Phenomenal One

As always, a huge thank you to Kiss316 for being an awesome beta reader.

Warnings: Swearing.

The Parting

About a day after he initially regained consciousness, AJ's fever was down. For this first time in over a week he woke up feeling hungry. Per Mark's request, Randy had gone hunting and had come back with a several rabbits, with which he set about making into a stew. AJ was happy he was able to sit up and eat without assistance, even if he had to have his back propped against the trunk of a cottonwood tree. The meal was surprisingly tasty; having been seasoned with some dried herbs provided by Mark, and it went a long way to helping AJ regain some of his strength and good humor. Finding someone who could cook decently in the wild was rare, as AJ knew from years of experience. So with complete sincerity AJ complimented Randy on his cooking skills, the way his mother had taught him. Randy actually smiled and that started a conversation between the two centering on the choices of seasonings for various fish and game and gradually moving on to comparing the awfulness of army rations, on which they were in total agreement. So soon they laughing at each others horror stories of the 'food' they had eaten in the past. Pleased, Mark watched them find some common ground in the mundane. Their earlier conflict wasn't forgotten but they called an unspoken truce during the meal.

But it couldn't last long.

"So, what are your plans?" AJ asked, looking from Mark to Randy and back, brushing his hair out of his face. He was using a borrowed needle and thread to mend his cut-up shirt. AJ always had held to the philosophy that it was better to be doing something productive than sitting around doing nothing. He was tired of lying around in his underwear in the presence of two men who were much, much bigger than he was. Both of those elements combined to make AJ feel vulnerable and he hated that. But he covered it like he always did, with his cocky attitude.

"We're heading out tomorrow," Mark said, giving Randy a look. At the unspoken request, Randy nodded and went to check on the horses. AJ's mistrust of Randy was still there despite their friendly conversation. They both knew Mark could better handle a stubborn AJ alone than with Randy present. Mark never lost his temper but he could be as intimidating as hell when he wanted to be.

AJ watched Randy leave and then turned back to Mark. He guessed Randy's leaving meant there was going to be an unpleasant conversation between Mark and himself. Nevertheless, the years of leading Bullet Club and its psychotic members had taught him never to show weakness. "Well, I guess this will be good bye. I want to say thank you again for saving me and someday I will repay you," he said, hoping Mark would take the hint. Although AJ was grateful they had saved him, he had no intention of going with them. He had vengeance to pursue, not demons.

Mark saw right through AJ's facade. He knew he was intimidating, had even used that to his advantage in the past. But right now he didn't want AJ to be scared of him. Rather, he wanted AJ to trust him. Randy, Roman and Dean, arguably the least trusting people in the world, all trusted him implicitly. But even though he had saved AJ's life, the southern outlaw was still watching him as warily as a wounded falcon, which was a new experience for Mark. AJ's trust had been destroyed by Bullet Club's betrayal. It would take time to rebuild, too much time Mark feared, but he had to try. He knew the best place to start was to be completely honest with AJ all the time, every time. "It would be best if you stayed with us," Mark told him. He knew the Saint wanted AJ to hunt the Skinwalker, but Mark felt that Randy needed AJ more at that point in time. However, Mark wasn't going to force AJ into doing something he didn't want to.

"Its very kind of you to invite me, but I believe I must decline. I have some business that cannot wait," AJ said firmly. The pain in his stomach and ribs had subsided since yesterday but tensing up caused it to flare and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to relax. He met Mark's eyes as steadily as he could.

But Mark asked AJ the question AJ didn't have a good answer to, yet. "What is your plan? You have no friends, no horse, no guns, not even extra clothes. Are you going to hang out here or walk to back to the nearest town, which is quite a few miles away? And you just happened to rob their bank. They might still be upset with you."

"As opposed to going with you to god knows where to kill demons? Fuck that, I'll take my chances out in the wild," AJ said firmly.

"What about the Saint of Killers?" Mark asked.

"What about him?" AJ wanted to know.

"You made the agreement with him. There is no going back. When he wants you to do a job, you will do it." Mark wasn't going to coddle the former leader of Bullet Club.

"And when the Saint of Killers wants me to do something, I will. But I don't see him here," AJ argued.

Right then Mark decided that this was the Saint's problem to deal with. He himself had Randy and his issues. He nodded. "Fine. I'll tell you what; we'll take you as far as Bannack." he offered knowing full well that was where the Saint wanted AJ to be.

Eyes narrowed, AJ looked for the trap, but not having access to the Saint's plans, he couldn't see it. Reluctantly he nodded. "Okay. I would appreciate that. By why there?"

"It's near enough to drop you off without us going too far out of our way." Mark told him, deliberately vague. He had planned to go meet up with the others up by Helena. The Saint's news of the Skinwalker hunting Randy had Mark worried. Hopefully, Reigns and Ambrose would have the Ascension sorted out by the time they joined them. Meanwhile, AJ would be on his own, except for the Saint of Killers, who would probably hover over AJ like a terrifying guardian angel.

