"A Storm in the West", Chapter Nine
Title: A Storm in the West
Chapter: 9/13
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations, violence.
Summary: A saloon owner with an enigmatic past, an idealistic sheriff, a remorseful shotgun messenger, and the town that unites them.
It had been meant for him. That shot had been meant for him, and yet there was Nino, lying in the dirt, his life slowly leaking out. Where had he been hit? There was no time.
“Sho! Hurry up!”
Jun hurriedly reloaded his revolvers, shots whizzing past his ears, and he finally heard the shotgun blast he’d been waiting for. Too bad it had taken Ninomiya getting shot for the sheriff to join the firefight. Sho was firing at close quarters, and his aim was good enough to send a bunch of the staggering, sleepy gunmen flying.
He quickly joined in, sending more targeted shots off to the few still coming from the tents. “Cover me!” he screamed, trusting that Sho would just keep firing now that he’d started. There were half a dozen bodies now between him and Ninomiya. He crawled over the corpses to Nino, who was moaning low in his throat and clutching at his shoulder. Well, now he and the saloon owner would have a matching set of scars.
“Mendoza,” Nino was mumbling, going in and out of consciousness. There was no way they could retreat, not without finishing what they’d started. Jun tore at his shirt, ripping the fabric in haste. He balled it up and stuck it between Nino’s blood-soaked hand and the wound.
“Pressure. Keep pressure on it. We’re going to finish this.”
Ninomiya could only groan in pain as a response. One of the men around him who hadn’t died yet was tugging on Jun’s ankle. It was a waste of a round that belonged between Mendoza’s eyes, but he wasn’t entirely merciless. He pulled the trigger, ending the man’s suffering and hurried to his feet.
Sho was still holding off the remaining few outside, but they had to go for the big boss. As Sho reloaded his own weapon, Jun ran off, praying there’d be some lanterns inside the cave to guide him. Thankfully, there were a few. He dodged barrels of loot, squeezing around corners in his search.
“Wait,” he heard from behind him. It was the sheriff. “Don’t let me lose sight of you! Jun, wait!”
But there was no time to wait. A man was bleeding out. A man who’d wanted him dead for years, but he’d still saved his life. He owed it to Ninomiya to finish the job. One drunken gunman came around the corner, screaming for Mendoza. Jun fired before the man could finish saying his boss’ name, and he stepped over the body, not stopping.
The cave floor kept going down, and the temperature cooled as Jun descended further inside. Two men, three…then four went down. Mendoza was running out of inebriated fools for him to kill. The cave curved around, and he stopped to take a breath. Couldn’t be much more left.
Hurried steps behind him. Sho had finally caught up. He checked the chambers. He had three rounds in the left, two in the right. Would it be enough? He didn’t care, steeling himself to face the big man himself. This was for Ninomiya.
--
He’d managed to knock over a barrel of gunpowder on his way after Jun. It was clinging to the blood on his pant legs, and he was probably leaving a trail after him. Hopefully nobody from outside had followed them in, intent to corner them. Didn’t Jun ever think about things like that?
His mind was muddled, and all he could see were the terrified eyes of the men he’d just killed. Begging him to show mercy. And then he’d been useless, unable to help Jun, so Ninomiya had taken the bullet instead. Jun was never going to forgive him for not doing his part, and now one of them was outside, lying in a pool of his own blood. It was all his fault.
Jun was just getting ready to turn around the last corner. Mendoza had to be there. Sho said nothing. He knew Jun could hear him coming. As soon as he was there, Jun took off from his hiding spot, and Sho heard Mendoza curse in Spanish. He hurried after Jun, who’d only sent off one shot thus far.
He followed Jun around the corner, seeing Mendoza alone on the other side scrambling with some strong boxes. Was he stupid enough to try and escape with his money and stolen jewels? Sho ducked back behind the corner as Mendoza fired off an errant shot with a revolver of his own. No, he couldn’t hide. He’d hesitated enough and Nino was going to die if he didn’t help Jun now.
Jun fired another shot, and just as Sho rounded the corner, another of Mendoza’s shots hit the cave wall just inches from his head. A close call, and one he couldn’t allow the gang leader to have again. He gave chase, only now realizing that Mendoza had disappeared. He watched Jun disappear behind some Indian woven blanket hung on the wall. So the boss had an escape route and hadn’t bothered to inform any of his now dead companions? Some leader.
“Jun, wait!”
He heard Jun’s revolver go off a third time, and he ran past the strong boxes, yanking the blanket down and finding a narrow passage cut into the cave wall. An alternate way out…but where would it lead? He heard Mendoza’s screaming echoing off the walls. Begging them to let him go, and then Jun was firing again in the darkened corridor.
“He said to light the fire!” Mendoza was shouting as they chased him. “He paid in full! He said destroy the town! I didn’t want no part of you any more!”
Who? Who had paid off Mendoza? “You’re lying!” Jun cried. “You’re not getting away this time!”
“I swear! I ain’t going to Rapid Springs, oh Dios, please!”
Sho could tell the path was on an incline. They were heading back up to the surface. “Jun, stop! He has information we need. Jun!”
The sound was almost deafening as Jun sent off another shot. This one hit, but Mendoza was still running. “He said light it! It wasn’t me, it’s him you want!”
“Who?” Sho demanded. Mendoza made it to the end of the cave and turned suddenly, revolver raised in his shaking fist. Was Jun going to fire?
“It was Nagase!” Mendoza declared, and Sho saw his finger on the trigger. He dove forward without thinking, pulling Jun down as Mendoza’s desperate shot ricocheted off the cave wall.
“I’m out,” Jun muttered. “I’m out! Get him!”
--
There’d been groans all around him, and whatever cloth Jun had given him was already sticky and damp in his hand. He wanted to sleep and forget all of this, forget the way his body was aching. The pain was sharp on his left side, near his shoulder. He didn’t want to move, but he had to. He couldn’t let Jun and his little sweetie take all the credit for bringing Mendoza’s gang down.
He turned onto his right side, a fresh burst of pain shooting down the other half of his body, and he cried out. “Son of a bitch!” Now that he didn’t have the cloth clamped down, his wound was going to bleed like a stuck pig. There might still be guys in the cave, coming out, going in. He had to get them.
It was stupid to have thrown his gun away, but Nino hadn’t been able to control himself as he knocked Jun out of the way. He was paying for it now, but it was the story of his life wasn’t it? There were bodies all around him, dead or dying, and he wasn’t planning to be one of them. Not yet. Feeling a hot bullet pass through his flesh made him realize that he wasn’t as suicidal as he’d originally planned.
One of the bodies to his left had a revolver still holstered. The bastard had been so confused and surprised by their attack that he hadn’t had a chance to take it out. He could only move so fast, crawling on his belly, feeling the life draining drop by drop. Focusing was getting more and more difficult. His body wanted to quit, to make him fall unconscious to deal with the pain. But Nino was used to pain, wasn’t he?
Lifting his left hand, his usual hand, for the man’s holster was a mistake and he knew it. It was like hot fire racing through his veins. Idiot, he cursed himself. You stupid idiot. He grabbed for the gun with his right hand, wheezing and ready to black out.
They’d tried to make him write with his right hand in school, back when he’d actually gone to school. He’d get a slap each time he tried to raise his chalk with his left hand. The thought propelled him forward, fingers closing around the gun and removing it from the dead man’s holster.
There was shouting and swearing from inside the cave, getting closer. He knew that voice. The pain throbbed, but his mind took over. His vision was blurring as he rolled onto his back, hissing as he tried to lean to look up. He held out the revolver, the weight of it in his right hand unfamiliar and strange.
“It was Nagase!” He heard a shot fire back into the cave, and he aimed at the back of the man who’d shouted. It was Mendoza. The man turned around, gun still smoking, and he ran. But he hadn’t counted on one of the bodies on the ground firing at him.
The trigger felt strange under his finger, but it was now or never. He wasn’t used to this arm, and the force of it flattened him. He let go of the revolver, hearing the other man groan between him and the cave. Nino took a deep breath, blinking at the stars above him.
He saw Sho’s panicked face, sharp jabs of pain as the man tried to stop his wound from bleeding. “Nino! Nino, stay with me.”
“Mendoza…is he?”
“He’s dead. You got him.”
He smiled, feeling his eyes fluttering a bit. “Good.” And then he knew nothing at all.
------
Jun stared down at Mendoza's crumpled, still warm form and kicked at him a bit with the toe of his boot, just to make sure. Dead alright; blood foam was still bubbling on his lips. He reached down and grabbed the revolver from the dead man's fingers. There were still some rounds left, and he was out- last thing he wanted was more trouble, after they'd done what they set out for. But there was a coiling in his stomach, low and hard and hot. Mendoza hadn't been the one behind the fire, he'd been paid.
Dammit. Jun had known it, known it all along that Nagase wouldn't let him go. Hadn't even been his fault the cattle spooked and man, but he was a dead man. He'd stayed 'round Rapid Springs and been the last fiber in the town's noose. The guilt felt worse when it compounded with all the rest he carried around on his shoulders, and he gave Mendoza's side another mean-spirited kick just because he could. Dammit.
"Jun!" came the cry from outside the cave, strangled and warbling. "Jun!"
Shit, Ninomiya. And Sho was out there with his hands pressed against the saloon owner's shoulder like his own fingers could stop the flow of life. Jun ran out to where the two were, Sho leaning over Nino's still form. Too-still. Too, too still, and the revolver he'd used to hit Mendoza square in the chest was lying in the sand next to his stained hand.
"Let me see," Jun said, pushing past Sho rougher than he needed to. His hands were moving without volition- the man had taken a bullet for him, least Jun could do was make sure he came out okay. But Nino's breathing was shallow, and his shirt was soaked through.
Next to him, Sho shifted on his knees in the granules. "He gonna make it?"
"Not here," Jun said, tearing more off the bottom of his shirt. In strips, he could wind it around Nino's upper arm and try to keep the life inside; the man's blood was hot and red even under the moon. Around him there were men groaning, slowly dying out on the sands, but he couldn't spare them a glance. There was one body he wasn't gonna let grow cold, and he'd be damned if he left Ninomiya there to join the gang boys.
