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~/~/~( Chapter 7 )~~~



Mac kept his eyes down as he rode along side Branson, his hat pulled low over his face. He kept as still as he could, feeling as if an explosion would hit him at any moment. He was ashamed of himself, he had betrayed Branson because he was scared. What kind of outlaw got scared?

“Hey, Mac,” spoke Branson, causing the red headed youth to jump, “Yer awful quiet.” Branson stared at the nervous face, his gray eyes narrowing, “You hidin’ somethin’? ‘Cause yer actin’ like a cornered rabbit.”

“N-no, Branson,” stammered Mac, swallowing nervously, “I ain’t hidin’ anything.”

Branson’s eyes narrowed to slits as Mac quickly looked away, so Branson couldn’t see his face. Branson had always had a knack for reading people and right now he wasn’t all too pleased with what he was witnessing in the young outlaw beside him. He pulled his horse to a stop, raising a hand to halt his remaining men, two of whom were sportin’ bruised faces after informing Branson at their failed attempt at getting the gambler. The other two didn’t tell Branson that they had caught and then lost Nick, they did hold some value over their lives.

Branson stared long and hard at Mac, causing the youth to shift uncomfortably, “What aren’t you tellin’ me, Mac?”

Mac’s head snapped up at the menacing tone, his brown eyes widening at the sight of Branson’s threatening glare. He cleared his throat and spilled his guts, he was getting the feeling that he wasn’t cut out for this outlaw stuff.

Branson’s whole demeanor seemed to darken as Mac informed him that Kevin and the others now knew where the contractor was waiting for his bounty. When Mac finished, silence encompassed the small band of outlaws. Branson stared at his horse’s dark mane, a sinister smile soon turning his lips as he looked at his men. Mac shuddered.

“You know why I had you go after that gambler, and you know how much money the kid is worth,” Branson said slowly, carefully explaining to his men, “I know what is goin’ on in the mind of Richardson, he’s gonna go right to the source.” Branson smiled, “He’s gonna take our bounty to the man for us, we jus’ gotta grab him ‘fore he gets all the way there... Carter is worth a lot of money, money I intend to collect... and I want to get rid of the last of those damned Richardsons so I can finally finish what I started nine years ago, but,” paused Branson, his cold eyes glinting, ”I’m gonna get that Richardson in my own kinda way, make ‘im feel like ‘is heart’s ripped out a second time.”

Branson laughed at his plan that only he could see in his mind, his gray eyes glazing over in madness. His men each had to blink, truly considering if what they were doing was worth continuing on with a crazy man. Branson’s voice was cold and calculated as he spoke, “We’re gonna kill two birds with one stone, boys.”

After adjusting his reins, Branson glared at Mac, “I’ll take care of you later.”

Mac paled, his heart seeming to stop in his chest. Branson gave him one last look and then spurred his horse into a gallop, the rest of his men following. Mac hesitated, then kicked his own horse into a gallop after his fellow outlaws. He had to think of something... and fast. Mac had finally realized that he wasn’t what Branson had tried to make him after all...

~/~/~( 5 hours later, on the trail )~~~

Brian hated long... really long days in the saddle, it got to wearing on your nerves and gave you too much time to think. What’s worse, the company he was currently keeping was in the realm of non conversationalists. A man could shuffle cards for only so long before it got old, and the scenery was monotonous. Dust, grass, hill, distant mountains... that’s it. Same thing wherever you look.

With a frustrated sigh, Brian shoved his deck of cards back into his jacket. He winced slightly as he pulled his shoulder, but pushed it to the back of his mind. He nudged Joker into a trot and sidled up along side Kevin.

Brian eyed the silent man, “Kevin, how much more distance must we travel until we reach the land marked mountain pass of Pike’s Peak?”

Kevin shrugged, not looking at Brian, “’Bout an hour’s worth, maybe two.” Kevin sent a green eyed glance at the gambler, “Why? Bored?”

Brian raised his eyebrows, then replied, letting some of his sarcasm and dry wit come forth, “Me? Bored? Why, I’d never be weary of the interminable silence from the company of four other beings of my species, to which I have decamped through the most vile and uncivilized imitations of the slightest inclination of the describatory word of towns. Not to allude the simply stirring surroundings I have had the utmost fortuitousness in staring at for the past five hours...” Brian stopped, tilting his head at Kevin, “Shall I go on? Or have you grasped my meaning?”

