So, yeah, I love Young Guns. And I have done role plays before with my girl Kristal Starr and Billy the Kid, and it got me thinking, I should try and do a fanfiction. So the only thing I own is my own character I created. So, yeah... please enjoy and let me know what y'all think.

Side note, I haven't ever really done fanfiction before... So bear with me. I hope it's decent. And I hope I do Billy and everyone else justice.

Chapter 1: Introductions

It had been days since she had last seen a town or really anything other than a few ranches scattered about the barren wasteland of New Mexico Territory. In a way, she was glad there was no one out and about. No one to recognize her or question why the hell she was bleeding from a hole in her side. However, she was beginning to worry about the injury. It burned fiercely despite her crude attempt to clean and gut the bullet out. She had wrapped it best she could too, but it kept bleeding, though, thankfully it had slowed.

Riding forward, she swayed on her black mustang, feeling faint. Beads of sweat had been forming on her brow, and she worried she may have a fever... which meant she probably had some sort of infection or maybe it was just too much blood loss. Cursing beneath her breath, she rode on coming to a road. Halting her horse's steps, she looked down the road in one direction. Nothing. Turning her aching head, she saw a wagon approaching. Her brows furrowed at the sight and she turned to take off when someone called out.

"Halt!" Came a very British sounding voice.

The blonde woman debated on whether to bolt. Though, she doubted she would get far. It was all she could do to stay on her horse at that moment. Not to mention the man riding shotgun had a rifle in hand. She was tired of being shot at.

"You're awfully close to my land..." The older British man spoke. "What are you doing out here?

Lifting her head up, the brim of her hat shadowing her piercing gaze, she eyed them all. It was then she noticed someone in the back of the wagon. "Wanderin'." Was all she said, her voice low and husky.

"You're a girl?" The man with the rifle said, a surprised smile flicking across his face.

"She looks like hell." Came the voice of the man in the back of the wagon, holding a pistol on her.

"William, that is no way to talk to a lady," The older man said with a shake of his head. "And you can put your gun away. There's no need for it."

"Ain't no lady here, Mister. Jus' me." She practically snarled, disliking the fact he had called her a lady.

"John, she's hurt." The man with the rifle said, his brows furrowing with worry.

The one called John frowned, noticing the blood on her shirt, shadowed by the duster coat she was wearing over it. "Alright miss, we won't do you any harm. My name is John Tunstall, this is Doc Scurlock and behind me is William Bonney." He said in introduction. "You're injured. My place is not far from here. Why not come with us. Have a hot meal and your injury looked at."

Brows furrowed, curiosity mixed with caution riddled in her sharp green eyes. "I'll be fine." She said stubbornly even as a sharp pain shot through her side, causing her to flinch.

"You are not fine, my dear. Please, you have my word. No one will harm you. We simply want to help you." John stated, offering her a hand.

Eyeing the man, she bit her lower lip in consideration. Trust was not easy for her. As warm and welcoming as this English man was, she hesitated. The pain and nausea that threatened to overtake her, however, made up her mind for her. "Fine... I won't hesitate ta shoot anyone though if I feel threatened."

"That is understandable, my dear," John said with a warm smile. "You can get in the back of the wagon with William. It might just help your injury. May I ask your name?"

"I'm fine ridin' m' horse." She said, and then frowned. Perhaps she should give a false name. Her name wasn't quite as reputable as her adoptive mother's, but it was getting up there. Ah, the hell with it. "Starr. Kristal Starr."

Doc's eyes snapped up to her. "Starr? Any relation to Belle Starr?"

Kristal just smirked, "perhaps."

"You want to play games Pendejo?" The Mexican-Indian, Chavez growled waving his knife at the jackass white boy in front of him.

"You red-assed Mexican greaser. You do it with your horse! Mexican greaser!" Steve taunted a smirk forming on his face, eyeing the knife in the other man's hand and spitting at Chavez.

"Come here you little white chicken-shit," Chavez growled twirling his knife in hand with deadly skill.

Chavez swiped at Steve, who in turn jumped back several times still taunting. "Greaser! Greaser... come on greaser, cut me there!"

Before Chavez could come at Steve again, Richard, also known as Dick, rode his horse between the two boys. "Hey, hey! Knock it off, knock it off, hey!" He shouted glaring first at Chavez then at Dirty Steve. The two then moved around the horse, Steve still heckling. "Cut me there, Mexican."

Frowning, Dick continued to try and intervene as Chavez swung again at Steve, coming rather close to contacting with the annoying man. "Knock it off! You know better, Chavez!"

"Navajo! Navajo!" Steve continued goading, enjoying getting a rise out of Chavez.

Turning back to Steve, Dick sighed in frustration. "Enough!" He then noticed John's wagon and turned back to Steve and Chavez, "John's back. Now wash up and in your supper clothes!" When neither one moved, still glaring at the other, he raised his voice a bit louder and firmer, "NOW! Both of you!"

Chavez was breathing heavily and shook his head, his hair moving out of his eyes. Steve bumped him as he walked by to go clean up and Chavez growled low, cursing the other man.