He jerked the man upright, and was rewarded with a groan of pain- it was good. It was a reaction, at least, and that much was a good sign.
"What now?" Sho was asking, scurrying to his feet. There was something haunted in his eyes that reflected in the starlight, but Jun didn't have time to him- sheriff didn't seem to be hurt that he could see, so he fell away from Jun's peripheral vision. Had to focus; had to get Nino someplace they could find help. Rapid Springs was way too far a ride, and the man would be dead before the following nightfall.
"Cooks Peak is north of here," Jun answered, half-dragging, half-carrying Nino towards the Express station where the horses were hitched. The saloon owner's boots drug in the sand, making lines that trailed behind them like tracks of blood. "We go north and get him to the doc there. Ain't got time to go anywhere else now."
Nino was heavy, but maybe it was just that Jun's shoulders were screaming already. Been a long time since he rode with an injured man on the saddle with him.
"But he's gonna be alright?"
Sho was scared, and it was obvious, but Jun just didn't have time for it. "I dunno."
"You dunno?" Sakurai got in his face just 'fore they reached the post, eyes wide, and Jun brushed him aside with his shoulder, propping Nino up against the wall as best he could. The barkeep's cheek hit the wood and he groaned again, eyelids fluttering. They didn't open all the way, but he mumbled something into the grains, and then fell silent once more, shoulders slumping. Jun grabbed for the reins and spun them back around the post, freeing his mare.
"I'm not a fortune teller," he snapped, feeling guilty even as the words left his mouth. "But I ain't gonna let him die if I can do anything about it."
Ninomiya was getting heavier, but Sho seemed to finally get the hint and helped Jun get him up into the saddle. He swayed and slumped, but at least stayed upright. Jun dug his heel in the stirrup and swung his own weight over, arms going 'round Nino's limp form. Felt like he was holding a rag doll, loose and lifeless in his arms. It wasn't a particularly pleasant thought.
The leather straps were smooth against his hands.
"North," he said again. "Just follow me and don't stop for nothing."
When his spurs dug in, his mare took off into a canter across the dunes. They had hours before sunrise still, but if they could get to Cooks Peak before the orange orb peeked over the ridges on the horizon, Ninomiya stood a chance. Jun's arm tightened unconsciously around the man's form; Nino was mumbling again, murmuring something low that was too garbled from pain to decipher.
"Stupid bastard," Jun hissed, kicking his heels again. "Stay alive, you stupid bastard."
They didn't see anything else on the ride towards Cooks Peak. No horses, no cavalry, not even snakes sliding through the sands in the coolness of night. The pounding of their mounts' hooves against the dunes were the only sounds against their ears, and it was at least enough to help Jun block out thoughts of Nagase's stolen pistol and blood-stained jacket. He didn't want to think 'bout the ex-confederate; he knew what Nagase was capable of. He knew, and Rapid Springs had been just another example of it, and it was his fault, the whole lot of it.
Now Ninomiya's blood was wet against Jun's arm, and that was Jun's fault, too.
Cooks Peak broke out on the horizon just as the sky started to streak with pink. It spurned Jun onward, making his breath catch in his throat. His mare was slick with sweat and panting against the bit, but she ran like the wind was on her heels until they skidded onto the dusty main drag of town between the buildings settled on the hills.
"Where?" Sho gasped, when his horse pulled up beside them, stamping. "Where now?"
"Find the doc," Jun ground out through clenched teeth. His left arm supporting Nino's dead weight had gone numb, sending sharp shocks through his shoulder. Sho dropped from the saddle and did as he was told with a quickness to his step that Jun was thankful for. He didn't care how many doors the sheriff had to bang on; he had a badge, and that would give them enough standing to merit immediate attention. Cooks Peak wasn't a place for the meek- but they didn't have much choice, and if they were lucky, that shiny star on Sakurai's lapel would get them what they needed.
He tried shaking Nino awake, but got only a sigh and another moan of hazy pain. He had to keep the man from bleeding out, and the threads wrapped around his injury were red.
There were footsteps to his right, and Sho came back, breathless.
"Got a doc," he said. "Back near the saloon, he's got a shack there."
Like the rest of the mining hopefuls, then, but it was better than nothing. Jun clicked his tongue and urged his horse forward towards the direction Sho had pointed. He would have found the doc's place even without the man himself waving at him from the doorway. Dismounting, he grabbed for Nino's body 'fore it could fall straight off the saddle into the dirt.
"Bullet?" the doc asked.
"In the shoulder," Jun answered, hauling Nino towards the open doorway. "Don't think it's too bad but we had to ride here. He's lost blood."
The doctor put a hand to the barkeep's forehead, frowning. "Hot. Get him inside."
Behind him, Sho tied both horses to the post with quick, even knots. When he was done, he slid his arm around Nino's other side to help get the injured man inside the shack. The doc's place was dingy, dark, and- well, a far cry more optimistic than the damn desert would have been. Ninomiya had better chances under the scalpel than under the midday sun.
The doctor had them lay Nino's form on the table, and Jun felt oddly helpless letting go and stepping back.
"Doc," he said, stumbling over the words. When the man turned to look at him, he couldn't think of anything he wanted to say. "Just- just save him."
"I'll do what I can," the doctor replied.
And then all they could do was watch and pray.
-----
The exhaustion crept up all at once and pounced with alarming accuracy; all of a sudden, it felt like a struggle just to pull air into his lungs. It wasn't hot yet but it felt like every part of him was on fire, and they were just sitting outside a run-down shack in a town that hadn't seen a better day yet, full of criminals and miscreants and God only knew what else. They were on the edge of civilization, on the very edge of the map where everything collided and blurred together, and Sho couldn't find his damn footing in the sand.
He didn't even know where his blade had gone. Jesus, he didn't want to know where he'd dropped it; the damned thing was stained with blood that no scrubbing was ever gonna get clean. His hands were the same way, and he could still see flecks of dried crimson on the rough ridges of his knuckles, hardened by the air and sand. He'd drawn a knife across sleeping men's throats and left them gasping for air and finding only death, a slow suffocation as they bled out onto their own sleeping mats.
Jun was a hand span away from him and the gunslinger didn't say a word. Didn't say a single thing, just sat with his lip between his teeth and his gaze far past the buildings at the bottom of the granite. No offered hand, no advice; just silence and thoughts that were obviously still locked within the doctor's shack behind them.
There was anger bubbling in Sho's chest. Anger that he'd allowed himself to fall so far from the code of law, of ethics, of morality- Boston felt like a lifetime away, back in a world where there was civility and decency. He was angry that he'd strayed, angry that the blood on his hands was real, and angry that the man sitting next to him didn't say a damn thing about it. He needed something whispered in his ear, that things would get better, and it was silent.
There was only the wind whistling past his senses, breeze cool in the sunrise.
Sho rubbed his hands together, rough pads of his thumbs grazing across hardened skin. He thought he should say something- shouldn't he? Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Jun, but the other man hadn't even moved save for the shallow hitching of his breath.
Out beyond their boots, the town was stirring a bit. Men woke hoping that that day would be their lucky one, their break, their ticket out; Sho hadn't the heart to tell them that it ain't never coming. They'd spend their whole lives toiling for some unobtainable dream, and maybe if they were lucky, they'd end up with the torn throat he could offer them. Seemed to be all he could give at the moment- a swift cut and the gurgle of death.
Jun's fingers were tapping out a nervous rhythm against his knee. Sho let his head fall into his hands- why did it suddenly feel like there was a whole desert between them?
Even when Sho moved, the man next to him didn't glance over; the beating of his fingertips increased in speed a bit, popping against his kneecap. The silence hanging between them was almost as unbearable as the screaming in Sho's thoughts, the images of the men's dying faces that hung before his mind's eyes and refused to dissipate.
Sho opened his mouth, and then closed it. When his brain had finally come up with something decent to say, he tried opening his jaw again, only to have the door to the doc's place swing open. Doctor himself stepped out, shirt covered in splotches of red.
"He's sleepin'," he announced, before either of them could ask.
Jun rose with an exhale of breath so audible Sho picked it up from his still seated position.
"Thanks," the gunslinger said. "Thanks, Doc."
He stepped inside the building without a glance backwards, and when his footsteps faded, Sho just sighed into his palms, wishing he could disappear. Wishing things were different, better- uncomplicated. Simple, like they used to be back home, even if he felt stifled in the crowded, tree-lined roads.
He didn't think he could ever go back there, not with the blood on his hands. Not anymore.
------
If only he could have slept longer. As he stirred, the butcher this town called a doctor was hovering over him, eyeing Nino through his dusty lenses. “Seen worse, boy.” He twisted the stray hairs of his mustache and dared to laugh. He had Doc Ogura’s bedside manner. Or maybe all doctors out here had a similar attitude. “Nothin’ but a spider bite.”
Well, it sure hadn’t felt like a spider bite when the bullet hit him. Unless the spider was fifty feet tall. He blinked, looking down at his body. He’d been stripped to the waist, although most of his upper half was covered in some bandaging. His whole left side felt stiff, as if the doctor had shot him up full of something to numb him. But maybe his nerves on that side were just dead. It wouldn’t surprise him.
“Thirsty,” he croaked, and his throat felt as dry as the sandy dunes back at Mendoza’s camp. Mendoza was dead. It was over now, wasn’t it?
The doc laughed again. “I bet you are. Lost a good deal of blood. I’ll get your friends. I need to sleep.”
He was alone then, sprawled across the table and helpless. Maybe the doc was fucking with him. Maybe Sho and Jun had just left him behind. But before he realized it, Matsumoto was standing behind him, holding a cool glass of water beside his cheek, close enough that Nino groaned at the droplet that fell from the glass and onto his skin.
“How did you get here so fast?”
Jun only laughed, the same strange tone like the doctor. What the hell was going on? He couldn’t move. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but he should still be able to move, shouldn’t he? It was like his spine had shattered, and he couldn’t even get his toes to wiggle.
“I died, didn’t I?” Matsumoto kept teasing with the water, not uttering a word. He moved the glass along Nino’s cheek again, dragging the moisture up past his temple. “Stop it. Give me a drink already.”
