American Trains
Chapter 4: Drag riders
Warning: This story will contain: violence, character death, swearing, sexual acts (yaoi/slash/boyxboy, whatever you want to call it) and some sensitive material.
Hetalia and all its characters, etc. belong to Himayura Hidekaz. I own nothing but the plot, the cowboys and their horses. ;)
Beta-ed by ykwyh26 (Kay). :)
A/N: Another speed write! Let me first address all the wonderful reviews!
ykwyh26: Ahhh what's a 100 years between firearms, right? No, you are absolutely correct. It should have been a Spencer Carbine 1865. Thank you for pointing that out! Yeah tetanus is defiantly a huge concern, also Hero is such a perfect name for the horse. I'm really leaning to that! :D
princesspug: Never seen it, but now you have me curious! I'll have to watch it some time! Thanks for the name idea, it's def. a neat choice.
CaptainCynical: Pegasus is a cool name, but i'm not sure it fits into the theme. I've certainly got an idea for all the names though. Thanks for the input. ;)
To everyone else: Wow I'm so glad to see so many history buffs! It also makes me feel a lot better about researching this stuff knowing people actually appreciate it. ;) Also yes, Arthur is quite the mystery man isn't he? You'll have to wait a bit longer because I plan on building this a bit more and really researching into this and his role more. Hehe
Without further ado, I give you chapter 4!
Alfred groaned and reluctantly opened his eyes to the first rays of sunlight starting to peer over the desert horizon. He raised a sleep numb hand to fix his askew glasses, since he'd forgotten to remove them before falling asleep. A few moments of lying still and blinking sleep away brought the cowboy to sensory alertness and he found himself to be much warmer and comfortable than usual. Straining his neck, Alfred smiled seeing Arthur's sleeping form curled up next to him. The cowboy rolled over on his opposite side and shook Arthur's shoulder.
"Hey, it's about time to be gettin' up." He muttered sleepily. Arthur grumbled something unintelligible and opened his eyes.
"It's still fucking dark out!" He groaned in his sleep hoarse voice. Alfred chuckled and sat up.
"Nah, sun's comin' up."
Arthur rolled on his back and glared at the offending fiery star as it rose higher above the horizon line, leaving delicate gold and orange streaks across the sand and dissolving the darkness inch by inch.
"Hey! Wait just a minute!" Alfred suddenly exclaimed, startling Arthur and the cowboy whirled back to stare down at him. "I coulda sworn I tied ya up last night!"
"Indeed you did." Arthur replied with cocky chuckle and grabbed the frayed rope at his side. He dropped it in Alfred's lap. "And it appears you did a poor job of it."
The cowboy narrowed his eyes and examined the rope.
"Looks to me like ya cut it. I know how to tie a rope just fine, Mr. Kirkland."
"A brilliant deduction, my dear brute!" Arthur rolled his eyes and sat up himself. Alfred sighed and quickly looped the rope around Arthur's middle.
"What do you think you're doing, you twit?" He exclaimed, squirming and kicking to get away.
"Quit fussin'! I ain't really gonna tie ya up but ya gotta at least look like it! Can't ya just pretend or the others are gonna be mad!" Alfred explained and pulled the smaller blond back to him and proceeded to very loosely tie a knot in the ropes.
"I'll have you know that I don't like this one bit!" The emerald-eyed man muttered as he barely allowed Alfred to tie him back up.
"Ya don't have to. I'm sure there's a town nearby, I've been seein' more signs 'a people living out here the farther we've been goin' on this trail. Town's gotta be here somewhere and once we find it we'll drop ya off and you can take these here ropes off and go on your way. How's that sound?" Alfred felt his stomach knot up even as he said the words. He'd only known the Brit for a few odd hours but he'd really grown fond of him. It was someone to talk to besides his horse. Someone who he didn't constantly fear might put a bullet in the back of his head when he wasn't looking.
"Sounds... fine I suppose." Arthur muttered looking down at his cut legs. Alfred nodded and once he'd finished, he assisted Arthur to his feet. The Englishman waited beside Alfred's horse while the cowboy rolled up his sleeping bag and shouldered his gun.
"Hey, Arthur?" He asked as he clipped the roll back to the horse's saddle packs.
"Hmm?"
"How'd ya cut them ropes?"
"I'm not obliged to disclose that with you."
"Wha? How come?" Alfred inquired and secured the Carbine against the saddle.
"Because I don't bloody feel like it! That's why!" Arthur growled back. "Now help me up!" He ordered and the American obliged, boosting Arthur up onto the saddle. He followed after and settled in the saddle. With a light kick the horse snorted and started off back toward where the other cowboys were finishing up packing and stomping out what remained of the fire.
By the time they'd reached the rest of the cowboys everything seemed set. The trail boss had the others in a semicircle around him with his point man, the cowboy who'd forced Alfred to tie Arthur up, at his side. They entered the semicircle and the trail boss took the morning head count.