Kevin now stared fully at Brian, his face blank. He roughly shook his head, “God-damn, Brian! You need to simplify that mouth o’ yours or else I’m gonna haveta shoot the blamed thing off!”

Brian smiled roguishly, his blue eyes sparkling, “Touché, Kevin.”

Kevin glared at him, “Just shut yer trap! It hurts my ears listening to yer damned mile long sentences.”

Brian frowned, then nodded his head in acceptance. He didn’t know if he’d ever break through the barrier Kevin had put around himself, didn’t know if Kevin would ever acknowledge him as family. With a small sigh, Brian pulled his horse up slightly and now rode along side Nick, “And how are you, Mr. Carter?”

Nick sent Brian a weird look, “You jus’ call me ‘Mr. Carter’?”

Brian smiled, “Indeed I did, you do not like that kind of address?”

Nick scowled, pulling his head back, “Hell no, rather jus’ be called Nick or Kaos. It’s a whole lot simpler.”

“I see,” grinned Brian, shifting his seat and causing his saddle leather to creek, “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any idea yet of who wants you so bad? I mean, the man obviously has money.”

Nick frowned and stared straight ahead, “No, I don’t know who it is.”

Brian frowned yet again as Nick nudged Journey into a trot and pulled away from him. Brian furrowed his brow and reached a hand up to scratch beneath his hat, wondering why he’d suddenly lost his conversation skills. He stretched and shifted in his seat, not able to stop the wince that flashed across his face as his shoulder burned at the movement.

“You okay?”

The soft voice startled Brian, though you wouldn’t know it from looking at him as his appearance remained the same, “Fine and dandy, Howie.”

Howie tilted his head at the gambler riding across from him, “Ya sure? Shoulder’s not botherin’ ya none?”

Brian gave the healer a grin, “It’s only a minor inconvenience, I assure you. I’ve had worse.”

Howie raised an eyebrow, “Really? Cheat the wrong people at cards?”

Brian frowned, “I do not cheat, some people simply assume I do when they lose... repeatedly.”

Howie smiled and nodded, “Uh-huh... So, um... Been meaning to ask ya... What’s the deal between you and Kevin?”

Brian looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, well...” Howie paused, searching for the right words, “You seem to be tryin’ to vie for his attention left and right, and he don’t want nothin’ to do wit’cha, but I can tell he wants ya around... if that makes any sense. So, what’s the deal? Why’re you tryin’ so hard?”

Brian was silent for a few minutes, his gaze on the ground moving beneath their horses’ feet. He sighed and looked up, his blue eyes fixed on the back of Kevin, “We’re family.”

Howie’s eyes brightened, understanding filling their depths. He blinked as he remembered the remark Brian said when they had decided to follow Kevin, I am the only family he has left. Howie faced the pensive man beside him, “How’re you related?”

“Cousins,” was the simple answer.

Howie nodded thoughtfully, wondering at the sudden simpleness of Brian’s speech. He tried for more information, “You’ve not known each other long then?”

Brian shook his head, “I met up with him about five minutes before we ran into you. So I know about as much as you do about the man... You do know of his past, correct?”

Howie frowned and nodded, “Sadly, yes. Not that many people don’t know about it. It’s pretty much common knowledge, as is his name.” Howie stopped and sighed, shaking his head slightly, “I know of the road that Kevin is travelin’, and if he ever reaches the end of it...” Howie looked Brian straight in eyes, “It can be jus’ as bad as the first day your heart was ripped apart, only now ya know there’s nothin’ you can do about it anymore. You feel jus’ as empty, if not more.”

Brian stared at Howie, the intensity and seriousness of his words portraying a hidden knowledge. Brian cleared his throat and thought through what the healer said, a question soon reaching his lips and coming out almost tentatively, “How do you know of this, Howie? It’s as if you speak from experience.”

Brian watched as Howie’s eyes clouded over, a sadness of pain and remorse entering the brown depths. Howie nodded slightly and turned away. For a moment Brian thought he had lost another perfectly good conversation when the ex-gunslinger spoke, “I walked the same steps as Kevin, only I achieved my goal. Let me tell you, it didn’t take away the pain or emptiness and that jus’ made it worse. I went downhill and fast,” Howie shook his head, “If it weren’t for AJ...” Howie stopped, his eyes glancing back at the tracker, “I turned my life around and ‘ave tried to help people instead of waste my life away feelin’ sorry for myself. That’s why I’m ridin’ along side ya right now, Brian, instead of hopelessly drunk in some rundown saloon or six feet under.”