Tunstall and Doc drove the wagon towards the house. The woman on the black horse was quiet, as she rode beside them, beads of sweat still forming on her brow. She glared at the other boys she saw approaching the wagon. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Who were they all?

A blonde head, topped with a cap peeked over the side of the wagon and saw the boys gathering around. He rose an eyebrow curious, "who are them?" the boy asked.

The older man smirked, "they, William." John Tunstall corrected. "Who are they?" Turning to look at the young men that were nearing the wagon, his smirk shifted to a smile. He was proud of these boys. "They are the boys of the dregs... the flotsam and jetsam of frontier society, if you will." Pointing over to the side house, he glanced back at Billy. "We got room in the bunkhouse, my young man. If you don't want to stay... the Santa Fe runs out of Albuquerque in the morning."

Tunstall then turned to the woman on the horse, eyeing her thoughtfully. What was he going to do with her? There was no way he would allow her to sleep in the bunkhouse with all the boys. He wasn't about to take any chances. He wasn't sure of the woman's reputation, but he had one to uphold on his ranch. "You may stay in the house. I have an extra room." He was keenly aware of Doc and William's apt attention on him. However, the young woman was watching the other boys approaching, which made John frown. She seemed flighty and easily aggravated. He would need to be careful with this one. Even more so seeing the weapons she had on her.

"Why don't you come inside and we can take care of that injury, my dear girl." John offered, and the wagon stopped in front of the house.

Dick rode over then catching John's attention, but only briefly and went to Doc. "Glad you're back, Doc. Stile hold the rope inside." He said.

Doc nodded and glanced back at the woman that John was trying to talk to. She was still just staring at everyone. He still couldn't believe it. That was Kristal Starr? He had read about her briefly, but mostly about her mother, Belle Starr.

"John bring another hard case in?" Charley asked and squinted at the figure on the horse. "Or do we got two hard cases?"

"Hope it ain't another Mexican." Dirty Steve said still taunting Chavez.

"Mexican-Indian, you son-of-a-bitch!" Chavez hissed.

Tunstall shook his head and turned back to Billy, "If you do wish to stay... well... we have just the thing for you..."

Getting off the wagon, he headed for the house and then paused to look back at Kristal. "Are you coming, lass? If you're thinking of bolting, you won't get far with that wound. I won't keep you though. You're free to leave whenever you wish."

"Wait, that's a woman?" Charlie said, his eyebrows raising in surprise and delight.

"What kind of woman dresses like a man?" Dirty Steve grumbled, but he couldn't help but eye the girl either.

"She's an outlaw." Doc said softly. "Kristal Starr... Her mother... is Belle Starr."

All the men turned to look at Doc as if he were crazy. It was Dick who finally spoke up. "Who the hell cares. John's helping her out like every other hard case here, so we'll all be respectful. You hear?" They grumbled under their breaths and went on their way.

Billy, however, had merely moved to sit on the edge of the wagon, staring at the woman. "You gonna sit there all day?" He asked curiously a mischievous smirk on his face, which grew when the girl turned to look at him. "How old are you?"

"None o' yer damn business." Kristal replied turning her eyes back on the house.

"Ah, she does talk. I thought I must have imagined it." He grinned at her.

"I can do alot more'n talk... but I reckon ya'd like to keep yer tongue." She said without bothering to look at him. As if he weren't worth her time.

Billy's eyes darkened. "If you think you can do anything to me, then I'd like to see you try. Come on then?"

Turning her piercing green eyes on the blonde man, Kristal smirked. "Is that a challenge?"

"Yeah, maybe it is. Why not? Come on!"

"If I were up to par, I'd easily take ya up on that. So, why don't I take a raincheck. When I'm better, I'll whoop yer ass." Kris said smoothly.

"Unlikely. When I win, you'll owe me." Billy said his smirk returning.

"Oh? An' what might I owe ya? Not that ya'd win, mind ya." Kristal's gaze shifted back to the house, where John had disappeared to.

"I dunno yet. But I'll think of something." Billy replied with a crooked grin.

"An' if I win?" The blonde woman queried.

"That'd be up to you. Not that you'll win." The young man repeated casually.

With a dark smirk of her own, Kristal turned to him, green eyes flashing. "If I win, ya get ta leave me the hell alone." And with that, she kneed her horse forward towards the house, before sliding off and following John into the house.

Billy stood their gaping after her. But he wasn't to be deterred. Hopping off the wagon, Billy headed for the bunkhouse whistling.

Stepping foot into the house, Kristal eyed the inside, her green eyes carefully taking in her surroundings. It was a quaint home for a man who appeared to be single along with all those single boys outside. Wiping a hand on her brow, she gingerly moved in further, the wound in her side hurting like hell.

"You're not going to steal anything are you?" Came the English man's voice to her left. He had a calm smile on his face.

The young woman smirked, "nothin' worth stealin'."

John laughed and motioned for her to follow him. Kris balked at first, hesitant and wary, but finally relented. Following him down a hall, she found him in a small room with a bed, a simple dresser with a mirror and a window against the far wall. Her eyes scanned the room and then landed on what the older man had on the dresser - a bowl of water, a rag, bandages, and some alcohol.

