Disclaimer: Cold Mountain belongs to Charles Frazier; the movie to Miramax Films, and surely several other people.
A/N: All right, I'm sure I've butchered his accent, but I just don't know exactly what to do with a Northerner down there. So! If you'd like to help me out, well, thanks. And if not, please be kind. :o)
Just the Same
--Take off your boots. Take off your pants, take off your shirt…
I know you, sir.
I know where you've been – same place as me, no doubt. You're tired. No, not tired…you'd get tired from any old thing…what did you do? Workin' metal, maybe, or wood. Or plowing fields. That's enough to make you tired. Make me tired. Make any one'a us tired, I reckon.
--Don't shoot me, please!
Naw, this ain't tired.
--We're starving…we haven't eaten in days….
This here's something else; I can't name it, but I know it's in you. On you. Big an' burdensome – aw, I don't need words. I know you know exactly, and that's all that matters.
--Come on!
--We're starving…we haven't eaten in days….
I know what you've done. There's once-live proof just yonder, anyone can see that, that ain't the half of it, I know. Any man just done his first killing ain't got the nerve to stand there like you is an' speak. There's nothing in this world worse than what you just did, than killing another human being, you know? You know. Your eye's a'twitching; you know.
--COME ON!
That man there? He had a sweetheart. Th' name's Darla. She had their wedding day all planned out, he told me, with pretty flowers and ribbons and candles in the chapel. But he didn't reckon she was his no more, by now. He sure ain't hers no more, that's for certain. My sweet Violet had her hands full with our little one. Was just a baby when I left, a baby girl.
--Thanks. Thank you.
You got someone at home, that goes without saying. I know what you want – I know all you want. This ain't it – naw, you're still going someplace, I know. Just keep on staring at me and eventually I'd tell you her name, the color of her eyes, the…the shape of her neck; it's all in your mind right now. Right there with that hint of compassion I see, behind the daggers flying from your eyes…
--Now you git runnin'.
--I will!
--An' keep runnin'.
--Thank you…
…An' maybe that's why you ain't pulled that there trigger: you know me, too. You know where I've been, and you know what I've done, and you know all I want. You know we ain't so different, much as they try an' make us believe. We're just the same. I know you know we're just the s—