Title: The Wild Wild West's Ghosts
Rating: pg13
Disclaimer: I don't own Wild Wild West. Please don't sue or anything, I have little value or possessions. And you wouldn't want the Cat I do have, he'll tell no tales and he'll eat all your ice cream.
Author's note: Warning death fic of major characters, but if they stay that way is up to you. If I give anymore away I'll spoil the plot. Hope you like my story. Reviews are appreciated, flammage is expected so be amusing when you flame. Thanks.
The Night of the Wild Wild West's Ghosts
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim carried the body with infinite care, the tears blurring his vision as they streamed down his face.
Jim knew that he was nearing where he had hidden the horses and continued even though it felt like his heart was shattering and his body was going numb.
The body in his arms was cold, but not yet stiff, and seemed if the person only slept deeply. But Jim knew of the blood staining the clothes hidden by the blanket, how the chocolate eyes had been wide with fear when he had found him.
"Artie . . ." his mind whispered and his hold tightened on the body in his arms, the dead body of his partner Artemus Gordon.
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!" was chanted through the air in a low keening voice, one he barely recognized as his own. 'Artie's dead! Artie's dead!' chanted through his mind as he staggered over to the two stolen horses.
Carefully he covered his best friend's face with the blanket and laid the body over the back of the horse. Then he swung onto the other horse's back, grabbed the reins, and then reached back and grabbed the other horse's reins; before starting back towards the train.
Behind him, in the moonlight, a town from the past burned once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim stroked the handle of the gun, caressing it like one would a lover. Perhaps to him it was in a way, and his hands moved softly over the inscription on one side of the grip; 'To Artemus Gordon, the best partner ever. Your partner, Jim.'
Jim had given Artemus the gun on his last birthday, and knew no matter the costume or part he was playing that Artie always had it somewhere on him.
Jim also knew he would have never parted with it without a fight, and a very, very extensive search.
He had found the gun lying three feet away from Artie's body, next to a pile of wicked "toys" one would find in a bordello, empty of bullets and covered in blood and . . . and . . .
Jim put his face in his hands, the tears flowing once more. Lextriss had known about his past, and had used that info against him.
His partner had been shot, stabbed, whipped , and . . .
Lextriss had somehow known or found out about how his sisters and mother had died. How they'd been raped and slaughtered in the little town of Hope Haven during the war. How he had come through with his regiment to find the entire town dead and the buildings slowly burning to the ground. How he had found the bodies and had picked up each one of sisters and his mother up in turn and had rocked their lifeless bodies in his arms. How he had buried them on the outskirts of town, and how his regiment had buried the rest of the townsfolk as well. Leaving what was once a prosperous town; a lonely old graveyard. How he had left a huge piece of his soul in that lonely graveyard as well.
Now he had lost the rest of his soul.
Lextriss had rebuilt the town perfectly, exact replicas right down to the home his mothers and sisters had lived and died in. That was where he had found Artemus. His partner had been sprawled on the floor in the living room area where he had found his family dead. Artie had been spread eagle with his clothing ripped and bloodied, his wrists bound, and his legs spread wide.
His face had been set in a mask of fear and pain, with his jaw clenched and the eyes wide with fright and unshed tears. His dark sable hair had been streaked with blood, tinting the almost auburn streaks redder.
A message of unmistakable red liquid had been written on the wall.
The taunt had been simple enough to solve, and Jim knew where to find him now. Once he found him, he would carry out the black rage coiled in his heart and hope it was enough to fill his thirst for revenge in the end. Maybe then he would find some semblance of peace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim held the urn with deliberate care, his hazel eyes devouring the familiar writing on the letter in his other hand. Artie had left a personal letter to him, along with his will, in which he had enclosed his heart-felt expressions of hope that Jim would continue on and not blame himself.
Jim's eyes softened as he read the letter, losing the look of stone he had adopted for the last few weeks since his partner had died. Silently he wished he could do as Artie's letter, but knew he couldn't in his heart.