It weirded him out something awful when Jun stuck his finger in the water glass, dribbling a few drops along Nino’s lips. But he was so damn thirsty that he ran his tongue along his mouth quickly before his chapped lips absorbed it all. “Like seeing me like this, huh? Poetic justice or something, Matsumoto?”
“Weren’t supposed to give him nothing.”
Sho’s voice was somewhere near the foot of the table, at Nino’s legs that he couldn’t feel any more. He tried to move his head a little, but he hadn’t even heard the sheriff enter. “Get out, Sakurai. You got me shot.”
Jun was flicking drops of water on Nino’s face, torturously slow, and most of them weren’t anywhere close to his lips. He’d been mean to the sheriff and the gunman, but he was shot. Didn’t that count for nothing? “Doc said he could have water,” Jun said, his voice laced with some kind of black humor Nino wasn’t finding too amusing.
“Well? How about it?” he complained, still trying to move. Jun merely set down the glass on some other table in the room, if the sound of something scraping on wood was any indication. “Hey. I took a bullet here, don’t be inhuman now.”
He felt Jun’s rough palm pat his cheek like he was some child. “Talk too much.”
“And I’ll holler too if you don’t give me a drink.” It was weird. How long had they been here? How long had the Doc been fixing him? The candle light in the room was making everything hazy, as if everything had a glowing halo around it. Granted, all he had to look at was the hanging lights on the ceiling, only half of which were lit.
The numbness he’d felt throughout his body seconds earlier disappeared in a flash as he suddenly felt Sakurai’s hand on his thigh. Sensation shot down to his toes as the man’s hand ran along his trousers, treading dangerously close to places that weren’t his to claim. “What...what are you...”
His eyes were going to pop out of his skull as cracked, but full lips pressed against his own. He wanted to bite, to scream at Matsumoto for it, but the hot hand on his leg and the mouth brushing against his were sending his already addled mind reeling. What the hell were they doing? Was this some revenge they’d plotted? He couldn’t see the sheriff fighting this dirty, not in a hundred lifetimes.
And in the same flash of time that had suddenly brought Sho to the foot of the table, the sheriff’s fingers were at his belt buckle. He was hard - when had the dull throb in his nethers gone to a full blown need? “This ain’t funny,” he managed to mumble before Jun had his face roughly between his hands, forcing the breath from him with a demanding kiss. The gunslinger’s fingers moved lower, gripping his neck, squeezing enough to leave Nino gasping. But as soon as he was choking, Jun’s fingers disappeared.
It was all happening in a blur. Wasn’t the doc right in the other room? Maybe he really had died, because this couldn’t be real. Jun’s fingers were running along the bandaging, and where it should have hurt, the feather light touches were instead sending waves of pleasure through him. Damn them. Jun’s breath was hot above the bandaging, finding flesh that wasn’t covered and darting his tongue across it.
“Jun, wait,” he said, desperate for the gunman as much as he was for water. Where had all this come bubbling from? Had Mendoza’s man shot the sense as well as the blood out of him? But his attention went back between his legs where Sakurai had his belt and his trousers undone and was teasing him, bringing his soft fingers along Nino’s length. The hell was happening here?
“You like when we fight back, don’t you?” Jun’s voice came beside his ear at the same time the sheriff took him in his mouth. Nino couldn’t stifle a cry at the sensation. But he didn’t get a chance to catch his breath as Jun forced his tongue between Nino’s lips, demanding and simply taking what he wanted.
The sheriff that Nino knew wasn’t the type to know what he was doing between another man’s legs, was he? But he was taking Nino’s cock into his mouth in a feverish rhythm, seemingly deeper each time. He desperately pulled his mouth away from Jun’s, body feeling a different kind of pain than a bullet wound should have been giving him. “Water, give me the damn water.”
Sho was humming now, as if he was in Pastor White’s church singing Amazing Grace with the whole congregation, and the added sensation up and down his length brought Nino over the edge. He came hard with Jun running his fingers along his lips. “Stop, oh god, you’ve gotta stop,” he breathed as Sho’s mouth vanished from between his legs.
Jun was gone suddenly, and Sho was at his side. How had they moved so fast? Sho had that damn star of his in his hand, and Nino felt it tap along his jaw line. The gleaming metal was cool, while the sheriff’s breath was burning hot at his earlobe. Nino’s toes curled in his boots as Sho’s laughter rang in his mind. “Jun, you ain’t getting him water, are you?”
Nino saw Jun’s hand come down, the fingers curling in Sho’s hair. “Man took a bullet for me. Water’s a thanks, isn’t it?” The glass was back by his lips, the precious liquid dribbling down his chin as Jun tipped it forward.
“Man’s an invalid,” Sho said, but his voice was so low Nino could barely make it out. “That left hand’s just a decoration now.”
“Fuck off.”
Matsumoto laughed. “He still has a right hand.” Nino felt Jun move alongside the table, picking up Nino’s hand in his own. “Gonna need to get him used to usin’ it.” Nino gasped as Jun pressed their clasped hands against the front of his trousers. Jun was hard, and in another one of those crazy flashes, the trousers were open, and Nino’s hand was moving up and down Jun’s length.
“How did-”
“Sssh,” the sheriff whispered, pulling his face close and kissing him with far more aggression than Nino was accustomed. Sho bit and sucked alternately at Nino’s bottom lip, pleasure and pain mingling as he listened to Jun’s frenzied breaths. He ached again, the need between his legs returning. Had it been minutes or hours since they’d started? He was fading in and out, his senses overloading.
Jun was so hard in his grasp, and Sho was tugging at his bandaging. “Don’t,” he begged. “Don’t. Got shot there, don’t undo...”
Sho obeyed, but all too well, disappearing from Nino’s side, and he managed to crane his neck enough to find that the sheriff was now behind Jun, tipping the man’s head back and devouring the other man’s mouth. Jun groaned, and Nino increased his pace of his own volition as Sho ran his hands up and down Jun’s arms.
He felt Jun come, his satisfied moans muffled by Sho’s mouth. Nino’s stomach was sticky and wet, and he just wanted one of them to pay attention to him once more. “I need...need...I...”
The pleasurable feelings seemed to vanish, and his head ached. Jun and Sho broke apart, staring at him. But it was like he was falling, through the table and down down down. The other two were so far now. He was numbing up again. No, he was finally feeling good. After so long, so many years without her...
And then she was there, standing alone at his bedside. Jun and Sho were gone.
Her touch was feather light along his chin, her pinky finger tip giving the birthmark on his chin a poke the way she always had. “Kazu, I’m sorry.” She was a blur of curls and floral perfume oil. “I’m so sorry.”
Her name was on his lips as he opened his eyes, feeling fresh pain ricocheting up and down his left side. Fuck. The lights weren’t blurred. No, everything had a perfect clarity. This was the real world now, wasn’t it? He blinked back hot tears in his eyes at the pain, physical and in his mind. He looked to the side and wanted to pinch himself.
Jun was in a chair at his side, asleep. Well, he told himself, at least he wasn’t holding a water glass. The sheriff was nowhere in sight, and all the better. The dream was already fading in his mind, although there were some bits that weren’t going to leave him any time soon.
He could have announced that he was awake. He could have made any kind of complaining remark. He could have spat at Jun’s face. But he couldn’t. Nino simply kept his eyes open, whole body aching all too realistically, watching Jun keep his vigil.
The business intertwining and twisting the three of them together - the knots were getting tighter, and soon enough they were gonna snap.
-------
Sho hadn't said a word since they'd left Cooks Peak. And Nino, horseless, was riding along in Jun's saddle again with wrappings all over his arm and shoulder, which just added extra weight Jun wasn't used to cantering with and threw off his usual sense of balance. It was going to take longer, in any case, to get back to Rapid Springs than it had taken to leave her, and with the odd tension in the air, the atmosphere Jun couldn't read, the hours seemed infinitely stretched.
The sun was hot even under the brim of Jun's hat, and he wiped the sweat away from his forehead with the back of one hand, clicking at the mare a bit. It was useless to try and increase her pace- Ninomiya's weight was added strain, and if she threw a shoe or sprained an ankle, they were all but stranded in the middle of the desert.
The mare sped a little, into an odd, short, loping trot, and then slowed down again, but not before Jun heard Nino's hissing intake of breath. The uneven gait was jostling his injured arm.
"Sorry," Jun mumbled.
"Can't you keep this damn thing steady?" the barkeep shot back, but it lacked his usual bite; there was still that unreadable underlying emotion there that was keeping him from reaching his usual malice. Maybe it was gratitude for coming after him- Jun didn't know.
Jun let the reins slide a bit through his fingers. "I- should thank you."
Nino was silent for so long Jun thought perhaps the other man hadn't heard him, but then he shifted in the saddle, hands gripping the horn very near to Jun's hands on the leather strips.
"Guess you should," he replied. His voice was low- Jun was close enough to the man's head to hear him, but Sho, riding a few feet away, wouldn't be able to pick up a thing. There was a pang in Jun's chest, a tightening, but he couldn't focus on the sheriff's insecurity while trying to pay attention to everything else. There was an ex-confederate mad-man on their tails, and Nagase seemed to be one step ahead of them the whole damn time. There had been enough killin' and carnage because of Jun already; he wasn't fixin' to have there be any more.
They rode a bit longer in silence, dust kicking up behind the mare's hooves.
"Why did you do it?" Jun asked.
Nino shifted again, and this time one of his hands crept up to finger the bandages under the thread of his shirt. "Gotta kill you myself, right?"
Jun didn't answer, but his muscles coiled unconsciously.
"Figure I still owe you that," Nino continued. "Wouldn't be fair of me to let some toothless Mexican dog take my kill, would it?"
"Mm," Jun replied.
"This doesn't mean nothing," the other man said, and there was finally some heat to his tone. "You hear me? Doesn't mean nothing."
There was a hiss from the sands to his right- rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike. Had to have been lying in the shade of one of the larger rocks. Jun's mare half-bucked in surprise and kicked out- almost hit the snake, and it backed off, but she was spooked. She took off across the sands and Jun instinctively threw an arm around Nino's waist to keep him on. The other man didn't have the stirrups for support like Jun did, didn't have the saddle conformed to fit his legs, and even though he had them, Jun was having a hard time keeping his balance on the bolting horse. He got her under control a few moments later, but the damage was done.