AJ went back to concentrating on his stitching, something he had learned to do while in the army. He wanted to be completely dressed before setting out. He didn't think his mending would hold up for a long stretch on the trail, but if they were willing to take him to a town, he would have the chance to pick up new clothes. And get a horse. "Never been a fan of Bannack, it's a dying town. Most of the easy gold is gone and most the politicians left a long ago for Helena," AJ said. "The last time Bullet Club went through Bannack, we didn't even bother to rob the bank." Instead, they had hung out the local watering hole and made pests of themselves, especially Kenny and the kids. The sheriff, who had been elected mostly because he had bribed enough people, had left them alone despite the town's No Gun policy. Still, AJ did manage to ditch the Club for a few minutes and make a deposit at the bank, insurance for an uncertain future. Allen Jones had quite a few deposits in several different banks across the Montana and Idaho territories. That was something he had been doing in some of the towns they had passed through since Kenny had joined the Club. AJ had meant to tell Doc and Karl about it, but Kenny had made his move too soon.

And Doc and Karl had stabbed him in the back.

After making another stitch, AJ put the needle and thread down and gave Mark a hard look through his hair. "Look, I'm sure you and Randy are real good guys, and don't get me wrong I am truly grateful to both of you for saving my life. Someday I will make it up to you. But for now I have different priorities."

"That's fine," Mark said. He knew the Saint wouldn't allow AJ to run after Bullet Club, not with the Skinwalker in the area. But it was up to the Saint of Killers to decide how he was going to get AJ on board.

Suspicious that Mark had gave in so easily, but not quite daring to ask what the older man was thinking, AJ went back to his stitching and eventually Randy returned to the campsite. They didn't talk the rest of the evening. Refusing to ask for help, AJ struggled to put on his mended shirt and pants. He was trembling with weakness and covered in sweat by the time he got dressed but feeling less vulnerable. Then he lay down and went to sleep. Randy and Mark exchanged looks.

"What was that all about?" Randy asked. He was enjoying seeing Mark just slightly discomfited by AJ. It wasn't something he saw very often. And as much as he trusted and respected the doctor, it had been a relief to have Mark's attention on someone else for a while.

"Your old man wants him on his feet and hunting that Skinwalker as soon as possible," Mark said soberly.

"Seriously? The guy can barely stand," Randy protested. Even though he and AJ didn't see eye to eye, he automatically came to AJ's defense against his father.

"He'll heal quickly. With an ego that big, he won't stay down long." Mark was pleased to see Randy's protective side coming out once again and bringing him out of his shell. A wry smile curled across Mark's lips. "Reminds me of you in a way," he said.

Raising an eyebrow, Randy disagreed. "I don't see it," he said.

"Cocky, arrogant, argumentative and stubborn?" Mark said a bit sarcastically.

"I'm not as bad as that, am I?" Randy protested.

"Worse," Mark said, grinning to take any sting from his words.

Dawn was breaking over the rocky ridge as Randy dumped handfuls of wet sand over the embers of their campfire. They had finished their coffee and both Mark and Randy wanted an early start. When the camp was packed up and the horses saddled, Mark helped AJ get to his feet. "Thanks," AJ said as he swayed a bit but didn't fall over. He looked up at Mark and, good god that man was tall, grinned his cocksure grin just to let the man know that he wasn't intimidated. Not fooled for an instant, Mark just pointed over to where the horses were tied up.

AJ knew as soon as he laid eyes on that sullen gray nag Randy and Mark were using as a pack horse, he would never, ever swing a leg over its back without a saddle. The horse's spine jutted up out of its back like a razor blade and AJ didn't even try to imagine what sitting on that would do to his private parts. "I'll walk," he told Randy, whom he just now realized how tall the man was standing next to him. For Christ 's sake, why was everyone in the world so much taller than him?

Randy smirked at him but it was laced with sympathy. "You can ride with one of us," he told the former leader of Bullet Club. But when AJ took a look at Mark's pale mare, he came to the same conclusion. Not because she had a spine like the gray's, but there was something about that mare that put AJ's hackles up. She looked like a placid, ordinary animal but somehow he knew that mare wasn't to be trusted to just be a horse. In the end, he did allow himself to be boosted up on the back of Randy's big roan, which could easily pack double. He sat behind Randy's saddle, balancing easily with years of living on the back of a horse. Both Randy and Mark appeared to be relieved to be on the move again. They kept the horses to a walk and talked about inconsequential things. Away from the river, the landscape was barren. There were a few tall hills covered in sage brush and dead grass. A great mountain range jutted up far to the east, the highest peaks still covered in snow. The late July heat had settled in and only the hot dry wind provided any sort of relief. AJ tried to ignore the constant throbbing in his ribs and stomach, made worse by the motion of the horse underneath him and the relentless sun. For a while he was able to, but as the day wore on and the heat increased, the pain grew worse. He didn't realize he was leaning his forehead against Randy's back between his shoulder blades, unconsciously trying to curl in around the pain until Randy pulled the horse to a stop. "You doing okay?" he asked turning around to look at AJ.

