Better Outrun My Gun -
It's the third day. By now Erik has begun entertaining the possibility that Shaw might be planning to simply keep him like this, like a dog. He pulls at the chain, but it doesn't budge. He struggles to his feet, but what good does that do? He can only walk as far as the length of chain. If Shaw would just give him a gun and let Erik face him... That's all he wants. Is it really too much to ask for?
The water bowl is dry. Erik's tongue is dry in his throat. His stomach rumbles. He tries not to think of Charles's cooking, which doesn't do any good. It's impossible not to think of Charles. All the best memories Erik has involve Charles.
He closes his eyes and swallows slowly. Soon Shaw will tire of this game and kill him. It's inevitable.
Shaw smokes a cigar in the early evening light as he watches Erik. “So tell me, Erik...what did you really hope to achieve by coming here?”
Erik ignores him.
Janos pulls Erik's head up by the hair. “Answer the question.”
Erik winces dully. “You already know the answer.”
Shaw shrugs, then nods at Az who brings the heel of his boot down hard on Erik's right hand. Erik screams then. His hand feels mangled, destroyed. He draws it back, cradling it to his chest, not caring that he's lying there in front of his enemy.
Shaw watches him for a moment, then leans in. “In a day or two, I'm going into town, and pick up your friends. Maybe you'll still be alive by then. Maybe not. If you are,” Shaw nudges him with his boot. “I'll let you watch while I fuck the girls. Moira seems so feisty. I'll bet she's really pliant in bed though, bet she'll just shut up and take it. That redhead though, she'll be a handful. Maybe I should put a bridle on her and tame her with my cock.”
Janos laughs at that, the harsh rattle of his laughter grating on Erik's ears.
“And then there's the boy.” Shaw grins down at Erik. “He's not to my taste, but if you're still around....you know what I'll do? I'll heat up a nice hot poker and stick it up his ass for you. Ten to one he'll scream his little head off for you to save him.”
Calm, Erik thinks, I must remain calm. If the rage he's feeling now escapes...Shaw will just kill him.
Isn't that what you want? The broken voice whispers. For it to all be over? Finished? Not like this. Erik thinks. So he says nothing as he kneels in the dirt at Shaw's feet still cradling his hand.
Shaw's grin disappears. “I expected more from you, Erik.” He sighs, and nods to the men. “Tie him in the barn.”
Erik's lying still in the darkness, bound hand and foot. The night air seeps through the shreds of his clothing. He's cold, but barely feels it. The things Shaw said about the three siblings. The man could be kidding, or he could mean every word. Erik can't take the chance.
He pushes himself up, straining with the effort. His legs tremble, and he collapses on his side, wheezing with the effort. It's no good.
“Erik.” A voice whispers to him.
Erik turns his head sharply. There in the darkness of the barn stands Charles.
“Charles,” Erik croaks. “You can't be here.” If Shaw catches him, he'll have exactly what he wants. “You're just a dream, Charles.” He must be.
“No, my friend.” The figure comes forward and slips an arm around Erik, holding him up. “I'm not a dream.”
The shoulder under his arms is strong, propping Erik up against him as Charles works quickly to untie him. Then he helps Erik to his feet. The blood rushing to Erik's ankles stab at him as he walks, but he forces himself to go on, holding on to Charles. They make it out into the night air and he shivers as Charles leads him behind the barn.
“Please tell me you brought a horse this time.” Erik mutters wearily.
“No, I didn't.”
Erik sighs. “Charles.”
“But Raven did.” Charles smiles.
Raven's waiting with the horses. Her shoulders slump in relief as she sees them approach. They pull Erik up onto the horse slowly. He sways, but then Charles is in the saddle behind him, steadying him.
“Come on,” They ride silently away from the ranch.
Erik doesn't remember most of the ride. The darkness seems to last forever, but Charles's arms are sturdy and warm, holding him. Then he's warm in the soft lamplight, and there are voices talking above him. Something damp touches his face, soothing him, and then he's asleep.
When Erik wakes the next time everything is blurry. He hurts, but not as much. He pushes himself up. The door opens and Raven comes in.
“Oh, no you don't.” She pushes him back down in the bed.
“You can't keep me here,” Erik protests. “It's too dangerous.”
“Just lie still. Here.” She brings a mug to his lips, “Take a sip.”
“Tell Moira I need to speak with her.”
“She's busy in the bar.” Raven says briskly. “Now drink.”
“Then tell Charles. It's important. Raven, please.”
“All right. But only if you drink all of your broth.” She goes.
Erik sips at the broth. It soothes the dryness of his throat. There's still the ache in his head, the pain in his torso, his hand.... He's broken, useless and still a danger to them.
“Raven said you wanted to see me.” Charles is standing in the doorway.
Erik pushes himself up once more. “You can't keep me here, Charles. It's too dangerous.”
“It's safer than where you were.” Charles points out, stepping inside the room and closing the door.
“What do you think Shaw will do to you when he finds me here? To Raven? To Moira? “ Erik demands. “Don't you realize this is the first place he'll look?” Charles can't be this stupid, and yet apparently he is.
Charles comes over to the bed. “What were we supposed to do? Leave you there and let him kill you? Torture you to death?”
“Yes.” Erik says flatly. “That's exactly what you were supposed to do.”
“I couldn't.” Charles says simply.
“Charles, don't be an idiot.” Erik leans back against the headboard. Everything aches. He presses a hand to his chest before he can stop himself.
Charles looks at the healing wounds. “I can't help that either.”
“If anything happens to you.” Erik breaks off. “I won't let it.”
“You're hardly in a position to do anything.” Charles points out, not unkindly.
“Please.” Erik mutters hoarsely. “I can't bear it if anything happens to you.”
Charles's eyes soften and he lays a hand over Erik's good hand. “Do you doubt that I feel the same? Erik, if he had killed you...” He halts himself, and shakes his head. “You're not going anywhere.”
“Charles,” Erik can't let him do this.
He leans in before Erik can protest any more. “Shhh.” His lips press tenderly to Erik's, a whisper of a kiss. “It's going to be all right, Erik.”