"Don't," Nino gasped, and his fingers were tugging at Jun's arm to loosen it.
"Sorry," Jun replied, cross. He clicked his tongue at his horse a few times, murmuring to her, and behind them, Sho was catching up, checking back in the dust for the offending reptile.
"Just don't," the saloon owner repeated, voice sounding a bit strangled.
"The hell is wrong with you?" Jun asked. "That bullet tear up more than just your shoulder or somethin'? Christ."
"You okay?" came Sho's call, as he pulled up beside them with a flick of the reins. "Fourth rattler I've seen out here today. We gotta be careful, or they'll get a clear shot at one of the horses."
Nino's fingers were digging into Jun's skin as he tried desperately to remove Jun's hold around his middle. The man was almost drawing blood, and it stung. "Let go."
Jun did, wincing at the crescent-moon shaped indentations that graced his forearm.
"Try to stick clear of the shadows," he told Sho, over his shoulder. "Rattlers keep to 'em this time of day. We're halfway there by now."
"Just passed the north bluff," the sheriff said. He pointed off behind them with one finger, but the action seemed half-hearted. Between his moroseness and Ninomiya's bizarre mood swings, Jun half-wished he'd just spot Nagase on the horizon with a muzzle aimed at his chest. Get the whole damn thing over with. He couldn't even pretend to figure out what knots were winding up 'round them all, and it was giving him a headache.
Jun could feel Nino's hitching breathing against his chest.
"The hell?" he mumbled, mostly to himself, and didn't really care if the other man heard him. He had half a mind to rail at the two of them, but it wouldn't help much- would probably just make everything worse. He was itchin' to just drop them in Rapid Springs and go, clear his head for a few days alone in the sand, but that probably wouldn't help, either. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he was so damn sick of the unreadable tension he could just quit the whole thing.
He yanked the reins harder than was necessary, turning to face the sheriff again.
"When we get there, you go talk to Aiba," he said, and it was far more demand than suggestion. "You do what you need to do, report all good-boy like, and then, you come find me."
"Could you please plan your rendezvous while I am not within hearing distance?" Ninomiya complained, but his tone still seemed a bit hoarse, and Jun wanted to smack him. Sho was just staring at him with wide eyes.
"You hear me, sheriff?" Jun asked. It came out harsher than he'd meant for it to, and when he finally deciphered the hooded look in the other man's gaze- well, he felt a little bad. Been awhile since he'd lost so much of himself, hadn't it? Hadn't he been the same way once? Seemed like ages ago, but it was there. He knew the feeling. His anger deflated a bit. "You hear me?"
"Yeah," Sho mumbled, and broke the shared gaze to stare down at his hands.
"Lovers quarrel?" Nino asked.
"Shut up," Jun spat. "You got a free pass cause of that bullet wound in your arm, but I ain't gonna let you use that forever. Enjoy it while you can."
Nino was silent for a long moment, and the gait of both horses evened out.
"Think I will, Matsumoto," he finally replied, but it was very quiet, and Jun couldn't be sure that he heard him.
-----
Someone saw them coming- who, Sho didn't know, but by the time they reached the main drag of Rapid Springs once more the sun was quickly setting and there was a crowd gathered 'round. A murmur rose when Jun and Nino slowed to a stop- had to be somethin', really, to see the saloon owner looking pale and weak and sharing a damn saddle with the man. But Sho couldn't think about that, couldn't let his thoughts linger- too long they'd already done so, and he was nearly overcome with guilt already.
His hands were trembling even as he dismounted, heels smacking into the dirt.
"All three alive?" a mutter asked near his ear.
"More or less," Sho replied, tangling the reins 'round the post. "Some more than others."
Jun was helping Nino down from the saddle, and the barkeep looked a bit shaky on his own two feet. It gave Sho a sick sense of satisfaction, and that just made him feel worse; he shouldn't be takin' pleasure in the man's pain. Ninomiya saved Jun's life, and Sho- well, Sho owed him for that, didn't he?
Another pang through his midsection, and he swallowed down bile.
"You get 'em, sheriff?" came the next question, loud and echoing and hitting him like a deluge. "You get 'em?"
"Yeah," Sho answered. He wished his tone sounded far more confident than it did. He patted his horse's rump affectionately, unhooking the cinch from the saddle. She'd been running hard without rest, and he didn't want to create sores on her back from the leather. The tack was heavy when he lifted it free, and she shook her head, mane flapping. "Yeah, we got 'em."
The din that rose then was appreciative, like a collective sigh of relief. Sho didn't doubt it- they'd all been living in the fear of Mendoza's shadow. From the corner of his vision, he could see Jun helping Nino up onto the stoop in front of the saloon. Sho sucked in a deep breath, trying to push everything away. The images of the men he'd killed hovered just beyond the faces of Rapid Springs, like the dead waiting for him to join.
He turned from the saloon, from his own doubts and gnawing insecurities.
"You know where I could find Aiba?" he asked the man nearest to him, Williams. He got a nod towards the blacksmith's shop in response.
His boots were dragging by the time he reached the forge, and he could still hear the rhythmic clinking of Aiba's hammer even in the late hour; figured, really, that the deputy was the kind of man to work to dispel troubled thoughts. Sho wondered if he was worried. Aiba'd been a kind soul, and he'd be sad when Sho was gone- right?
Sho's toes stopped just past the bound of the shop, level with the wood beam he needed to step over.
"Aiba?" he called. For some reason, he was unwilling to cross the boundary. It felt like- felt wrong, was what it felt like. His hands were stained and his conscience was black, and he had no right traipsing 'round Rapid Springs like he owned her. He never had, and it was becoming abundantly clear just how much control he lacked. For all his good thoughts and deeds, he was nothing compared to the town. Town threw him aside without a second thought, and would continue livin' on even as the sun desiccated his body.
The hammer within the building stilled. "Sheriff?"
There were heavy footsteps, and then a smile full of teeth as Aiba moved to stand in front of him.
"Aye," Sho replied, heart heavy in his chest. "Back now, deputy."
"And in one piece," Aiba said. He sounded happy. He sounded relieved, and it only twisted the knots further. Sho stared down at his boots to try and dislodge the lump in his throat. "Mendoza?"
"Gone," Sho said, shaky. "Got him. Ninomiya- took a bullet in the shoulder, but he got him."
Aiba's face fell a little. "Nino- he got shot? Is he okay?"
Sho felt infinitely weary, like he could sleep for a lifetime and still be exhausted upon waking. It wasn't pleasant; it was almost tangible weight on his shoulders.
"He'll be fine," he answered. "He'll- be fine."
"What about you?" Aiba asked; he never gave the man enough credit. He was shrewd sometimes, when it counted- when Sho didn't want him to be.
"Fine, too," he lied. In the past few days, the lie off his tongue was the least of his sins.
He turned to leave, because he couldn't handle seeing Aiba's face quirk back up into a relieved smile again. He just wanted to be alone- he wanted to be alone and surrounded at the same time, unable to find just one to cling to. All he wished was for a night of sleep where the world fell away and he was back in Boston without the true nature of the whole damn West lodged in his thoughts. Just one night when he didn't have to deal with it- that was it. One night.
"Sheriff?" the blacksmith asked, as Sho started to move away from the forge.
"Tomorrow," Sho said. "We'll just get everythin' worked out tomorrow."
Maybe Aiba heard whatever it was that was hanging in his tone- Sho didn't know. Didn't rightly care, neither, cause as long as he was left by himself there was that much less he could taint. As he drug his heels through the center drag, he thought how much better Rapid Springs would have been without his bumbling hand muckin' it all up. Been better off without his influence throwin' the whole damn town to the wolves.
He was supposed to find Jun, but the other man was probably still in the saloon taking care of Nino, and Sho didn't want to go there. Didn't want to find Jun, didn't want to have a discussion. He bypassed his station and stumbled down to the dried-out creek bed with the twisted tree, getting to the sharply dropping ridge before his legs gave out completely. He hit the dirt with force that sent pangs through his form and just stayed there, staring out at the wasteland beyond the town borders.
He should leave. He knew he should leave, 'fore anything else got fucked up. He should just go and head out into the desert and let the West do to him what it wanted. If the sun didn't kill him, the coyotes would.
There were footsteps behind him, after some amount of time had passed and the sky was nearly black.
"Sheriff." Jun sounded annoyed- angry. When Sho failed to respond, the footsteps got a bit closer, thudding against packed dirt. "If you're trying to hide from me, you're doing a piss-poor job of it."
Sho wanted to throw his hands over his ears so he didn't have to hear Jun's voice anymore. All it did was elicit more tightening in his chest, more desire in his blood. Maybe he'd kill Jun the same way he killed those men, without mercy. Without pride. He squeezed his eyes shut instead, trying to block out the world.
"Sheriff?" Jun tried again. And then his voice dropped its ire, getting softer. "Sho?"
When he didn't hear anything for awhile, Sho thought maybe the other man had left. Then there was a scuffle behind him, and two arms slipping around his shoulders, hot breath at his ear. Jun's hold was warm and solid and Sho melted into it with a little gasp of breath as everything flew out of his lungs all at once.
"Don't even think about it," Jun whispered. "Don't you dare even think about it."
There were hot trails on his cheeks that he didn't remember crying. "Why not?"
"I told you this means somethin'," was the reply, Jun's breath playing with bits of Sho's hair near his ear. "So don't you dare do that to me. Don't even think it."
The other man's arms tightened to an almost painful level, like he was convinced Sho was going to dash off right then and was fixin' to hold him back by sheer willpower. And Sho didn't mind it, cause the pain was something he could fix his thoughts on, something to focus everything in. It almost felt like something was shattering, bits of glass embedding themselves in his palms.
"Oh, God," Sho gasped. There was a sob lodged in his throat.
"Gonna get better," Jun sighed, chin resting on Sho's shoulder.
"How do you know?" Sho asked, because he couldn't quite believe- couldn't quite let himself.
"Cause you're here," Jun said simply. "You're here, and I'm here."
Sho raised his hand to tangle with Jun's, and the gunslinger kissed his head, his temple, sighing again into Sho's hair. And bit by bit, inch by inch, it felt like maybe the overwhelming desire to throw himself to the vultures was lessening.
