Spoiler alert for season 6, episodes 7 and 8

Author's note: This is a one-shot from the perspective of the late Ty Walker in the moments before his death. I know that he was one of the "bad guys" but especially during episode number 7, I started to feel some sympathy for him. Not always of course...but I found his end and his situation pretty sad and felt that I had to get this off my chest. I'm not too sure if it's in-character but I gave it my best, trying to get in the man's head. Since there's not really much going one here in the Justified section during this last season of the show, I figured I could share this crazy result of my brooding over the man with you guys. It's kinda funny how Ty Walker wasn't even in the list of characters to chose from in the uploading-process...it kinda reflects his loneliness in the series.

The Title is inspired by Jamie N Common's song "The Preacher" which was the soundtrack to Walker extracting the bullet from his shoulder in episode 7.

I hope you like it and don't think I'm totally crazy for siding with him in a way ;-) Comments are very much appreciated. And as always I want to mention, that I am not a native speaker of the English language but hope that it doesn't show too much.

He instantly knew that those shots would be fatal. His heart skipped a beat and the next breath got stuck somewhere between lung and throat when Ty Walker crashed flat on the ground.

"Bullshit! You shot me in the back!" he managed to call out. It was not how this was supposed to be done. It was an embarrassing end without dignity.

"If you wanted to get shot in the front you should've run toward me." was the wise guy's answer. Hilarious.

Ty knew that the Marshall's two bullets had pierced at least one vital organ. It would be over soon. Despite the agonizing pain, Ty felt a strange kind of deep relief. All the things he'd never wanted to admit to himself now flooded his brain in the same pace the blood was leaving his body.

What the hell had he been doing the last years? He always divided his life in three sections: Before the army, army, and the time after service. In this moment he seriously doubted that the last one had even ever existed. When he'd returned from Afghanistan together with his unit, his friends Seabass and the still recovering Choo-Choo, nothing had really changed that much. He'd still been their leader and they'd still been fighting. But what for? It used to be their country and Freedom but back home it wasn't the same any longer and didn't feel like life before service either. They had returned as trained killers, trying hard not to waste too many thoughts on all the things they'd done back there.

10 years. 10 years changed a man. He had never learned anything else than to give and follow commands. Kill to survive. Tiger Hawk Security had made sense at the time. A way of keeping them together as a unit and do what they're good at. What they got in exchange was money, not blood or useless medals. Rather safe and comfortable lives instead of dusty firing pits and detached body-parts. Ty had never been too sure about Avery Markham's intentions but then again he had never cared too much. The man had kept the paychecks coming steadily and Ty had somehow enjoyed the power and freedom he'd been granted. Finally a way to play out his other skills in persuasion and cold conduct of negotiations.

It had all changed on the day Choo-Choo had killed that foolish realtor. Shit had started to go south from that day on. Ty knew that he should've quit in the moment, Markham had ordered him to kill poor Choo-Choo. He was still not sure if he would've managed to pull the trigger that day on the glade in the forest. He'd been spared that decision by the the Marshals. But Ty would never forget the look in Choo-Choo's eyes when he'd been hit by the realization that his friend had been sent to kill him.

Right then and there Ty had wanted nothing more than to freeze time and get his boys out of that mess. Out of Kentucky, away from Markham, somewhere far away. Hell, he would've even taken them back to Afghanistan. Some place where he knew exactly what actions had to be taken and which causes were worth dying or killing for.

Survival instincts had kicked in when he'd gotten shot. He'd escaped and tried to send Markham on the wrong track. He'd known that Markham would gladly sacrifice him if the other option was risking to let Ty fall in the hands of the law.

Laying with his face down in the dirt of Ava Crowder's backyard, he realized that he barely remembered what happened that night. The filthy restroom, the extraction, the deal with those college-boys...it was all clouded by pain .The bullet-proof vest he'd given the boys to deliver it to some made-up address just to throw off the cops. Ty would have laughed if it hadn't been for the pain and the blood creeping up his throat. That vest could have saved his life today.

The irony was almost too much to take for the dying man. His thoughts drifted off again. At the edges of his consciousness, he could hear distant footsteps approaching him.

Back when the fucking car had broken down in the middle of nowhere. That was a scene, he remembered very clearly. The frustration, the pain and that almost unbearable feeling of solitude. He'd suddenly been aware that nobody gave a shit about him. No one. Not even Seabass. Ty remembered that the phrase "What am I doing here?" had haunted him in the moment he pressed his gun against the hood of the car, led by rage and desperation. Dream-like he had taken the gun and sat down on a nearby rock with it. He had raised it to his head – almost.

It could have been over on that day on that rock in the middle of nowhere. With the only options for his life being either getting killed my Markham, killed by the law or imprisoned. And then with the gun almost at his temple, finger feeling numb on the trigger, he had thought of the plan involving Boyd Crowder. A fourth option had suddenly presented itself: Fleeing with a high amount of money and making Markham pay for selling him out in the process. That possibility had triggered his survival instincts again. The call to 911, the compromised paramedics. He had killed them without a second thought. Once survival instinct kicked in, killing people became a mere routine. Killing the unarmed men hadn't been necessary, strictly speaking but he had just not cared. Killing was quick and not complicated.

Back then he'd still had hope. Now in his last moments, Ty realized that he should've known that his life had already lost all meaning and purpose before he'd come to hide in Ava Crowder's house. He should've known better than to put trust in Crowder. He was usually smarter than that.

Hope. There's something about the human brain and instincts that make you go on, find a way out at all costs. He now realized how silly he'd acted. Running from the Marshals like a fucking coward. He'd never run before. Ty asked himself what kind of a man he'd become.

An intense wave of pain rushed through his body and made him cringe. A low growl escaped his throat. He'd never been a religious man, instead he suddenly thought of his parents. He should've visited them more since he'd been back. And Anna who'd kept writing him letters in his first years of service...even after his heart had turned to stone and he hadn't bothered to answer any more…

Ty hoped that he'd been a good man at some point...at least in the first 20 years of his life. He was surprised to suddenly see a pair of boots right next to his face. Givens had approached him quickly and almost without a sound. Breathing was difficult now but the pain seemed to fade a bit.

"All for what? Money?" the man asked him.

"No..." Ty gasped. "No...no, not just for money." he wanted the Marshal to understand but it rather sounded like he just refused to accept the truth. Was attempting to justify his behavior. But was it the truth? Ty wasn't sure any longer. He felt the other man's despise and disgust as his heart slowly made it's last beat. He'd been living on borrowed time anyways.