those yet to come. Alexandria pulled out a small pouch from her pocket and offered Arthur a cigarette. He took it with a nod of thanks, the gesture a silent acknowledgment of their shared burdens. She lit one for herself, the warmth of the tobacco wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. The smoke curled up into the air, joining with the steam from their mugs of coffee, creating a cloud that hung above them like a protective veil. They continued to sit in companionable silence, the crackle of the fire and the occasional conversation of the people around them broke the quiet. Arthur leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing as the warmth seeped into him. Alexandria watched him, her eyes softening as a blush crept up her neck. A memory of them almost getting caught together by Hosea flashed before her eyes. The cigarette burned down to her fingers, snapping her out of her thoughts. She hastily stubbed it out, the smell of burnt tobacco lingering in the air. Arthur's eyes remained on her, a question in their depths. She took a deep breath, letting the warmth fill her lungs before speaking.

"We should go hunting tomorrow," She said, attempting to change the subject. "I don't know how long we will be trapped up here and I don't want our supplies to dwindle."

Arthur nodded, the tension between them dissipating slightly.

"You're right," he said. "We'll need all the food we can get."

His voice was gruff but held a hint of gratitude for the distraction. They finished their meals in silence and cigarettes, the weight of the day's events pressing down on them like a heavy blanket. Finally, Alexandria rose, stretching her arms out before her.

"We should get some sleep," she said, her voice gentle. "We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Arthur nodded in agreement, pushing himself up from his chair.

"Aye," he said. "We'll make plans to go hunting in the morning."

His eyes searched hers, the question hanging unspoken between them. Alexandria felt the warmth of his gaze, the weight of their unspoken words like a blanket that she didn't want to shed. She took a step closer, her heart racing as she looked up into his eyes.

"Goodnight, Arthur," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

The air grew thick with the unspoken emotions that swirled around them. For a moment, it seemed as if the entire world had stopped spinning, leaving only the two of them in the warm, flickering light of the fire. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek with a tenderness she hadn't seen from him in years.

"Goodnight, Darlin'," he murmured, his voice thick with feeling.

Alexandria's heart skipped a beat, and she had to force herself to take a step back. She knew if she didn't, she might do something she would regret later. With a tremulous smile, she turned away from him, heading towards her own Cabin where Sadie, Susan, and the other girls slept. Once she was in her cabin, she relaxed. The plank floor creaked softly under her boots, the sound echoing through the quiet cabin. She lay down, her heart racing as she listened to the gentle sounds of the others settling in for the night.