Chapter: 9/13
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Sho/Jun
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations, violence.
Summary: A saloon owner with an enigmatic past, an idealistic sheriff, a remorseful shotgun messenger, and the town that unites them.
It had been meant for him. That shot had been meant for him, and yet there was Nino, lying in the dirt, his life slowly leaking out. Where had he been hit? There was no time.
“Sho! Hurry up!”
Jun hurriedly reloaded his revolvers, shots whizzing past his ears, and he finally heard the shotgun blast he’d been waiting for. Too bad it had taken Ninomiya getting shot for the sheriff to join the firefight. Sho was firing at close quarters, and his aim was good enough to send a bunch of the staggering, sleepy gunmen flying.
He quickly joined in, sending more targeted shots off to the few still coming from the tents. “Cover me!” he screamed, trusting that Sho would just keep firing now that he’d started. There were half a dozen bodies now between him and Ninomiya. He crawled over the corpses to Nino, who was moaning low in his throat and clutching at his shoulder. Well, now he and the saloon owner would have a matching set of scars.
“Mendoza,” Nino was mumbling, going in and out of consciousness. There was no way they could retreat, not without finishing what they’d started. Jun tore at his shirt, ripping the fabric in haste. He balled it up and stuck it between Nino’s blood-soaked hand and the wound.
“Pressure. Keep pressure on it. We’re going to finish this.”
Ninomiya could only groan in pain as a response. One of the men around him who hadn’t died yet was tugging on Jun’s ankle. It was a waste of a round that belonged between Mendoza’s eyes, but he wasn’t entirely merciless. He pulled the trigger, ending the man’s suffering and hurried to his feet.
Sho was still holding off the remaining few outside, but they had to go for the big boss. As Sho reloaded his own weapon, Jun ran off, praying there’d be some lanterns inside the cave to guide him. Thankfully, there were a few. He dodged barrels of loot, squeezing around corners in his search.
“Wait,” he heard from behind him. It was the sheriff. “Don’t let me lose sight of you! Jun, wait!”
But there was no time to wait. A man was bleeding out. A man who’d wanted him dead for years, but he’d still saved his life. He owed it to Ninomiya to finish the job. One drunken gunman came around the corner, screaming for Mendoza. Jun fired before the man could finish saying his boss’ name, and he stepped over the body, not stopping.
The cave floor kept going down, and the temperature cooled as Jun descended further inside. Two men, three…then four went down. Mendoza was running out of inebriated fools for him to kill. The cave curved around, and he stopped to take a breath. Couldn’t be much more left.
Hurried steps behind him. Sho had finally caught up. He checked the chambers. He had three rounds in the left, two in the right. Would it be enough? He didn’t care, steeling himself to face the big man himself. This was for Ninomiya.
--
He’d managed to knock over a barrel of gunpowder on his way after Jun. It was clinging to the blood on his pant legs, and he was probably leaving a trail after him. Hopefully nobody from outside had followed them in, intent to corner them. Didn’t Jun ever think about things like that?
His mind was muddled, and all he could see were the terrified eyes of the men he’d just killed. Begging him to show mercy. And then he’d been useless, unable to help Jun, so Ninomiya had taken the bullet instead. Jun was never going to forgive him for not doing his part, and now one of them was outside, lying in a pool of his own blood. It was all his fault.
Jun was just getting ready to turn around the last corner. Mendoza had to be there. Sho said nothing. He knew Jun could hear him coming. As soon as he was there, Jun took off from his hiding spot, and Sho heard Mendoza curse in Spanish. He hurried after Jun, who’d only sent off one shot thus far.
He followed Jun around the corner, seeing Mendoza alone on the other side scrambling with some strong boxes. Was he stupid enough to try and escape with his money and stolen jewels? Sho ducked back behind the corner as Mendoza fired off an errant shot with a revolver of his own. No, he couldn’t hide. He’d hesitated enough and Nino was going to die if he didn’t help Jun now.
Jun fired another shot, and just as Sho rounded the corner, another of Mendoza’s shots hit the cave wall just inches from his head. A close call, and one he couldn’t allow the gang leader to have again. He gave chase, only now realizing that Mendoza had disappeared. He watched Jun disappear behind some Indian woven blanket hung on the wall. So the boss had an escape route and hadn’t bothered to inform any of his now dead companions? Some leader.
“Jun, wait!”
He heard Jun’s revolver go off a third time, and he ran past the strong boxes, yanking the blanket down and finding a narrow passage cut into the cave wall. An alternate way out…but where would it lead? He heard Mendoza’s screaming echoing off the walls. Begging them to let him go, and then Jun was firing again in the darkened corridor.
“He said to light the fire!” Mendoza was shouting as they chased him. “He paid in full! He said destroy the town! I didn’t want no part of you any more!”
Who? Who had paid off Mendoza? “You’re lying!” Jun cried. “You’re not getting away this time!”
“I swear! I ain’t going to Rapid Springs, oh Dios, please!”
Sho could tell the path was on an incline. They were heading back up to the surface. “Jun, stop! He has information we need. Jun!”
The sound was almost deafening as Jun sent off another shot. This one hit, but Mendoza was still running. “He said light it! It wasn’t me, it’s him you want!”
“Who?” Sho demanded. Mendoza made it to the end of the cave and turned suddenly, revolver raised in his shaking fist. Was Jun going to fire?
“It was Nagase!” Mendoza declared, and Sho saw his finger on the trigger. He dove forward without thinking, pulling Jun down as Mendoza’s desperate shot ricocheted off the cave wall.
“I’m out,” Jun muttered. “I’m out! Get him!”
--
There’d been groans all around him, and whatever cloth Jun had given him was already sticky and damp in his hand. He wanted to sleep and forget all of this, forget the way his body was aching. The pain was sharp on his left side, near his shoulder. He didn’t want to move, but he had to. He couldn’t let Jun and his little sweetie take all the credit for bringing Mendoza’s gang down.
He turned onto his right side, a fresh burst of pain shooting down the other half of his body, and he cried out. “Son of a bitch!” Now that he didn’t have the cloth clamped down, his wound was going to bleed like a stuck pig. There might still be guys in the cave, coming out, going in. He had to get them.
It was stupid to have thrown his gun away, but Nino hadn’t been able to control himself as he knocked Jun out of the way. He was paying for it now, but it was the story of his life wasn’t it? There were bodies all around him, dead or dying, and he wasn’t planning to be one of them. Not yet. Feeling a hot bullet pass through his flesh made him realize that he wasn’t as suicidal as he’d originally planned.
One of the bodies to his left had a revolver still holstered. The bastard had been so confused and surprised by their attack that he hadn’t had a chance to take it out. He could only move so fast, crawling on his belly, feeling the life draining drop by drop. Focusing was getting more and more difficult. His body wanted to quit, to make him fall unconscious to deal with the pain. But Nino was used to pain, wasn’t he?
Lifting his left hand, his usual hand, for the man’s holster was a mistake and he knew it. It was like hot fire racing through his veins. Idiot, he cursed himself. You stupid idiot. He grabbed for the gun with his right hand, wheezing and ready to black out.
They’d tried to make him write with his right hand in school, back when he’d actually gone to school. He’d get a slap each time he tried to raise his chalk with his left hand. The thought propelled him forward, fingers closing around the gun and removing it from the dead man’s holster.
There was shouting and swearing from inside the cave, getting closer. He knew that voice. The pain throbbed, but his mind took over. His vision was blurring as he rolled onto his back, hissing as he tried to lean to look up. He held out the revolver, the weight of it in his right hand unfamiliar and strange.
“It was Nagase!” He heard a shot fire back into the cave, and he aimed at the back of the man who’d shouted. It was Mendoza. The man turned around, gun still smoking, and he ran. But he hadn’t counted on one of the bodies on the ground firing at him.
The trigger felt strange under his finger, but it was now or never. He wasn’t used to this arm, and the force of it flattened him. He let go of the revolver, hearing the other man groan between him and the cave. Nino took a deep breath, blinking at the stars above him.
He saw Sho’s panicked face, sharp jabs of pain as the man tried to stop his wound from bleeding. “Nino! Nino, stay with me.”
“Mendoza…is he?”
“He’s dead. You got him.”
He smiled, feeling his eyes fluttering a bit. “Good.” And then he knew nothing at all.
------
Jun stared down at Mendoza's crumpled, still warm form and kicked at him a bit with the toe of his boot, just to make sure. Dead alright; blood foam was still bubbling on his lips. He reached down and grabbed the revolver from the dead man's fingers. There were still some rounds left, and he was out- last thing he wanted was more trouble, after they'd done what they set out for. But there was a coiling in his stomach, low and hard and hot. Mendoza hadn't been the one behind the fire, he'd been paid.
Dammit. Jun had known it, known it all along that Nagase wouldn't let him go. Hadn't even been his fault the cattle spooked and man, but he was a dead man. He'd stayed 'round Rapid Springs and been the last fiber in the town's noose. The guilt felt worse when it compounded with all the rest he carried around on his shoulders, and he gave Mendoza's side another mean-spirited kick just because he could. Dammit.
"Jun!" came the cry from outside the cave, strangled and warbling. "Jun!"
Shit, Ninomiya. And Sho was out there with his hands pressed against the saloon owner's shoulder like his own fingers could stop the flow of life. Jun ran out to where the two were, Sho leaning over Nino's still form. Too-still. Too, too still, and the revolver he'd used to hit Mendoza square in the chest was lying in the sand next to his stained hand.
"Let me see," Jun said, pushing past Sho rougher than he needed to. His hands were moving without volition- the man had taken a bullet for him, least Jun could do was make sure he came out okay. But Nino's breathing was shallow, and his shirt was soaked through.
Next to him, Sho shifted on his knees in the granules. "He gonna make it?"
"Not here," Jun said, tearing more off the bottom of his shirt. In strips, he could wind it around Nino's upper arm and try to keep the life inside; the man's blood was hot and red even under the moon. Around him there were men groaning, slowly dying out on the sands, but he couldn't spare them a glance. There was one body he wasn't gonna let grow cold, and he'd be damned if he left Ninomiya there to join the gang boys.