"Please sit down." Tunstall motioned to the chair, and Kristal again hesitated before sitting. "I don't mean to seem forward, but you will need to show me the injury if I'm to mend your wound, my dear. I promise I won't do anything unsavory. I just wish to help."

Licking her lips, Kris closed her eyes and then nodded. "Ya try anythin' I'll kill ya anyway, hows that?" Taking off her hat, she set it next to her on the bed, and painfully pulled her duster coat off. Her shirt was stained with blood which made John frown. Kristal then proceeded to lift up her shirt exposing her toned stomach and the bloody bandage just under her left breast.

John's frown deepened, and he took the wet rag and looked at her to await her permission. When she merely nodded, he slowly pulled the bandage off. "You know if you tried to kill me, those boys outside would be after you in a heartbeat." It was spoken casually, but it was the truth.

At the sight of the bloody hole in her flesh, the man's expression turned sympathetic. "How did this happen?" The Englishman asked his brows furrowing at the sight. It was a miracle the girl was still alive. "Doc mentioned you're an outlaw?"

Kristal hated small talk, but as the man started cleaning her wound, she hissed in pain. This was what happened when one couldn't properly take a bullet out. Unfortunately, with where the wound was located, it was rather hard to search for a bullet which had caused her to bleed so much more than she thought was good. And she worried that anymore and she would die of blood loss. "I'd like ta see 'em try." Kris finally said. If she were up to par, she wouldn't back down from any one of those boys outside. However, she knew she was faring pretty bad. "I got shot, clearly... and whether I am or not ain't none o' yer concern." Kristal snapped due to the pain in her body.

The Englishman frowned at her snappy tone. This young girl was a feisty one. "I can't tell if the bullet is still there..."

"It's in there... I couldn't... I couldn't get it out." The young outlaw said through clenched teeth interrupting the older man. "I tried... just couldn't find it."

Pressing his lips together in thought, John straightened. "I need to get a tool to hopefully get the bullet out. I'm going to get some extra help too if that's alright with you? I'll be right back. I would suggest laying on the bed; it would make it easier to get the bullet out." Without another word, the man left the room leaving her alone.

Kris eyed the bed with a frown. It felt too vulnerable, but she needed that bullet out. She was too damn stubborn to die, so might as well do what the Englishman suggested for now. The slightest movement now made her lightheaded. It took a few good minutes before she managed to get onto the bed and lay down.

In the process of moving, she had to grab the rag and place it against the wound, so she didn't bleed any more than necessary. As soon as she laid her head down, John returned with one of the men she hadn't met.

The dark-haired man's gaze turned onto her, a frown pressing at his lips. "Doc said she's an outlaw?" He asked, his gaze washing over her. The young woman was pale, eyes he assumed we're green, faded and lined with dark circles underneath.

"That is what she said, Richard. But now is not the time. She'll bleed to death if we don't hurry. We must get that bullet out." John said placing his hand over hers where she was holding the rag. "I don't have any chloroform. So I'm afraid we'll have to..."

"Never had the stuff before... Don't need it... Jus' get it done... I've had worse than this... But, I'd rather not... bleed ta death... if ya don't mind?" The young woman said between ragged breaths.

Richard's brows rose at the woman's fiery demeanor. His eyes fell to her wound and then lowered to her abdomen, scars littered about her flesh as if she had been through quite the ordeal. "Lay still. We'll take care of it." Dick tried to soothe, though it came out gruffly.

Carefully, he lifted the bloodied rag and swore. "You're lucky to be alive." He said reaching for the alcohol.

"No shit?" The blonde growled, her pale eyes flashing between pain and anger. "Quit the small talk... "

"I'll have you know, ma'am, we're the ones helping you. So if you can..." Dick began, his own irritation growing.

"Richard..." John spoke up, his voice firm, coming over with a pair of long skinny forceps and some fresh bandages. Dick immediately shut his mouth. "When I say, pour the the alcohol over the wound. I need to be able to see." Tunstall's eyes went to the woman. "This is going to hurt. Do you need something to bite down on."

Shaking her head, sweat beading on her brow. "No, jus'... Jus'... Do it."

With a nod, John looked at Richard who then poured the alcohol over the wound. The woman inhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists and squeezed her eyes shut, but other than that made no sound. Richard was impressed. He watched as John dug the forceps into her flesh, wincing at the sight. His gaze then went back onto the woman who showed no emotion, though her eyes remained closed.

It took some time; the bullet was lodged deep. No wonder the woman was bleeding so much. She was lucky it didn't hit her lungs or shatter her ribs. After what seemed like forever, John pulled the bullet out and placed it on the tray. His gaze went to the woman who was now eyeing him weakly. "I'll sew it up now, and place a fresh bandage. You can rest my dear. I swear to you; we mean you no ill will."

Kristal felt weak and tired. No, she was exhausted. It was hard to keep her eyes open after that agonizing pain. Her gaze flicked to the bullet before nodding and laying her head down. If she didn't rest, she was going to end up passing out and she definitely didn't want that. Her eyes closed without saying a word and she drifted into a deep slumber as Tunstall and Richard continued to fix up her wound.