Brian stared, for once at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head. He finally forced out a question, “What happened to you, Howie? What did that to you? I mean, you hardly seem the type to ever be like Kevin.”

Howie smiled sadly, “I once had a beautiful wife that I loved dearly and an adorable baby girl I cherished. They were my whole life, so when they were taken from me without a second’s warnin’... It killed somethin’ in me that I don’t think will ever be revived.” Howie blinked as his vision blurred, letting out a soft sigh, “They killed my wife and daughter, Brian, for no more reason than entertainment on a drunken binge. I’ll never be able to erase the image of their lifeless bodies, whether I see it in dreams or the light o’ day, it’ll never fully go away. I can only live the days fer others so that I might ‘ave relief from my own thoughts.”

Brian frowned, seeing the long felt pain still held in the brown eyes, “Surely it must get better as time goes on.”

Howie smiled half-heartedly, “Oh, yes. The pain does lessen, the guilt does fade, but... you never get over the feelin’ of wakin’ up in your bed and reachin’ over fer someone that’ll never be there again. You never get over walkin’ down a town’s street and hearin’ a child’s laugh and swearin’ to God it was yer little girl only to turn and see a stranger. So, yes Brian. Some things get better, but some things never can go away.”

Brian blinked and slowly nodded his head, accepting the private knowledge Howie had just provided him with. He felt it only necessary to divulge some of his own, “I know it can never go away, but you can learn to accept it as a part of you and move on. We are not made to live in the past, Howie. We are people of the present, of the future. Dwelling on our past will only kill our future, you are not living if you know of only the past and nothing else. You move on, you live on. It may just be as simple as that.”

Howie looked at Brian, not surprised to see nothing on the man’s face or to have not heard any emotion in his words, “You’ve had a rocky past as well, Brian?”

Brian smirked, but Howie could see just a glimmer of sadness in the blue eyes, “Haven’t we all?”

Howie nodded, knowing he would get no further with the gambler. Their conversation stopped there, but they continued on riding side by side, a companionable silence between them.

AJ stretched his back and made his routine cursory glance behind them, soon satisfied they weren’t being followed. Looking ahead, he frowned. He had good ears and had been able to hear Howie and Brian’s entire conversation. He knew pretty much all of what Howie spoke of already, but Brian’s contribution puzzled him. He knew there was more to the gambler, things that were big and had hurt the man terribly. He could tell by how he perceived everything and everyone with a practiced eye, sizing them up to see if they could be trusted. The Southerner has had as shaky a past as the rest of them it seemed.

AJ tilted his head, realizing how much alike they were. You couldn’t see it on the outside, most absolutely not. Their outward appearances were as different as you could get, but they all shared the feeling of being different, of just not fitting in the grand scheme of things. They all seemed to mesh pretty good together though, as if it were meant for them to meet and become friends.

With a shake of the head, AJ snapped out of his musings. It would do them no good to be caught off guard when they were in the middle of an area basically screaming out ambush. AJ looked around him, recognizing the formations around him.

Pike’s Peak.

The namesake mountain could be seen from where they were as they rode into the pass. The mountains reached far above them on either side, causing many dark shadows to cast themselves over them and create an atmosphere simulating night, even as you could see the setting sun and orange blue sky above.

AJ straightened as a recognizable silhouette rode up to him, “Kevin.” AJ nodded to the man.

Kevin gave him a brief nod, “You think we’ll see any trouble?”

AJ felt uneasy in the shadows that blanketed them and pressed his lips together before answering, his eyes briefly flicking at Howie as he joined them, “I’d be lyin’ if I say no, cowboy. This area is known for its trouble, perfect place for an ambush.”

Howie cleared his throat, “Maybe we ought to go back a ways and make camp, it’s gettin’ late. I don’t really like the idea of goin’ through the pass at night, bad enough in daylight.”

Kevin glanced at where Brian and Nick sat astride their horses, patiently waiting around forty feet ahead. Kevin looked back to Howie and AJ, “Let’s head on back then, no use gettin’ stuck in ‘ere at night.”

They nodded and turned their horses around, Kevin lifting an arm to wave Nick and Brian over.

A hollow crack and then a rolling, crackling whisper caused their heads to snap up, looking to the vast rock walls around them. A hazy, rolling dust cloud was building in size and closeness above them to their right, the sound of heavy rocks impacting fellow rock reaching their ears, echoing throughout the pass.