"Now that y'all is here, let's start movin' on. Trail ain't too much longer so hustle! Al and Jem take swing! Joshua wi-"
"Wait a minute, sir." The point man interrupted and glanced at Alfred with a malicious smirk. The blond felt his blood heat up but he refused to do anything more than glare back.
"Ya got some nerve interuptin' me, Cole. This better be good." The trail boss said in a throaty growl.
"It is, sir, don't worry. I was just fixin' to point out to ya that Al shouldn't be takin' swing."
"And why's that?" The tall cowboy inquired, anger threading his words. "I always take swing!"
"It's true, Cole, and Alfred's damn good at it too. What's the big idea, son?" The trail boss added with eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"How's he supposed to be takin' swing when he's got that there foreigner to deal with? I certainly wouldn't want to have to swing with some stranger in the saddle behind me. Might distract 'im, and we wouldn't want to lose cattle 'cause 'a that, now would we? Let Alfred and his new buddy take drag; even he can't screw that up."
"Why you low-down, dirty, rotten piece of-" Alfred started, leaning forward in the saddle and teeth gritted in anger.
"Cole's got a point." The trail boss interjected.
"But, sir!" Alfred looked pleadingly to the trail boss.
"No 'buts,' son, take drag until we find a place to drop the stranger off. I ain't losin' my profits just 'cause yer heart's too big for this here desert. Next time you'll think twice before pickin' up stray foreigners." The trail boss turned his mount and finished giving the days orders and the cowboys started off.
Cole trotted his horse past Alfred.
"Have fun playin' in the dust, Yank." He howled with laughter and spurred his horse ahead to take point.
Alfred clenched his hands on the reins until he thought he might tear a muscle if he squeezed any harder. He gave his horse an angry kick and started off behind the cattle herd.
"I'm sorry." Arthur muttered, his eyes cast to the surrounding desert.
"Fer what? Ain't yer fault Cole's the way he is." The cowboy responded, voice falling from anger to defeat.
"If I hadn't been in that barbwire, you'd probably be a lot better off." The guilt swelled up in his chest. Already the dust from the cattle was kicking up and stinging his eyes and it must have been worse for Alfred.
"Coulda been barbwire or rattlesnakes or an old lady chasin' ya, I still woulda helped ya." Alfred said and glanced back at the despondent Arthur. "Hey buck up! Ain't nothin' wrong with ridin' drag. Used to do it all the time before I took over swing."
"Oh do shut up and accept the apology, Alfred. They're few and far between." The Brit said with a quick smile.
"Alright, if it makes ya feel better, I forgive whatever ya think ya did." The American shrugged and set his hat lower on his head.
"I just got one more question though." Alfred said and flicked the reins to spur the horse to a slightly different angle. Arthur groaned.
"Get on with it then."
"What were you doin' tangled up in that wire anyway?" When Arthur didn't respond, Alfred twisted in the saddle to look at him. "Ya hear me, Arthur?"
"I heard you, git!" He retorted and avoided Alfred's eyes.
"So then how come ya didn't answer me?" Alfred inquired again.
Arthur sighed.
Because telling you the truth would only make it worse for you, my dear sweet brute.
The Englishman thought. When Alfred insisted again, the shorter blond scrambled his mind for some sort of plausible lie.
"You'd laugh at me if I were to tell you." He led on, still sorting out a story in his mind. Alfred laughed.
"Nah I wouldn't!" He responded, regaining his smile.
"You just did!" Arthur exclaimed.
"Just tell me!" Alfred playfully elbowed Arthur and Brit sputtered.
"Fine! Have you ever heard of a jackalope?" Arthur started, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Those crazy fake rabbits?"
"They're real, you bloody American!"
"Nah they ain't! What are ya, some two year old? Rabbits with horns ain't real!"
"Fine, then I won't continue." Arthur said dismissively and gave a devilish smirk as Alfred whined.
"Aww, don't be like that Mr. Kirkland. What's jackalopes got to do with ya being all wrapped up in barbwire?"
"Very well, I suppose I'll tell you then. Well I'd heard a rumor that a jackalope had been spotted near here." Arthur flawlessly lied. He knew jackalopes weren't real, but the American kept looking back at him with transfixed eyes. He really did want to hear the tall tale.
"But not just any jackalope, might I add. But a mint green jackalope!" Alfred's glass blue eyes grew wide.
"Are you tellin' me someone really thought they saw a green jackalope?"
"Indeed I am. Now being the curious man I am, I set out to find this mysterious mint jackalope. While I was walking I swore I saw it dive into a bush so I rushed after it! I became so enamored with catching the elusive mint jackalope that I hadn't noticed the old barbwire left on the ground. I assume it was from someone's old farm."