"I'm fine," AJ assured him, sitting up and attempting to smile. He didn't fool anyone. His face was pale and he was sweating.

"Bullshit," Randy said with a bit of impatience. Next to them Mark smirked. Randy was getting a taste of his own medicine. Now understanding that Mark had been right in his assessment of their similarities, Randy never had enough patience to deal with someone who refused to admit they were in pain, even when it was obvious. "Let's stop for a while," he told Mark who was already dismounting.

Randy swung his leg over the roan's neck and slid off the saddle, landing easily in the dry prairie grass. He offered a hand up but AJ, determined not to look weak in front of the others ignored it and jumped off the roan's back, landing hard and his legs immediately buckled. Moving incredibly fast, Randy caught him before he could sprawl face down in the grass. For several seconds Randy held him, waiting patiently for AJ to get his legs and balance sorted out.

"Thanks," AJ said. That hadn't been his smartest maneuver, and luckily, Randy had spared him the indignity of eating dirt in front of the two men who had gone out of their way to save his life. Later, when he thought back on it, he realized this was the second time Randy had held him in his arms. He had been too out of it the first time, but this time AJ was fully conscious and could not believe how strong Randy was. Up until then he had thought Doc Gallows was the strongest person he had ever met. But Randy held his full weight with no apparent effort.

"Next time say something before you pass out," Randy told him as he let AJ go and stepped back. It was the first time he had voluntarily held another human being since Punk had left. And yet, with AJ it didn't feel strange.

Watching their interaction with subtle interest, Mark unhooked his canteen and added some herbs to the water from his saddlebag. He shook it to mix it up a bit, then handed it to AJ and told him to drink it. With both men looming over him, AJ drank without arguing. He was surprised by the pleasant taste and immediately felt better. After drinking half the canteen, he handed it back to Mark with a nod of thanks.

They walked slowly for a while. The dead grass crunched underfoot and grasshoppers jumped away. Once AJ felt stronger, Randy boosted him up onto the roan's back with ease. They made better time on horseback but it was still late in the afternoon when they saw smoke and steam rising from the town in the distance. "Here is where we leave you," Mark said, pulling the mare to a halt. This was news to both Randy and AJ.

Randy reined the roan and turned it so he could look inquiringly at Mark. The abrupt movement caused AJ to grab Randy's waist to maintain his balance.

"We're leaving him out here alone?" Randy asked. Even though he didn't know how he felt about AJ, the man still looked pale and injured. It didn't seem right.

"He needs a horse and supplies, which he can get in Bannack," Mark said as he fished out his wallet and counted out some bank notes. He handed them to AJ along with the canteen of water. AJ, with Randy's help, slid off the roan with more grace than the last time. "He'll catch up to us when he's ready."

Randy shot Mark a puzzled look, but didn't question him, yet.

"Well, thank you once again for the rescue," AJ said, not unhappy about getting dropped off, but was surprised that they were dropping him off so far outside of town. He reached up to offer his hand to Randy, who took it. "I'll pay you back, I promise." And AJ meant it. Randy had braved the river to save him.

"Watch your back," Randy told him. While he had been dreading going into a town surrounded by deep mines, he didn't like leaving AJ alone either. He would make Mark explain himself when they got out of earshot. They turned the horses to go wide around the town and set out at a jog, leaving AJ standing on the prairie alone. Randy spurred the roan lope so he could ride abreast of Mark. "Okay, what's going on?" he asked.

"The Skinwalker has shown up around here recently. We need to move," Mark told him, looking straight ahead. "The boy is close enough to town he can make it without passing out."

"And we're just leaving him to face the Skinwalker alone without any back-up?" Randy was concerned. This was not the way he had done things in the past.

"Not alone. Your old man will be there to watch over him." Mark looked straight ahead. The sun was sinking towards the west but Mark figured they should be able to make some miles before dark.

By now, Randy knew something was up. Mark was always honest, but not always forthcoming with information. He glared at Mark, who was unaffected. "What else?" he asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

Heaving a sigh and bracing himself, Mark told Randy, "It knows about Benoit's marks."

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over Randy's head. His mouth went dry and he started shaking. He clenched his fists hard and took a deep breath. The roan held steady in its pace but Randy had stopped guiding it. All he could think of was the Beast's teeth sinking into the back of his neck, and its weight on top of him. And then then Beast was inside of him and he had been helpless to stop it. Luckily he hadn't eaten in several hours but he still felt nauseous.