AJ’s eyes widened in panic, “Rock slide!! ... Nick! Brian! Get out of there!”

Nick stared in horror as the rocks and dust came right at them, frozen to his spot. Journey was not so immobile and with a frantic neigh, wheeled around and bolted further into the pass, taking his stunned rider with him.

Brian watched Nick take off and followed suit, running a good fifty yards away before skidding to a stop. They both looked back at where they’d come from and could only see dust, the shadows of the pass making it even more difficult to see. Brian looked at Nick beside him and could only make out the rebel’s silhouette and a faint difference in color where his gray shirt and tanned skin were.

As the rocks finally settled, the dust billowed out further and toward Nick and Brian, shrouding them in a dusty fog. With the rocks no longer making a sound, Brian could hear a distinct click, followed by several others.

Brian quickly inhaled and then coughed, taking in the dust. Aw, hell...

A low laugh rolled up to them through the haze and shadows, soon followed by a menacing voice, “Well, boys, looks like we caught our two birds.”

Nick felt fear and hatred rip through him simultaneously, he drew his gun, his eyes narrowing as he ground out, “Branson.”

“Nick, my boy! Good to see you again... or rather, not see you,” Branson laughed, the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel reaching the two cornered young men.

Nick had to focus his attention on Journey suddenly as the horse half reared, shuffling back several steps, angry snorts escaping the steed’s nose. Nick kept a firm rein and talked smoothly in a low and calming voice, “Whoa there, Journey. Take ‘er easy.”

“I don’t think yer horse likes me, Carter.”

Nick’s eyes snapped to his left side, panic streaking through him as he made out Branson’s form right beside him, no more than a foot away. Then Nick saw the metallic gleam and knew he was caught.

“Brian?” called Nick, not taking his eyes off Branson. “You okay?”

Silence, then, “At the moment? Well, I have been in better situations, but then again, I’ve also been in worse.”

Brian sat stock still on Joker, his blue eyes in a stare at the two men at his side with guns trained on his heart. Oh, however do we get ourselves into these situations...

Branson gestured to Nick and the weapon he still held in his hand, “Why don’t you two get off them horses o’ yours and hand them guns over, all nice an’ good like, eh?”

Slowly, Nick and Brian dismounted, soon relieved of their weapons. Brian had to suppress a smile though, as they hadn’t taken his derringer, it still hidden up his right sleeve. Brian grimaced as the two men guarding him roughly ushered him toward Nick and Branson, the air around them beginning to clear somewhat.

Branson had a bright glint in his eyes as he ordered his men, “Get the rope and tie their hands, then get ‘em back astride and tie ‘em to their saddles.” Branson smiled at Nick and Brian, “Don’t want you’s gettin’ away after all that trouble we went to gettin’ ya.”

Soon, Nick and Brian were back astride and were in the process of being tied hands and feet to their saddles when distant shouts reached them.

“Brian! Nick! Ya’s all right?!”

“Kaos! Brian!... Damn it! Answer us ‘fore I get real mad and come hunt you both down and shoot yer damned asses off!”

An indignant, “Kevin!” Then, “Are you hurt?! ... C’mon, guys! Say somthin’!!”

“Kevin!” yelled Nick quickly, his eyes darting to Branson, “Kev, it’s Branson! He’s got u-”

Nick’s voice cut off abruptly with a scream of pain and he leaned over in his saddle, his breath coming in short pants of controlled agony.

~/~/~( )~~~

“NICK!” Kevin’s intense green eyes stared at Howie and AJ, their expressions telling him they heard the scream as well. Kevin scowled in anger, though his eyes deepened in fear, “Branson. Damn it to hell! He planned this whole damn thing!”

AJ looked at the dust ahead of them, his face angry with helplessness, “We can’t do anything until this dust settles, we can’t see ‘em. Plus, we don’t know how blocked the pass is by the rocks.”

Howie stared at the pass, his face worried, “We know where he’s goin’, we atleast have that.”

Kevin’s face set in a dark countenance, “If either one of ‘em is hurt when we get ‘em back... Branson is a dead man, seven times over.”

~/~/~( )~~~

“What the hell did you do that for?!?” yelled Brian, his blue eyes glaring at Branson. He had jabbed the butt of his rifle hard into Nick’s left side, the same place the youth’s gunshot wound was.

“It shut him up, didn’t it?” growled Branson, meeting Brian’s glare steadily, “An’ if you don’t shut yer own damn mouth I’ll do the same to you!”