He had already begun to go against them when he had killed Lextriss in cold blood. He had already stopped his life by being suspended from the Secret Service pending an investigation, which he knew would find him guilty of murder. Murder of an unarmed man, murder that had been long and slow and torturous and unneeded.
He tucked the letter into the inside pocket of his jacket, so it would be close to his heart.
Quietly he headed out onto the balcony, the urn tucked into his arm. The train was speeding out West towards a little town called Green Glens. It was a town started by a group of Irish refugees who were rowdy and noisy, but also kind. They had once, kindly helped Artemus and him when they had gotten hurt on an assignment. It was there, on the outskirts of town where a canyon was, that Jim was to scatter Artie's ashes.
Artie had asked for him to carry out his wishes, and Jim planned to carry out his final wish as well as carry out his own final wish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim calmly lifted the engineer out of the cab and put him on Charger. He then lifted the fireman and put him on Lady. Standing back he slapped the flanks of the horses and sent them on their way. They should reach the town a few hours after dusk, or the two men would wake first. Either way they would be fine and would reach town for help. The things he wanted done would be carried out, and all the documents and inventions in the saddlebags would be used.
As he walked over to the cliff's edge, he pulled the tightly sealed urn out of a bag and opened it. He slipped his fingers into the ash with reverence, aching because of how much he missed Artie, and then carefully scattered the ashes to the wind. Slowly, but surely he scattered all of Artie's ashes to the wind.
The tears flowed freely as he emptied the urn and tossed it into the canyon, then turned and trudged miserably back to the engine. As he climbed back into the engine's cab, he felt a sense of calm settle over him, and began to stoke up the train's engine with wood.
Jim calmly released the brake and started the train, but instead of switching over to the other track that circled around, he kept going on the track that led towards the end of the cliff. The train continued on the remaining track, picking up enough speed to keep going as the track ended then sailing over the edge.
Inside the engine cab, Jim softly whispered "See you soon Artie."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: Well, here's the first chapter, and it's definitely not the end. The next chapter will be coming soon. Let me know what you think, Thanks.
Rating: pg13
Disclaimer: I don't own Wild Wild West. Please don't sue or anything, I have little value or possessions. And you wouldn't want the Cat I do have, he'll tell no tales and he'll eat all your ice cream.
Author's note: Warning death fic of major characters, but if they stay that way is up to you. If I give anymore away I'll spoil the plot. Hope you like my story. Reviews are appreciated, flammage is expected so be amusing when you flame. Thanks.
The Night of the Wild Wild West's Ghosts
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim carried the body with infinite care, the tears blurring his vision as they streamed down his face.
Jim knew that he was nearing where he had hidden the horses and continued even though it felt like his heart was shattering and his body was going numb.
The body in his arms was cold, but not yet stiff, and seemed if the person only slept deeply. But Jim knew of the blood staining the clothes hidden by the blanket, how the chocolate eyes had been wide with fear when he had found him.
"Artie . . ." his mind whispered and his hold tightened on the body in his arms, the dead body of his partner Artemus Gordon.
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!" was chanted through the air in a low keening voice, one he barely recognized as his own. 'Artie's dead! Artie's dead!' chanted through his mind as he staggered over to the two stolen horses.
Carefully he covered his best friend's face with the blanket and laid the body over the back of the horse. Then he swung onto the other horse's back, grabbed the reins, and then reached back and grabbed the other horse's reins; before starting back towards the train.
Behind him, in the moonlight, a town from the past burned once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim stroked the handle of the gun, caressing it like one would a lover. Perhaps to him it was in a way, and his hands moved softly over the inscription on one side of the grip; 'To Artemus Gordon, the best partner ever. Your partner, Jim.'
Jim had given Artemus the gun on his last birthday, and knew no matter the costume or part he was playing that Artie always had it somewhere on him.
Jim also knew he would have never parted with it without a fight, and a very, very extensive search.
He had found the gun lying three feet away from Artie's body, next to a pile of wicked "toys" one would find in a bordello, empty of bullets and covered in blood and . . . and . . .