He jerked the man upright, and was rewarded with a groan of pain- it was good. It was a reaction, at least, and that much was a good sign.
"What now?" Sho was asking, scurrying to his feet. There was something haunted in his eyes that reflected in the starlight, but Jun didn't have time to him- sheriff didn't seem to be hurt that he could see, so he fell away from Jun's peripheral vision. Had to focus; had to get Nino someplace they could find help. Rapid Springs was way too far a ride, and the man would be dead before the following nightfall.
"Cooks Peak is north of here," Jun answered, half-dragging, half-carrying Nino towards the Express station where the horses were hitched. The saloon owner's boots drug in the sand, making lines that trailed behind them like tracks of blood. "We go north and get him to the doc there. Ain't got time to go anywhere else now."
Nino was heavy, but maybe it was just that Jun's shoulders were screaming already. Been a long time since he rode with an injured man on the saddle with him.
"But he's gonna be alright?"
Sho was scared, and it was obvious, but Jun just didn't have time for it. "I dunno."
"You dunno?" Sakurai got in his face just 'fore they reached the post, eyes wide, and Jun brushed him aside with his shoulder, propping Nino up against the wall as best he could. The barkeep's cheek hit the wood and he groaned again, eyelids fluttering. They didn't open all the way, but he mumbled something into the grains, and then fell silent once more, shoulders slumping. Jun grabbed for the reins and spun them back around the post, freeing his mare.
"I'm not a fortune teller," he snapped, feeling guilty even as the words left his mouth. "But I ain't gonna let him die if I can do anything about it."
Ninomiya was getting heavier, but Sho seemed to finally get the hint and helped Jun get him up into the saddle. He swayed and slumped, but at least stayed upright. Jun dug his heel in the stirrup and swung his own weight over, arms going 'round Nino's limp form. Felt like he was holding a rag doll, loose and lifeless in his arms. It wasn't a particularly pleasant thought.
The leather straps were smooth against his hands.
"North," he said again. "Just follow me and don't stop for nothing."
When his spurs dug in, his mare took off into a canter across the dunes. They had hours before sunrise still, but if they could get to Cooks Peak before the orange orb peeked over the ridges on the horizon, Ninomiya stood a chance. Jun's arm tightened unconsciously around the man's form; Nino was mumbling again, murmuring something low that was too garbled from pain to decipher.
"Stupid bastard," Jun hissed, kicking his heels again. "Stay alive, you stupid bastard."
They didn't see anything else on the ride towards Cooks Peak. No horses, no cavalry, not even snakes sliding through the sands in the coolness of night. The pounding of their mounts' hooves against the dunes were the only sounds against their ears, and it was at least enough to help Jun block out thoughts of Nagase's stolen pistol and blood-stained jacket. He didn't want to think 'bout the ex-confederate; he knew what Nagase was capable of. He knew, and Rapid Springs had been just another example of it, and it was his fault, the whole lot of it.
Now Ninomiya's blood was wet against Jun's arm, and that was Jun's fault, too.
Cooks Peak broke out on the horizon just as the sky started to streak with pink. It spurned Jun onward, making his breath catch in his throat. His mare was slick with sweat and panting against the bit, but she ran like the wind was on her heels until they skidded onto the dusty main drag of town between the buildings settled on the hills.
"Where?" Sho gasped, when his horse pulled up beside them, stamping. "Where now?"
"Find the doc," Jun ground out through clenched teeth. His left arm supporting Nino's dead weight had gone numb, sending sharp shocks through his shoulder. Sho dropped from the saddle and did as he was told with a quickness to his step that Jun was thankful for. He didn't care how many doors the sheriff had to bang on; he had a badge, and that would give them enough standing to merit immediate attention. Cooks Peak wasn't a place for the meek- but they didn't have much choice, and if they were lucky, that shiny star on Sakurai's lapel would get them what they needed.
He tried shaking Nino awake, but got only a sigh and another moan of hazy pain. He had to keep the man from bleeding out, and the threads wrapped around his injury were red.
There were footsteps to his right, and Sho came back, breathless.
"Got a doc," he said. "Back near the saloon, he's got a shack there."
Like the rest of the mining hopefuls, then, but it was better than nothing. Jun clicked his tongue and urged his horse forward towards the direction Sho had pointed. He would have found the doc's place even without the man himself waving at him from the doorway. Dismounting, he grabbed for Nino's body 'fore it could fall straight off the saddle into the dirt.
"Bullet?" the doc asked.
"In the shoulder," Jun answered, hauling Nino towards the open doorway. "Don't think it's too bad but we had to ride here. He's lost blood."
The doctor put a hand to the barkeep's forehead, frowning. "Hot. Get him inside."
Behind him, Sho tied both horses to the post with quick, even knots. When he was done, he slid his arm around Nino's other side to help get the injured man inside the shack. The doc's place was dingy, dark, and- well, a far cry more optimistic than the damn desert would have been. Ninomiya had better chances under the scalpel than under the midday sun.
The doctor had them lay Nino's form on the table, and Jun felt oddly helpless letting go and stepping back.
"Doc," he said, stumbling over the words. When the man turned to look at him, he couldn't think of anything he wanted to say. "Just- just save him."
"I'll do what I can," the doctor replied.
And then all they could do was watch and pray.
-----
The exhaustion crept up all at once and pounced with alarming accuracy; all of a sudden, it felt like a struggle just to pull air into his lungs. It wasn't hot yet but it felt like every part of him was on fire, and they were just sitting outside a run-down shack in a town that hadn't seen a better day yet, full of criminals and miscreants and God only knew what else. They were on the edge of civilization, on the very edge of the map where everything collided and blurred together, and Sho couldn't find his damn footing in the sand.
He didn't even know where his blade had gone. Jesus, he didn't want to know where he'd dropped it; the damned thing was stained with blood that no scrubbing was ever gonna get clean. His hands were the same way, and he could still see flecks of dried crimson on the rough ridges of his knuckles, hardened by the air and sand. He'd drawn a knife across sleeping men's throats and left them gasping for air and finding only death, a slow suffocation as they bled out onto their own sleeping mats.
Jun was a hand span away from him and the gunslinger didn't say a word. Didn't say a single thing, just sat with his lip between his teeth and his gaze far past the buildings at the bottom of the granite. No offered hand, no advice; just silence and thoughts that were obviously still locked within the doctor's shack behind them.
There was anger bubbling in Sho's chest. Anger that he'd allowed himself to fall so far from the code of law, of ethics, of morality- Boston felt like a lifetime away, back in a world where there was civility and decency. He was angry that he'd strayed, angry that the blood on his hands was real, and angry that the man sitting next to him didn't say a damn thing about it. He needed something whispered in his ear, that things would get better, and it was silent.
There was only the wind whistling past his senses, breeze cool in the sunrise.
Sho rubbed his hands together, rough pads of his thumbs grazing across hardened skin. He thought he should say something- shouldn't he? Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Jun, but the other man hadn't even moved save for the shallow hitching of his breath.
Out beyond their boots, the town was stirring a bit. Men woke hoping that that day would be their lucky one, their break, their ticket out; Sho hadn't the heart to tell them that it ain't never coming. They'd spend their whole lives toiling for some unobtainable dream, and maybe if they were lucky, they'd end up with the torn throat he could offer them. Seemed to be all he could give at the moment- a swift cut and the gurgle of death.
Jun's fingers were tapping out a nervous rhythm against his knee. Sho let his head fall into his hands- why did it suddenly feel like there was a whole desert between them?
Even when Sho moved, the man next to him didn't glance over; the beating of his fingertips increased in speed a bit, popping against his kneecap. The silence hanging between them was almost as unbearable as the screaming in Sho's thoughts, the images of the men's dying faces that hung before his mind's eyes and refused to dissipate.
Sho opened his mouth, and then closed it. When his brain had finally come up with something decent to say, he tried opening his jaw again, only to have the door to the doc's place swing open. Doctor himself stepped out, shirt covered in splotches of red.
"He's sleepin'," he announced, before either of them could ask.
Jun rose with an exhale of breath so audible Sho picked it up from his still seated position.
"Thanks," the gunslinger said. "Thanks, Doc."
He stepped inside the building without a glance backwards, and when his footsteps faded, Sho just sighed into his palms, wishing he could disappear. Wishing things were different, better- uncomplicated. Simple, like they used to be back home, even if he felt stifled in the crowded, tree-lined roads.
He didn't think he could ever go back there, not with the blood on his hands. Not anymore.
------
If only he could have slept longer. As he stirred, the butcher this town called a doctor was hovering over him, eyeing Nino through his dusty lenses. “Seen worse, boy.” He twisted the stray hairs of his mustache and dared to laugh. He had Doc Ogura’s bedside manner. Or maybe all doctors out here had a similar attitude. “Nothin’ but a spider bite.”
Well, it sure hadn’t felt like a spider bite when the bullet hit him. Unless the spider was fifty feet tall. He blinked, looking down at his body. He’d been stripped to the waist, although most of his upper half was covered in some bandaging. His whole left side felt stiff, as if the doctor had shot him up full of something to numb him. But maybe his nerves on that side were just dead. It wouldn’t surprise him.
“Thirsty,” he croaked, and his throat felt as dry as the sandy dunes back at Mendoza’s camp. Mendoza was dead. It was over now, wasn’t it?
The doc laughed again. “I bet you are. Lost a good deal of blood. I’ll get your friends. I need to sleep.”
He was alone then, sprawled across the table and helpless. Maybe the doc was fucking with him. Maybe Sho and Jun had just left him behind. But before he realized it, Matsumoto was standing behind him, holding a cool glass of water beside his cheek, close enough that Nino groaned at the droplet that fell from the glass and onto his skin.
“How did you get here so fast?”
Jun only laughed, the same strange tone like the doctor. What the hell was going on? He couldn’t move. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but he should still be able to move, shouldn’t he? It was like his spine had shattered, and he couldn’t even get his toes to wiggle.
“I died, didn’t I?” Matsumoto kept teasing with the water, not uttering a word. He moved the glass along Nino’s cheek again, dragging the moisture up past his temple. “Stop it. Give me a drink already.”