Brian narrowed his eyes dangerously, but kept his mouth shut. Branson turned to his men, “C’mon, we need to head out. Soon as the dust clears Richardson and those other two will be comin’.”

One of the men walked up to them leading several horses, the outlaws mounting and turning out of the pass. Two of the men came and took the reins of Joker and Journey, though not without almost being bit several times by the protective horses.

As they were lead away from the dust and away from their three friends, Brian took the time to look over at Nick. He could see Nick’s form hunched over his saddle, but couldn’t make out his face. He could hear Nick’s heavy breathing, it now coming in loud, measured breaths as he tried to overcome the obvious pain he was feeling.

Brian’s face twisted with worry, “Nick... Nick! You doing okay?”

Nick heard Brian and nodded his head. When Brian called his name again, he realized he couldn’t see the small movement, so he licked his lips and forced out a voiced reply, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, Nick,” drawled Brian, the fear and worry he was feeling deepening his accent, “He hit you where you’re gunshot, right?”

“Yeah,” breathed Nick, he didn’t want to talk, even that hurt. Nick squeezed his eyes shut and then forced himself to sit somewhat straight in his saddle as they plodded along, the setting sun beginning to break through to them as they reached the end of the pass and the rock formations broke apart somewhat. Nick winced, a pinched look remaining on his face as his side burned in pain. He groaned softly, feeling a warm stickiness slowly trickling down his side, soaking into his dark jeans and stiffening the material. He didn’t need this right now.

The air was becoming clearer and Brian could now make Nick’s form out better, his face was turned away from him though. Brian knew Nick was still in pain, he knew the hit had to have hurt his still healing gunshot wound... He just didn’t know how bad. He’d have to wait until they stopped for the night to check on the rebel.

As the atmosphere cleared fully, Brian saw the lead horses pick up the pace, the horses leading he and Nick breaking into a trot. He heard Nick gasp as their own steeds were forced into the faster gait. Brian became even more worried as Nick gave up the task of remaining sitting upright and once again slumped over his horse’s neck, his form jarring with his horse’s movements.

Brian had to concentrate on himself as they broke into a hasty gallop, the dust billowing up behind them and their horses’ pounding hooves echoing around them and off the rock walls that still surrounded them. Brian had to grind his teeth together as his own wound began to throb in pain, his writs tied to the saddle horn and jerking taunt with every rocking movement of his horse, the force pulling on his shoulder.

They rode like this for several hours before slowing, now riding through a more spacious landscape, the mountains having moved off in the distance and the ground before them stretching into the horizon in a more level setting. The sun had almost set completely and only a deep reddish orange hue stretched over them, their black shadows leading away from them in long lines.

Brian was tired, very tired. He’d been riding for more than eight hours straight now and felt it. His sleepy blue eyes drifted over to Nick for the umpteenth time, concern creasing his brow at the silence and lack of movement from his friend. Brian grimaced, then tried to roll his left shoulder in an effort to ease the strain. Some of the stitches had torn and the graze had bled slightly, but Brian believed it wasn’t serious and the bleeding had stopped an hour or so ago, so he blocked it out of his mind the best he could.

The little light they had left lessened drastically to no more that a faint orange glow. The night had fallen and they still rode along, having yet to stop. Brian had no idea how far they had traveled, it had all passed him by like a confusing blur and he didn’t really see a point in cataloging the journey. He knew where they were going and thought it more wise to think of a way to stay alive and find escape, to be back with his friends and out of danger... well, as out of danger as he could be. It did have a way of following him around like a lost dog.

The continued silence from Nick was gnawing at Brian’s insides, he knew it wasn’t a good sign. Either Nick was in too much pain to talk, or he was unconscious. The longer the silence stretched, the more Brian thought it was the latter. Nick was too quiet, he didn’t like it and hoped they stopped soon. They had to.

No sooner than that thought did the horses ahead of him stop, the outlaws dismounting. The man that had lead Brian’s horse walked up to the gambler and untied him from the saddle, grabbing his arm roughly and jerking him out of his seat. Brian bit his lip as more of his stitches tore in the man’s fierce grip, but didn’t make a sound and managed to land on his feet and not on his butt. Looking over at Nick, he saw an outlaw untying the blond. Nick never moved. The man grabbed hold of Nick’s arm and Brian’s eyes widened at what he knew the man would do, “Hey, no! Don’t!”

