Alright, so everyone that knows who I am has probably seen that I haven't been updating in quite some time… this is why… I am working on the ninth chapter for this very fanfiction right now, so I'll be updating every week or so depending on how the other chapters are doing… yeah…
As always I don't own any of the original characters from the greatest movie ever, so here it is, my pride and joy….
The Kid and the Rattlesnake
Chapter 1: Return of the Rattlesnake
"It's midnight" Rango said aloud, his five foot eight inch form standing outside of the Sheriff's office, just a yard or so away from the single road that stretched from one side of Dirt to the other. The males face hidden because of the dark night, the full moon overhead covered by the tinted ruby red clouds. The Sheriff was clad in his usual outfit; tan, almost sand colored slacks covered his pale white legs with matching riding boots, complete with silver spurs. His off-white shirt had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his skin having become nicely tanned from his many months in the desert, and his common brown vest was accented by the ever-present badge. The badge everyone knew he had earned.
Though Rango still had his outsider looks, his cowboy hat covered the reminder that he wasn't actually one of the town's people. The semi-curly emerald green hair he had came to town with had grown just slightly longer then his shoulders, enough so that he would pull part of it into a low tail, the shorter strands forced down by the hat on his head. His green-golden eyes still held the same sense of belonging that Rango felt since he faced against the former Mayor almost a year ago.
"He's late" Rango spoke again, his eyes turning to one of the two females that were sitting on the wooden bench in front of the large window to the office, revealing the small amount of light coming from the old building. The single adult of the two wore a dusty looking blue dress with light brown riding boots; her shoulder length hair framed her face in light brown-red curls that matched the desert sand after a rare flash-flood. The female's dark brown eyes were very ordinary in the town, but to the Sheriff they were pools of chocolate he loved more than anything.
"Probably just ran inta somethin'." Beans said as she stood from her previous spot and walked gracefully over to Rango's side.
"Most likely," the Sheriff chuckled, taking Bean's hand in his, the two having gotten married three months after the water had returned to Dirt. "What do ya think Priscilla?" The young girl looked up from her book, her short three foot seven inch figure more than an entire foot shorter then Beans, but like always she was wearing her school uniform, the short skirt hitting her knees matched her polo-shirt, both pieces of clothing catching the small amount of light from the stars because of their light grey color. Her school shoes matched her raven black hair which hung in two braids down her back, but despite her young age of eight, her golden-brown eyes gave off a very mature aura.
"P'haps he's not gonna show." The little female said, looking up at her Sheriff and guardian, the little girl's mother only coming to Dirt for her daughter's birthday, usually needing to do work across the highway. Many of the people in town said that the young girl looked only a tiny bit like her mother, and no one knew who the females father was, not ever Priscilla herself.
"I doubt that Priscilla" Beans said, "He gave Rango 'is word, 'e won't go back on it," the lady continued, looking at her husband as though she was telling him that more than the girl. The three remained silent for some time before the clouds moved away from the silvery moon, lighting the sand of the desert and metal of Rango's revolver in a blue-white glow, its rays lighting the path for a previously unseen rider.
"There 'e is." The Sheriff whispered, his right hand immediately moving to the gun on his belt out of habit as the horse took its first steps into town. Anyone who would have seen the man in that moment would have known to hide or run in the opposite direction, his entire being screamed dangerous. His black boots complete with glistening spurs, were just like his slacks. The belt that sat low on his hips held a single Cavalry M1873 revolver that the man never used, and his blood-red shirt was unbuttoned most of the way down revealing a muscular, tan chest and darker brown scales that resembled that of his namesake. Bullet-belts covered most of his lower torso and right shoulder, the ratty coloring matching the color of the sand on a hot summer day.
However there was one thing about him, even from a distance, that made the people of the town cower in fear, it wasn't the wavy dark brown hair that was just as untamable as the man himself, nor the midnight black hat that hid that scaled scar that ran down the middle of the males left eye. No, it was the blazing eyes that held a hellfire gaze, the dashing colors of purest gold and bloodiest of reds forever dancing around slit irises. The three Dirtonians remained quiet as the famous outlaw dismounted his horse, an old mare that he had since he was a young boy, yet she still worked just as hard, if not harder than she did back then.
"You came, brother." Rango half spoke, half chuckled the last word of his comment, his eyes catching the slight grin that hit the outlaws lips as he brushed his longer than average hair off his neck, his fingers grazing his most prized Gatling gun, which he had slung across his back. The silver weapon made to look more like a rifle then what any other Gatling gun in history, but everyone who had heard of the man's name knew that the weapon was better than any other model, and most likely the only of its kind.
"Yur still goin' on 'bout that?" the outlaw questioned, his deep voice able to send shivers down any woman's spine without trying, not that he did. The slight shuffle of tightening bandages around his wrists told Rango and Beans that the male had gotten into some trouble on his way into town, obviously covering any type of injury that he had received, and a small, but not unnoticeable limp plagued his right leg. Though Rango and Beans just chuckled at the males comment, both of them knowing better then to ask if he needed help because he would refuse anyway.
"It's good ta have ya back Jake."