It weirded him out something awful when Jun stuck his finger in the water glass, dribbling a few drops along Nino’s lips. But he was so damn thirsty that he ran his tongue along his mouth quickly before his chapped lips absorbed it all. “Like seeing me like this, huh? Poetic justice or something, Matsumoto?”
“Weren’t supposed to give him nothing.”
Sho’s voice was somewhere near the foot of the table, at Nino’s legs that he couldn’t feel any more. He tried to move his head a little, but he hadn’t even heard the sheriff enter. “Get out, Sakurai. You got me shot.”
Jun was flicking drops of water on Nino’s face, torturously slow, and most of them weren’t anywhere close to his lips. He’d been mean to the sheriff and the gunman, but he was shot. Didn’t that count for nothing? “Doc said he could have water,” Jun said, his voice laced with some kind of black humor Nino wasn’t finding too amusing.
“Well? How about it?” he complained, still trying to move. Jun merely set down the glass on some other table in the room, if the sound of something scraping on wood was any indication. “Hey. I took a bullet here, don’t be inhuman now.”
He felt Jun’s rough palm pat his cheek like he was some child. “Talk too much.”
“And I’ll holler too if you don’t give me a drink.” It was weird. How long had they been here? How long had the Doc been fixing him? The candle light in the room was making everything hazy, as if everything had a glowing halo around it. Granted, all he had to look at was the hanging lights on the ceiling, only half of which were lit.
The numbness he’d felt throughout his body seconds earlier disappeared in a flash as he suddenly felt Sakurai’s hand on his thigh. Sensation shot down to his toes as the man’s hand ran along his trousers, treading dangerously close to places that weren’t his to claim. “What...what are you...”
His eyes were going to pop out of his skull as cracked, but full lips pressed against his own. He wanted to bite, to scream at Matsumoto for it, but the hot hand on his leg and the mouth brushing against his were sending his already addled mind reeling. What the hell were they doing? Was this some revenge they’d plotted? He couldn’t see the sheriff fighting this dirty, not in a hundred lifetimes.
And in the same flash of time that had suddenly brought Sho to the foot of the table, the sheriff’s fingers were at his belt buckle. He was hard - when had the dull throb in his nethers gone to a full blown need? “This ain’t funny,” he managed to mumble before Jun had his face roughly between his hands, forcing the breath from him with a demanding kiss. The gunslinger’s fingers moved lower, gripping his neck, squeezing enough to leave Nino gasping. But as soon as he was choking, Jun’s fingers disappeared.
It was all happening in a blur. Wasn’t the doc right in the other room? Maybe he really had died, because this couldn’t be real. Jun’s fingers were running along the bandaging, and where it should have hurt, the feather light touches were instead sending waves of pleasure through him. Damn them. Jun’s breath was hot above the bandaging, finding flesh that wasn’t covered and darting his tongue across it.
“Jun, wait,” he said, desperate for the gunman as much as he was for water. Where had all this come bubbling from? Had Mendoza’s man shot the sense as well as the blood out of him? But his attention went back between his legs where Sakurai had his belt and his trousers undone and was teasing him, bringing his soft fingers along Nino’s length. The hell was happening here?
“You like when we fight back, don’t you?” Jun’s voice came beside his ear at the same time the sheriff took him in his mouth. Nino couldn’t stifle a cry at the sensation. But he didn’t get a chance to catch his breath as Jun forced his tongue between Nino’s lips, demanding and simply taking what he wanted.
The sheriff that Nino knew wasn’t the type to know what he was doing between another man’s legs, was he? But he was taking Nino’s cock into his mouth in a feverish rhythm, seemingly deeper each time. He desperately pulled his mouth away from Jun’s, body feeling a different kind of pain than a bullet wound should have been giving him. “Water, give me the damn water.”
Sho was humming now, as if he was in Pastor White’s church singing Amazing Grace with the whole congregation, and the added sensation up and down his length brought Nino over the edge. He came hard with Jun running his fingers along his lips. “Stop, oh god, you’ve gotta stop,” he breathed as Sho’s mouth vanished from between his legs.
Jun was gone suddenly, and Sho was at his side. How had they moved so fast? Sho had that damn star of his in his hand, and Nino felt it tap along his jaw line. The gleaming metal was cool, while the sheriff’s breath was burning hot at his earlobe. Nino’s toes curled in his boots as Sho’s laughter rang in his mind. “Jun, you ain’t getting him water, are you?”
Nino saw Jun’s hand come down, the fingers curling in Sho’s hair. “Man took a bullet for me. Water’s a thanks, isn’t it?” The glass was back by his lips, the precious liquid dribbling down his chin as Jun tipped it forward.
“Man’s an invalid,” Sho said, but his voice was so low Nino could barely make it out. “That left hand’s just a decoration now.”
“Fuck off.”
Matsumoto laughed. “He still has a right hand.” Nino felt Jun move alongside the table, picking up Nino’s hand in his own. “Gonna need to get him used to usin’ it.” Nino gasped as Jun pressed their clasped hands against the front of his trousers. Jun was hard, and in another one of those crazy flashes, the trousers were open, and Nino’s hand was moving up and down Jun’s length.
“How did-”
“Sssh,” the sheriff whispered, pulling his face close and kissing him with far more aggression than Nino was accustomed. Sho bit and sucked alternately at Nino’s bottom lip, pleasure and pain mingling as he listened to Jun’s frenzied breaths. He ached again, the need between his legs returning. Had it been minutes or hours since they’d started? He was fading in and out, his senses overloading.
Jun was so hard in his grasp, and Sho was tugging at his bandaging. “Don’t,” he begged. “Don’t. Got shot there, don’t undo...”
Sho obeyed, but all too well, disappearing from Nino’s side, and he managed to crane his neck enough to find that the sheriff was now behind Jun, tipping the man’s head back and devouring the other man’s mouth. Jun groaned, and Nino increased his pace of his own volition as Sho ran his hands up and down Jun’s arms.
He felt Jun come, his satisfied moans muffled by Sho’s mouth. Nino’s stomach was sticky and wet, and he just wanted one of them to pay attention to him once more. “I need...need...I...”
The pleasurable feelings seemed to vanish, and his head ached. Jun and Sho broke apart, staring at him. But it was like he was falling, through the table and down down down. The other two were so far now. He was numbing up again. No, he was finally feeling good. After so long, so many years without her...
And then she was there, standing alone at his bedside. Jun and Sho were gone.
Her touch was feather light along his chin, her pinky finger tip giving the birthmark on his chin a poke the way she always had. “Kazu, I’m sorry.” She was a blur of curls and floral perfume oil. “I’m so sorry.”
Her name was on his lips as he opened his eyes, feeling fresh pain ricocheting up and down his left side. Fuck. The lights weren’t blurred. No, everything had a perfect clarity. This was the real world now, wasn’t it? He blinked back hot tears in his eyes at the pain, physical and in his mind. He looked to the side and wanted to pinch himself.
Jun was in a chair at his side, asleep. Well, he told himself, at least he wasn’t holding a water glass. The sheriff was nowhere in sight, and all the better. The dream was already fading in his mind, although there were some bits that weren’t going to leave him any time soon.
He could have announced that he was awake. He could have made any kind of complaining remark. He could have spat at Jun’s face. But he couldn’t. Nino simply kept his eyes open, whole body aching all too realistically, watching Jun keep his vigil.
The business intertwining and twisting the three of them together - the knots were getting tighter, and soon enough they were gonna snap.
-------
Sho hadn't said a word since they'd left Cooks Peak. And Nino, horseless, was riding along in Jun's saddle again with wrappings all over his arm and shoulder, which just added extra weight Jun wasn't used to cantering with and threw off his usual sense of balance. It was going to take longer, in any case, to get back to Rapid Springs than it had taken to leave her, and with the odd tension in the air, the atmosphere Jun couldn't read, the hours seemed infinitely stretched.
The sun was hot even under the brim of Jun's hat, and he wiped the sweat away from his forehead with the back of one hand, clicking at the mare a bit. It was useless to try and increase her pace- Ninomiya's weight was added strain, and if she threw a shoe or sprained an ankle, they were all but stranded in the middle of the desert.
The mare sped a little, into an odd, short, loping trot, and then slowed down again, but not before Jun heard Nino's hissing intake of breath. The uneven gait was jostling his injured arm.
"Sorry," Jun mumbled.
"Can't you keep this damn thing steady?" the barkeep shot back, but it lacked his usual bite; there was still that unreadable underlying emotion there that was keeping him from reaching his usual malice. Maybe it was gratitude for coming after him- Jun didn't know.
Jun let the reins slide a bit through his fingers. "I- should thank you."
Nino was silent for so long Jun thought perhaps the other man hadn't heard him, but then he shifted in the saddle, hands gripping the horn very near to Jun's hands on the leather strips.
"Guess you should," he replied. His voice was low- Jun was close enough to the man's head to hear him, but Sho, riding a few feet away, wouldn't be able to pick up a thing. There was a pang in Jun's chest, a tightening, but he couldn't focus on the sheriff's insecurity while trying to pay attention to everything else. There was an ex-confederate mad-man on their tails, and Nagase seemed to be one step ahead of them the whole damn time. There had been enough killin' and carnage because of Jun already; he wasn't fixin' to have there be any more.
They rode a bit longer in silence, dust kicking up behind the mare's hooves.
"Why did you do it?" Jun asked.
Nino shifted again, and this time one of his hands crept up to finger the bandages under the thread of his shirt. "Gotta kill you myself, right?"
Jun didn't answer, but his muscles coiled unconsciously.
"Figure I still owe you that," Nino continued. "Wouldn't be fair of me to let some toothless Mexican dog take my kill, would it?"
"Mm," Jun replied.
"This doesn't mean nothing," the other man said, and there was finally some heat to his tone. "You hear me? Doesn't mean nothing."
There was a hiss from the sands to his right- rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike. Had to have been lying in the shade of one of the larger rocks. Jun's mare half-bucked in surprise and kicked out- almost hit the snake, and it backed off, but she was spooked. She took off across the sands and Jun instinctively threw an arm around Nino's waist to keep him on. The other man didn't have the stirrups for support like Jun did, didn't have the saddle conformed to fit his legs, and even though he had them, Jun was having a hard time keeping his balance on the bolting horse. He got her under control a few moments later, but the damage was done.