The man just grinned at Brian’s plea and then yanked Nick out of the saddle, the rebel’s body hitting the ground on his injured side with a bone jarring thump. Brian shrugged the hands off of his arms and hurried to Nick as the youth groaned in pain, trying to roll off his injured side. Journey was having a fit, his dark eyes wide as he stared down at his man and pranced about nervously.

Brian reached Nick’s side and kneeled down, placing his bound hands on Nick’s shoulder and gently rolling him over. Nick moaned and slowly blinked his eyes open, staring owlishly up at Brian with confused blue orbs. He spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Brian?”

Brian smiled sadly, gazing down at the dim features highlighted in the moon’s glow, the sun fully set, “Yeah, I’m still here. How are you feeling, Nick?”

Nick closed his eyes with a shaky sigh, “Tired...” He placed his bound hands over his left side, “Hurts.”

Brian glanced around and was glad to see the outlaws were letting him tend to Nick, two of them guarding them as the others made camp. Brian returned his gaze to Nick and gently moved Nick’s hands away from his side, reaching with his own and pulling the black vest aside. The lower half of the gray shirt was black in the dim light, Brian sighed, “How long have you been bleeding, Nick?”

Nick shrugged and winced, “Since he hit me... off and on.”

Brian frowned, then unbuttoned Nick’s shirt and pulled the bloody bandage underneath away from the wound. His blue eyes squinted in fear and worry, “Aw, jeez.”

The wound was torn by the force of the blow inflicted on it, a large dark bruise surrounding he torn flesh. Brian reached around and was relieved to find the exit wound to be still in good condition, the stitches still in place and not bleeding. Brian bit his lip and looked up at the men walking around the camp, seeing the fire now burning brightly several yards away. He needed to clean and bandage the wound or it would get infected.

With a deep breath, Brian called out, “Mr. Branson?! If I may have your attention?”

Branson pushed to his feet from where he sat by the fire, lumbering over to the con man, “What the hell do ya want?”

Brian remained indifferent and gestured to Nick, “I need water, alcohol, and some bandages to care for his wound.”

Branson chuckled as he looked at Nick, he didn’t know the kid was gunshot before he hit him. He liked it, it made him feel good, “So? Why should I help you an’ him?”

Brian inwardly fumed, but answered in a level drawl, “I believe he is worth more alive, correct? If he doesn’t receive proper attention, he will not be in that state when you reach Monument.”

Branson frowned, rubbing his stubbled jaw. With a disgruntled sigh, he nodded, “Fine. I’ll get yer stuff, but jus’ ‘cause I could use the extra money.”

As Branson walked away, Brian let the anger show on his face. Oh, how he wanted to wipe that smirk off of Branson’s ugly face. A few minutes later, one of the outlaws approached with the supplies Brian requested. As Brian took them from the outlaw, he noticed the young man didn’t leave right away. With a frown, Brian looked up to see a young red-headed man who’s dark eyes darted from Nick to the outlaws surrounding them.

The young man spoke, “Is... um, is he gonna be okay?”

Brian’s brow furrowed, “I think so.”

With a nervous nod, the youth smiled slightly, “Good.” Then he walked quickly away.

Brian watched him go and his frown deepened, then a glint of hope entered the jeweled blue eyes before he set to cleaning Nick’s wound. Nick didn’t react much to the water, but his blue eyes snapped open and he arched his back with a cry as Brian applied the alcohol.

Brian placed a steadying hand on Nick’s chest, “I’m almost done, Nick. Just hang in there for me, okay? Just a little longer.” Brian had long since abandoned using his complicated vocabulary, not possessing the effort and not really caring for it at the present time. He just wanted Nick to get better.

He finished cleaning Nick’s side and sat Nick up so he could bandage it. Once that was done, he buttoned Nick’s shirt back up to help keep the chill of the night out. Brian knew this was as close as they would get to the fire, it would be a long night.

Brian sat back and rested his arms on his knees, having decided his wound didn’t need much tending and taking a rest. He reached over and placed a hand on Nick’s forehead, feeling the beginnings of a mild fever... atleast he hoped it would only be mild. He sighed and brushed the hair that fell over Nick’s forehead back before lifting his hand to remove his hat, rubbing his head tiredly.

He looked up at the starry sky and the full moon that gave them some light over the darkened landscape. His gaze fell to the campfire before him and the figures grouped around it, then to the pale young man lying to his side. Brian sighed and rubbed his eyes. A long night indeed.