Alfred nodded. It did happen. Abandoned farms sometimes left their wire on the ground and the dust would blow over and hide it pretty well until some poor fellow managed to find it wrapped about their feet.
"Anyway, it became so entangled around my legs as I searched that bush that by the time I had noticed it I was too entrapped to free myself." Arthur trailed off.
"And that's when a good ol' hero arrived and saved ya." Alfred added and laughed. The Englishman scoffed but allowed Alfred's little self-flattery. He didn't feel right correcting the taller as the guilt from the blatant lie sat uneasily in his gut.
"Well, I guess that makes sense but just don't go runnin' off on me if ya see that crazy green rabbit again." Arthur chuckled.
"I assure you, I'm over searching for it."
Does he really believe that load of rubbish? He wondered. He certainly did hope so. He'd rather Alfred think of him as a bit crazy then having to tell the truth.
What he doesn't know can't hurt him, right? Oh you know that's not true!He mentally argued with himself before Alfred's voice brought him back to reality.
"Look!" Alfred pointed at a slight elevation and Arthur had to squint against the sun and dust to see just what the cowboy was alerting him to. He saw it within a moment though, and his heart dropped.
Buildings: A long row of them silhouetted by the sun. They'd found the town Alfred and the Trail boss had mentioned.
It wasn't long before the Trail Boss had dropped back down to the rear and rode beside Alfred and Arthur.
"Go set your charge up in that there town, Al. We'll drive slow so ya can catch up but don't stray long, ya hear?" He ordered and didn't wait for Alfred's response before riding back up to point with Cole.
Alfred sighed and turned his horse away from the herd and towards the town.
"I didn't realize how close we were to it. Thought we'd have more time to talk before I had to send ya off." The American muttered and felt his chest tighten. He doubted Arthur felt the same way, but the cowboy was more than happy to call the sharp-tongued Brit a friend, even if he'd only known him a short time.
"Where does the time go?" Arthur mumbled in return, feeling the same familiar tightening in his chest. He rather did like the blue-eyed cowboy, much more than anyone else he'd met in his short time in America.
When they reached the edge of the town Alfred dismounted and helped the tied Arthur down and freed him of the loose rope.
"I'll at least put ya up in a lodge. Wouldn't want ya sleepin' on some store porch." Alfred said and led his horse, with Arthur by his side, through the small town.
"I have plenty of money, Alfred. You don't need to do that." Arthur responded eyes watching anywhere but the American next to him. Alfred shrugged.
"It makes me feel better. Just let me, alright?"
"Fine."
They remained silent the rest of the walk until they came upon a place with vacant rooms. Alfred loosely tied his horse to the post and vowed to make this quick: both to avoid a long goodbye to Arthur and to avoid losing his horse to a sticky-fingered thief.
Entering, Alfred immediately sought someone to pay the room fee to and left Arthur standing awkwardly by the entrance. When he returned with the room information Arthur thanked him and steadied himself.
"I suppose this is goodbye."
"Yeah," was Alfred's only response. Arthur moved to go to his now paid room when suddenly a pair of strong arms wrapped around his chest. He squeaked indignantly but relaxed as Alfred hugged him tighter.
"Take care 'a yerself, ya hear me Mr. Kirkland?" He said affectionately.
"I will you fucking git, now unhand me!" Arthur teased and the cowboy obeyed yet again. Alfred nodded, turned and exited the lodge with a quick wave.
The Englishman gave a hefty sigh then proceeded up to his room. He missed the American bloke already.
Outside again Alfred patted his horse's neck. The steed gave a soft nicker.
"Yeah, I'll miss 'im too." He played lightly with frayed tips of the horse's mane and spared a look around. Just across the dusty way and a few buildings down Alfred could see the looming sign of a saloon.
"I could really use something stiff about now." He muttered and led the animal across the way, determined to forget the ache in his chest with the aid of some hard liquor.
A/N: Oh noes! Alfie and Arthur seperated? What in the world am I thinking? :P
No worries, it's not the end, not by a long shot and the separation certainly won't be permanent. ;)
Btw, everyone remembers Flying Mint Bunny, right? Meet his cousin, the Elusive Mint Jackalope. I couldn't resist when the idea hit me.
Now for the minor history notes here:
The trail boss is he who keeps the cowboys in order and tried to keep peace.
Being Point is the big honor among cowboys. They are the ones who steer the herd and could work alone or in pairs.
Swing is also a good position among the cowboys, they rode a bit back from the point and had to be pretty experienced.
Drag and Drag riders was one of the lowest positions for a real cowboy. They had to be highly alert and forceful to keep the cattle from slowing. They were swamped by dust and debris from the herd and it was often a very dirty, dangerous and unpleasant job. Alfred dropping from Swing to Drag would be like a slap in the face and that's exactly what mean old Cole intended.
I think that covers it! :D Look forward to ya'll thoughts/reviews!