Feedback: positive comments welcome publicly.
Reader Alert: G rated.
Summary: The first kill is always the hardest. Adam works through his inner struggle afterwards.
He shivered and absently pulled the jacket tighter around his shoulders, staring at the revolver resting in his open hands. His hands were trembling as the memories rose up and enveloped the young man swiftly. Forcibly he pushed away the image of the unseeing eyes staring unflinchingly and accusingly back at him. The chest that would no longer rise and fall with life-giving breath was decorated with a gaping red hole that blood oozed out of.
Everyone in town had been quick to assure him that he had no choice in the matter and wasn't to blame. Logically, he knew they were right, that if he hesitated any longer his brothers would be dead and he with them, but his emotions weren't so sure. A man was dead by his hand. He felt his chest tighten at the thought and blinked back the threatening tears. Everyone claimed he was smart, and if he was so smart why couldn't he find another way that didn't involve bloodshed?
He could still feel the almost tangible rage flood through him into the deadly calm as he had pulled the gun from the holster and fired. He could clearly hear the loud blast and then the deafening silence that followed. For a few moments the world stood still and an eternity passed by, and then his ears began to clear and he could hear his own ragged breathing and the shouts around him as he watched the man sink to his knees before finally falling back, never to rise again.
The anger had left him then, leaving him pale and shaking full of guilt at his previous wish for another man's pain and death. He had gotten his wish, all right, but now he couldn't think straight enough to know what to do. The regret and guilt was all consuming and he just dropped his arm to his side and stood there staring at the still corpse.
The events that followed were clouded and vague for him as someone pulled him from the alley way to sit on the steps of a nearby store and a cup of coffee had been place beside him, but he ignored the offered drink along with the soothing voice talking quietly in his ear, barely aware of either's existence. They had moved the body hours ago, but he still stared at the darker traces left in the dirt where it had lain, only vaguely aware that the town activity was quietly returning to normal.
He blinked as a sudden pair of legs halted before him, and looking up into his Pa's worried face he soon found himself enveloped in a tight embrace the very next moment. He could hear his own tearful voice repeating over and over again, "I killed him, Pa. I killed him."
The reassuring arms tightened and softly his Pa replied, "I know, but you had no choice. Your brothers are alive and safe because of you. It'll be okay now."
He nodded briefly into the shoulder and allowed his Pa to lead him over to his two younger brothers waiting anxiously by the wagon. Immediately Joe, only four, reached out for his eldest brother and Hoss smiled comfortingly with a soft, "Thanks."
Blinking and swiping away more persistent tears, Adam nodded in agreement to their pa's, "Let's go home." He knew he would still wrestle with the issue, but he wasn't alone. His Pa was right; everything would be all right, because they would all work through it together, as a family, and Adam thanked God that they were still all alive and together. It made life worth living.