Glancing over at the Legend Killer, Mark could see the horror Randy was trying to hide. He offered the only reassurance he could think of. "Don't panic. It doesn't know which of you carries the marks."

For a brief minute, Randy was relieved, but then Mark's words truly sank in and a hot rush of anger overtook the cold fear. "So that's it? AJ is to be bait for the Skinwalker?" He turned around in the saddle but AJ was out of sight. If the Skinwalker thought it was AJ with the marks, it would do to the former leader of the Bullet Club what the Beast had done to him down in that mine. And the thought of AJ's broken, violated body made him sick. He swore and pulled the roan to a halt. "Fuck that. I 'm not letting that happen to him."

Mark pulled the mare to a halt and pivoted her around to face Randy. "The old man will be with him. That boy has a better chance alone than with you hanging around. With you there, your old man will be focused on you, not AJ. He's strong and if you go back, you'll be putting him in even more danger, as well as yourself," he said sternly. He willed Randy to understand. "After what happened to you, your old man will not let anything like that happen ever again. He will do anything protect you, even if it means sacrificing another."

"I don't want that!" Randy shouted at Mark, who interrupted him, completed unfazed at Randy's rage.

"It doesn't matter what you want. He will protect you at all costs. And the best thing you can do right now is to let him. If he thinks that boy is the best chance to kill the Skinwalker, then he will use him. Don't interfere with his plans. Because if you do, AJ Styles will die like you did. And there will be no one to bring him back."

Swearing in frustration, Randy knew Mark was right. He hated it, but couldn't argue. Reluctantly he nodded to Mark, then touched his spurs to the roan's sides urging it back into a slow jog. Mark's pale mare fell in beside them. They didn't speak anymore but Randy's thoughts were back in Bannack, where AJ was walking unknowingly into a devil's den. For the first time since the mine, he wanted to speak to his father. He wanted to tell him to not to let AJ face the enemy alone. To protect him better than he had protected his son.

Huffing a breath of relief, AJ watched them ride out of sight, and then he started walking towards the town. As he walked, AJ planned on buying a horse and leaving the area. Bullet Club was still out there. Kenny was still out there. With a little luck he could hunt them down and kill them before they knew what was happening. That thought cheered him up a bit.

"Not going to happen," the Saint said from right beside him. "You have work to do."

Startled, AJ jumped and stumbled, nearly taking a header right into the prickly sage brush. "Jesus fucking Christ! Alright, I get it! You don't need to sneak up on a person." He almost bit his tongue as soon as he said it. The Saint looked like Christopher but his presence was very intimidating, something Christopher's never was. But AJ stuck to his guns, so to speak. This being had saved his life but had yet to tell him of what it wanted from him. And it was much taller than him which annoyed him to no end. Christopher hadn't been that tall when he was alive. "So are you going to tell me the truth about what's going on?" he demanded.

"I have no reason to lie to you, boy," the Saint said impatiently. "I need you to help me kill something."

"Then just fucking tell me what!" AJ yelled back. Usually he didn't swear but he was getting sick of not knowing what was going on and what was expected of him. "I agreed to work for you, but so far I haven't heard of what that means except for killing demons which I don't know how to do!" He jammed his hands through his hair in frustration.

The Saint's eyebrows rose but he held his temper. AJ did have a point. He gestured for AJ to keep heading to Bannack. As they walked, he told AJ about how he would need to identify the Skinwalker and how the Colt Walkers, with their ability to kill anything, would be what he used when the time came.

"So let me get this straight. I need to find this Skinwalker, whom nobody knows what it looks like, and you want me to identify it and help you kill it with a pair of magic guns that never jam, never need reloading and kill anything they hit?" AJ asked, brushing his hair out of his face.

"Correct," the Saint said.

As he walked, AJ thought about it. There was risk and great danger. But AJ had never backed down from a fight. He grinned. "Well, why didn't you just say so? Give me a little time and I'll get it done," he said. He resumed walking to town, but now it more like his characteristic Leader of Bullet Club strut. Truth be told, AJ's confidence was way out of proportion to his size, but he hadn't lead a gang of psycho killers as long as he had by being weak willed or careless.

For the first time in a long time, the Saint of Killers blinked in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that response. AJ Styles was not the usual type of killer he was used to dealing with. The confidence, bordering on arrogance, was present in all his other surviving men. But AJ reminded him more of Seth Rollins than Dean or Roman. He wondered if AJ had Seth's ability to plan moves and counter moves as well as Rollins did. If so, maybe, just maybe, AJ had a chance to come through this alive.

Near the outskirts of town, something stirred and opened its eyes. The slightest scent teased its nostrils, so small it could have been its imagination if it had one. Its eyes brightened at the whiff of death, and demons. It licked its lips in anticipation. Its prey had arrived.

TBC