Jim put his face in his hands, the tears flowing once more. Lextriss had known about his past, and had used that info against him.
His partner had been shot, stabbed, whipped , and . . .
Lextriss had somehow known or found out about how his sisters and mother had died. How they'd been raped and slaughtered in the little town of Hope Haven during the war. How he had come through with his regiment to find the entire town dead and the buildings slowly burning to the ground. How he had found the bodies and had picked up each one of sisters and his mother up in turn and had rocked their lifeless bodies in his arms. How he had buried them on the outskirts of town, and how his regiment had buried the rest of the townsfolk as well. Leaving what was once a prosperous town; a lonely old graveyard. How he had left a huge piece of his soul in that lonely graveyard as well.
Now he had lost the rest of his soul.
Lextriss had rebuilt the town perfectly, exact replicas right down to the home his mothers and sisters had lived and died in. That was where he had found Artemus. His partner had been sprawled on the floor in the living room area where he had found his family dead. Artie had been spread eagle with his clothing ripped and bloodied, his wrists bound, and his legs spread wide.
His face had been set in a mask of fear and pain, with his jaw clenched and the eyes wide with fright and unshed tears. His dark sable hair had been streaked with blood, tinting the almost auburn streaks redder.
A message of unmistakable red liquid had been written on the wall.
The taunt had been simple enough to solve, and Jim knew where to find him now. Once he found him, he would carry out the black rage coiled in his heart and hope it was enough to fill his thirst for revenge in the end. Maybe then he would find some semblance of peace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim held the urn with deliberate care, his hazel eyes devouring the familiar writing on the letter in his other hand. Artie had left a personal letter to him, along with his will, in which he had enclosed his heart-felt expressions of hope that Jim would continue on and not blame himself.
Jim's eyes softened as he read the letter, losing the look of stone he had adopted for the last few weeks since his partner had died. Silently he wished he could do as Artie's letter, but knew he couldn't in his heart.
He had already begun to go against them when he had killed Lextriss in cold blood. He had already stopped his life by being suspended from the Secret Service pending an investigation, which he knew would find him guilty of murder. Murder of an unarmed man, murder that had been long and slow and torturous and unneeded.
He tucked the letter into the inside pocket of his jacket, so it would be close to his heart.
Quietly he headed out onto the balcony, the urn tucked into his arm. The train was speeding out West towards a little town called Green Glens. It was a town started by a group of Irish refugees who were rowdy and noisy, but also kind. They had once, kindly helped Artemus and him when they had gotten hurt on an assignment. It was there, on the outskirts of town where a canyon was, that Jim was to scatter Artie's ashes.
Artie had asked for him to carry out his wishes, and Jim planned to carry out his final wish as well as carry out his own final wish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim calmly lifted the engineer out of the cab and put him on Charger. He then lifted the fireman and put him on Lady. Standing back he slapped the flanks of the horses and sent them on their way. They should reach the town a few hours after dusk, or the two men would wake first. Either way they would be fine and would reach town for help. The things he wanted done would be carried out, and all the documents and inventions in the saddlebags would be used.
As he walked over to the cliff's edge, he pulled the tightly sealed urn out of a bag and opened it. He slipped his fingers into the ash with reverence, aching because of how much he missed Artie, and then carefully scattered the ashes to the wind. Slowly, but surely he scattered all of Artie's ashes to the wind.
The tears flowed freely as he emptied the urn and tossed it into the canyon, then turned and trudged miserably back to the engine. As he climbed back into the engine's cab, he felt a sense of calm settle over him, and began to stoke up the train's engine with wood.
Jim calmly released the brake and started the train, but instead of switching over to the other track that circled around, he kept going on the track that led towards the end of the cliff. The train continued on the remaining track, picking up enough speed to keep going as the track ended then sailing over the edge.
Inside the engine cab, Jim softly whispered "See you soon Artie."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: Well, here's the first chapter, and it's definitely not the end. The next chapter will be coming soon. Let me know what you think, Thanks.