"Don't," Nino gasped, and his fingers were tugging at Jun's arm to loosen it.
"Sorry," Jun replied, cross. He clicked his tongue at his horse a few times, murmuring to her, and behind them, Sho was catching up, checking back in the dust for the offending reptile.
"Just don't," the saloon owner repeated, voice sounding a bit strangled.
"The hell is wrong with you?" Jun asked. "That bullet tear up more than just your shoulder or somethin'? Christ."
"You okay?" came Sho's call, as he pulled up beside them with a flick of the reins. "Fourth rattler I've seen out here today. We gotta be careful, or they'll get a clear shot at one of the horses."
Nino's fingers were digging into Jun's skin as he tried desperately to remove Jun's hold around his middle. The man was almost drawing blood, and it stung. "Let go."
Jun did, wincing at the crescent-moon shaped indentations that graced his forearm.
"Try to stick clear of the shadows," he told Sho, over his shoulder. "Rattlers keep to 'em this time of day. We're halfway there by now."
"Just passed the north bluff," the sheriff said. He pointed off behind them with one finger, but the action seemed half-hearted. Between his moroseness and Ninomiya's bizarre mood swings, Jun half-wished he'd just spot Nagase on the horizon with a muzzle aimed at his chest. Get the whole damn thing over with. He couldn't even pretend to figure out what knots were winding up 'round them all, and it was giving him a headache.
Jun could feel Nino's hitching breathing against his chest.
"The hell?" he mumbled, mostly to himself, and didn't really care if the other man heard him. He had half a mind to rail at the two of them, but it wouldn't help much- would probably just make everything worse. He was itchin' to just drop them in Rapid Springs and go, clear his head for a few days alone in the sand, but that probably wouldn't help, either. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he was so damn sick of the unreadable tension he could just quit the whole thing.
He yanked the reins harder than was necessary, turning to face the sheriff again.
"When we get there, you go talk to Aiba," he said, and it was far more demand than suggestion. "You do what you need to do, report all good-boy like, and then, you come find me."
"Could you please plan your rendezvous while I am not within hearing distance?" Ninomiya complained, but his tone still seemed a bit hoarse, and Jun wanted to smack him. Sho was just staring at him with wide eyes.
"You hear me, sheriff?" Jun asked. It came out harsher than he'd meant for it to, and when he finally deciphered the hooded look in the other man's gaze- well, he felt a little bad. Been awhile since he'd lost so much of himself, hadn't it? Hadn't he been the same way once? Seemed like ages ago, but it was there. He knew the feeling. His anger deflated a bit. "You hear me?"
"Yeah," Sho mumbled, and broke the shared gaze to stare down at his hands.
"Lovers quarrel?" Nino asked.
"Shut up," Jun spat. "You got a free pass cause of that bullet wound in your arm, but I ain't gonna let you use that forever. Enjoy it while you can."
Nino was silent for a long moment, and the gait of both horses evened out.
"Think I will, Matsumoto," he finally replied, but it was very quiet, and Jun couldn't be sure that he heard him.
-----
Someone saw them coming- who, Sho didn't know, but by the time they reached the main drag of Rapid Springs once more the sun was quickly setting and there was a crowd gathered 'round. A murmur rose when Jun and Nino slowed to a stop- had to be somethin', really, to see the saloon owner looking pale and weak and sharing a damn saddle with the man. But Sho couldn't think about that, couldn't let his thoughts linger- too long they'd already done so, and he was nearly overcome with guilt already.
His hands were trembling even as he dismounted, heels smacking into the dirt.
"All three alive?" a mutter asked near his ear.
"More or less," Sho replied, tangling the reins 'round the post. "Some more than others."
Jun was helping Nino down from the saddle, and the barkeep looked a bit shaky on his own two feet. It gave Sho a sick sense of satisfaction, and that just made him feel worse; he shouldn't be takin' pleasure in the man's pain. Ninomiya saved Jun's life, and Sho- well, Sho owed him for that, didn't he?
Another pang through his midsection, and he swallowed down bile.
"You get 'em, sheriff?" came the next question, loud and echoing and hitting him like a deluge. "You get 'em?"
"Yeah," Sho answered. He wished his tone sounded far more confident than it did. He patted his horse's rump affectionately, unhooking the cinch from the saddle. She'd been running hard without rest, and he didn't want to create sores on her back from the leather. The tack was heavy when he lifted it free, and she shook her head, mane flapping. "Yeah, we got 'em."
The din that rose then was appreciative, like a collective sigh of relief. Sho didn't doubt it- they'd all been living in the fear of Mendoza's shadow. From the corner of his vision, he could see Jun helping Nino up onto the stoop in front of the saloon. Sho sucked in a deep breath, trying to push everything away. The images of the men he'd killed hovered just beyond the faces of Rapid Springs, like the dead waiting for him to join.
He turned from the saloon, from his own doubts and gnawing insecurities.
"You know where I could find Aiba?" he asked the man nearest to him, Williams. He got a nod towards the blacksmith's shop in response.
His boots were dragging by the time he reached the forge, and he could still hear the rhythmic clinking of Aiba's hammer even in the late hour; figured, really, that the deputy was the kind of man to work to dispel troubled thoughts. Sho wondered if he was worried. Aiba'd been a kind soul, and he'd be sad when Sho was gone- right?
Sho's toes stopped just past the bound of the shop, level with the wood beam he needed to step over.
"Aiba?" he called. For some reason, he was unwilling to cross the boundary. It felt like- felt wrong, was what it felt like. His hands were stained and his conscience was black, and he had no right traipsing 'round Rapid Springs like he owned her. He never had, and it was becoming abundantly clear just how much control he lacked. For all his good thoughts and deeds, he was nothing compared to the town. Town threw him aside without a second thought, and would continue livin' on even as the sun desiccated his body.
The hammer within the building stilled. "Sheriff?"
There were heavy footsteps, and then a smile full of teeth as Aiba moved to stand in front of him.
"Aye," Sho replied, heart heavy in his chest. "Back now, deputy."
"And in one piece," Aiba said. He sounded happy. He sounded relieved, and it only twisted the knots further. Sho stared down at his boots to try and dislodge the lump in his throat. "Mendoza?"
"Gone," Sho said, shaky. "Got him. Ninomiya- took a bullet in the shoulder, but he got him."
Aiba's face fell a little. "Nino- he got shot? Is he okay?"
Sho felt infinitely weary, like he could sleep for a lifetime and still be exhausted upon waking. It wasn't pleasant; it was almost tangible weight on his shoulders.
"He'll be fine," he answered. "He'll- be fine."
"What about you?" Aiba asked; he never gave the man enough credit. He was shrewd sometimes, when it counted- when Sho didn't want him to be.
"Fine, too," he lied. In the past few days, the lie off his tongue was the least of his sins.
He turned to leave, because he couldn't handle seeing Aiba's face quirk back up into a relieved smile again. He just wanted to be alone- he wanted to be alone and surrounded at the same time, unable to find just one to cling to. All he wished was for a night of sleep where the world fell away and he was back in Boston without the true nature of the whole damn West lodged in his thoughts. Just one night when he didn't have to deal with it- that was it. One night.
"Sheriff?" the blacksmith asked, as Sho started to move away from the forge.
"Tomorrow," Sho said. "We'll just get everythin' worked out tomorrow."
Maybe Aiba heard whatever it was that was hanging in his tone- Sho didn't know. Didn't rightly care, neither, cause as long as he was left by himself there was that much less he could taint. As he drug his heels through the center drag, he thought how much better Rapid Springs would have been without his bumbling hand muckin' it all up. Been better off without his influence throwin' the whole damn town to the wolves.
He was supposed to find Jun, but the other man was probably still in the saloon taking care of Nino, and Sho didn't want to go there. Didn't want to find Jun, didn't want to have a discussion. He bypassed his station and stumbled down to the dried-out creek bed with the twisted tree, getting to the sharply dropping ridge before his legs gave out completely. He hit the dirt with force that sent pangs through his form and just stayed there, staring out at the wasteland beyond the town borders.
He should leave. He knew he should leave, 'fore anything else got fucked up. He should just go and head out into the desert and let the West do to him what it wanted. If the sun didn't kill him, the coyotes would.
There were footsteps behind him, after some amount of time had passed and the sky was nearly black.
"Sheriff." Jun sounded annoyed- angry. When Sho failed to respond, the footsteps got a bit closer, thudding against packed dirt. "If you're trying to hide from me, you're doing a piss-poor job of it."
Sho wanted to throw his hands over his ears so he didn't have to hear Jun's voice anymore. All it did was elicit more tightening in his chest, more desire in his blood. Maybe he'd kill Jun the same way he killed those men, without mercy. Without pride. He squeezed his eyes shut instead, trying to block out the world.
"Sheriff?" Jun tried again. And then his voice dropped its ire, getting softer. "Sho?"
When he didn't hear anything for awhile, Sho thought maybe the other man had left. Then there was a scuffle behind him, and two arms slipping around his shoulders, hot breath at his ear. Jun's hold was warm and solid and Sho melted into it with a little gasp of breath as everything flew out of his lungs all at once.
"Don't even think about it," Jun whispered. "Don't you dare even think about it."
There were hot trails on his cheeks that he didn't remember crying. "Why not?"
"I told you this means somethin'," was the reply, Jun's breath playing with bits of Sho's hair near his ear. "So don't you dare do that to me. Don't even think it."
The other man's arms tightened to an almost painful level, like he was convinced Sho was going to dash off right then and was fixin' to hold him back by sheer willpower. And Sho didn't mind it, cause the pain was something he could fix his thoughts on, something to focus everything in. It almost felt like something was shattering, bits of glass embedding themselves in his palms.
"Oh, God," Sho gasped. There was a sob lodged in his throat.
"Gonna get better," Jun sighed, chin resting on Sho's shoulder.
"How do you know?" Sho asked, because he couldn't quite believe- couldn't quite let himself.
"Cause you're here," Jun said simply. "You're here, and I'm here."
Sho raised his hand to tangle with Jun's, and the gunslinger kissed his head, his temple, sighing again into Sho's hair. And bit by bit, inch by inch, it felt like maybe the overwhelming desire to throw himself to the vultures was lessening.