"Heh," the outlaw snickered, his spurs making a soft clicking sound in the otherwise quiet night as Priscilla ran over to the man, immediately throwing her arms around the male in a hug as he lifted his star pupil into his arms, his eyes never leaving the other 'legend'. "S'good ta be back Rango."
…
Rango and Beans sat opposite of Jake at the small table in the Sheriff's office, the two locals drinking the town favorite of Cactus Juice while the outlaw stuck to his usual favored shots of whiskey, a cigarette in his right hand and a small grin on his lips as they talked, the 'Rattlesnake' not having been in the town since the Sheriff's wedding. Sure he did kind of 'crash it' so to speak, but no one openly complained. A small understanding having occurred somewhere after when Jake and Rango had faced off for the second time in front of the old – now deceased - Mayor. In payment for Rango saving his life, Jake had given his word not to take any lives while in town, unless necessary of course, but somewhere along that same line Priscilla had taken quite a shine to the outlaw, and he to her. Thus leading to the towns' largest controversy ever, Priscilla becoming Jake's first and, most likely, only pupil, the young girl freely learning everything he had to offer from his many years as an outlaw and hit-man.
The town itself had never truly gotten use to the idea that the famous killer wasn't actually going to hurt them, but some were rather fine with the idea. Wounded Bird and the bartender Buford especially, the deputy because, despite Jakes tendencies to want to shoot anything that moved out of instinct, he was a relatively calm person that got out of the way of the law enforcers whenever they were doing their jobs. Buford however loved having Jake hang around the bar, mostly because a single look from the hardened male would stop any bar fight mid-punch, and his abnormal liking of whisky and beer gave the bartender some extra variety in the usual schedule of Cactus Juice, Cactus Juice and more Cactus Juice.
Through the distractions Jake put out his cigarette as Priscilla entered the room, a little fact that absolutely no one spoke about when the outlaw was around. The brutal and bloody outlaw obviously had a soft spot for the young girl, her obsession with death and weapons having sparked Jake's interest the moment she had made herself known to him. And with a small smile on his lips, Jake kicked back a chair from the table so that the little girl could sit next to him, and so she did without a second thought, her legs slung over the edge of the chair as she looked at the Rattlesnake. Her golden-brown eyes easily catching the twinge of fatigued muscles, the darker than normal tone of skin under Jake's eyes, and the small coin sized bruise on the trigger-finger of the man's right hand.
"Thanks again fer helpin' Jake," Rango said, both he and the hit-man taking their hats off, the Sheriff's odd green colored locks falling neatly to each side of his face, while Jake's untamed, short hair flopped back into his eyes, the color matching that of a rattlesnakes scales exactly. Golden laced with ruby eyes rolled in annoyance as Jake gently blew his hair out of his face, a single strand returning back to its original spot just off center leaning into the left side of his nose. Priscilla snickering next to him as she watched Jake glare at the strand for a mere second before turning back to the Sheriff, an identical strand of black hair falling into her own face.
"Ya can stop thankin' meh Sheriff," Jake chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his shirt moving to reveal the scales along his chest and torso that made up a large snake coiling around Jake's entire midsection, the town's people knew of very few other places where Jake's skin had actually changed to scales besides the snake marking and the scar down his left eye, and nobody really wanted to ask if there were any other places anyway. All that people knew was that the scales appeared where Jake had previously been injured to a lethal degree, like when the old Mayor had sent a bullet through his leg or when the previous Sheriff had actually left a deep gash on his arm, the next time they saw the Rattlesnake the places were covered by sandy, diamond patterned scales.
"We're just thankful ya can help with fixin' de pipes." Beans said; her hand entwined with her husband's as the adults continued talking, but Priscilla was busy looking at a single small mark in Jakes snake 'tattoo'. The eye of the rattlesnake, conveniently located directly over the male heart, wasn't a lighter patch of scales as she had once though, but rather scar tissue from human skin, obviously it had never healed correctly or transferred into scales like the rest of the Rattlesnakes injuries had.
"Jake," her voice brought all of the adults attentions to her, but unlike any average kid her age who would shrink away, the young girl continued on with her sentence as if nothing had happened. "What's with the rattlesnake's eye?" Rango and Beans turned to the mark on Jake's chest in a second, their eyes catching what Pricilla had seen second earlier but Jake looked away from the others and out the large window a few feet to his right, no one able to see the sudden flash of pain that bolted faster than lightning through his sunset colored eyes just at the memory alone.
"T's a long story Priscilla." Jake said, turning his head back to look at the young female.
"Yur gonna be here fer a while," the female resorted, making the outlaw and the others chuckle at her adult-like attitude, the early morning sunrise just starting to light the sky, even though it would still be an hour or so before it would actually appear.
"You really wanna hear it, don't ya kid?" the Rattlesnake asked, downing another shot of whisky at the idea of telling his past to a young kid, but then again, Jake knew that it would probably do him some good to get his story out there. At a nod from Priscilla the outlaw sighed in mock defeat, "Alright, I'll tell ya," he paused, his right hand instinctively moving to his left wrist, rubbing a very old injury from long before he was known as Rattlesnake Jake, "But not tonight kiddo. Ih gotta deal with a pissed off town tomorrow."