A/N: I know Buttercup was already introduced, but I had such a nice visual for him that I had to use him again. Enjoy! Review please!
Chapter 8: Tension
"Woody?"
For a split second, time seemed to stop. Then... well... Bo wasn't entirely sure. Everything had happened so fast. One moment, the two men were staring at each other, the next, they were tumbling on the ground. The stranger had jumped at the Sheriff, swinging, and the Sheriff had responded. Now they were throwing each other around the apothecary, punching faces, hitting stomachs, kicking shins, etc, etc, etc.
"You lying son of a bitch! You said you were dead!" The stranger was shouting.
"Damnit, Ben, it's complicated!" Woody was yelling back.
Bo was so confused and so drained she didn't even step in between the brawl. She watched the scene unfold, leaning against the wall for support, hoping that the men would just tire each other out. She thought she heard Dolly call from the other room, but before she could act, someone else stepped in.
"What the-?"
A tall, bulky man dressed in blue jeans and hefty snakeskin boots entered the store, following the tumble with bright baby-blue eyes. His muscles tensed and bulged under his white button-up, and he calmly set down the paper bags full of groceries he had been carrying. Noticing that the two men weren't paying attention to him, the man turned to Bo, asking,
"What in the world is going on?"
Bo shrugged and shook her head helplessly. "I don't even know anymore."
The man, who had aged ripely into his early forties, scowled as the two men before him entered a strangle-hold on each other. He slicked back his bleached blonde hair, rolled up his sleeves, and stepped into the fight. With a few swift, effortless motions, he picked up the men by their collars, ripping them apart.
"HEY!" He bellowed over their cries. It was quite astonishing how quickly the two gentlemen froze. "Does someone want to tell me why the hell you two are wrecking Dolly's store?"
"Buttercup, you're back!" Woody said, relieved at the sight of a comrade.
The man sighed and rolled of his eyes. "Come on, man. Can't you at least call me Bradley while in the company of a newcomer?"
"This newcomer probably isn't staying long," Woody said, an untold secret darkening his eyes.
"I don't care if he's staying two minutes or two days," Buttercup said, placing the men tentatively on their feet. "But maybe, just maybe, you could tell poor Bo and me what's going on instead of just punching the living daylights out of each other."
Woody and the stranger looked at each other, breathing heavily, and the atmosphere grew thick with tension. Surprisingly, the stranger spoke first.
"Woodrow and I were in the academy together," he said quietly. "We were best friends in the junior training program, and we eventually became partners." The two men continued to stare at each other, unmoving.
Brad was in absolute shock. He said, "Wait a second... You're AER?" The stranger nodded. Bo gasped and Brad whipped a sawed-off shotgun out of one of the paper bags. Fiercely, he growled, "What the hell are you doing in this town?"
The young man hardly seemed phased by the weapon, let alone present in his own body. "I ran into your friend in town the other day. We fought and she took me hostage."
"Jessie?" Bo asked, surprised. "Jessie took an AER Official hostage?"
"I wish she'd killed you," Brad spat.
"Calm down," Woody said, putting a hand on the shotgun so Brad would lower it. "If Jessie let him live, she must have done it for a reason."
Brad scowled, asking, "Did she know you were his partner?"
"She couldn't have," the stranger answered for Woody. "After about two years, Woodrow was kidnapped and killed by a gang of Bounty Hunters while on a solo reconnaissance mission. At least, that's what I was told."
"It's complicated," Woody said again, edgy.
"You lied to the officials!" Buzz hissed.
"Oh, no! Not the officials!"
Enraged, Buzz grabbed Woody by the shirt. "You lied to me!"
"The hell don't you understand about complicated, huh!" Woody shot back.
"Fuck complicated!" Ben shouted, beside himself. "Do you have any idea how much you screwed me up? I couldn't work for days after I heard the news!"
"Oh, god forbid you stop your slave labor for a few days!"
"It's not-!"
"Working under the dictatorship of the Alliance!"
"You shut your mouth!"
"What? You really think the Alliance are the good guys in this?" Woody shouted back, roughly shoving Buzz away. "You really think that behind all the locked doors and black curtains they have the people's best interest in mind?" Upon Buzz's silence, Woody's face hardened. "I saw things on that mission, Ben. Things that made me realize I could never go back to the Alliance."
"Like what! You've been dead for almost ten years, you son of a bitch!"
"You don't understand!"
"What the hell made you disappear for ten fucking years!"
"Stop yelling at me!"
"Then tell me what happened!"
"ALRIGHT! That's enough!" Everyone stopped as soon as they heard Dolly's voice. They turned to the open doorway, and Bo gulped, not sure of the last time she had seen her friend so angry. The woman looked positively livid. With hands balled into fists, Dolly shot glares at Woody and Buzz. "Now listen up. I don't care that there's an Alliance Official here. I don't care that everyone is upset about it. I don't give two shits about what happened however many years ago or who to blame or why. All I know is that I am trying to take care of a woman, that all of us love very deeply, who is dying! If you two selfish bastards don't take your fucked up relationship issues outside, then your loud, annoying voices are going to be the last thing that Jessie will ever hear. Do you want that!"
No one said a word.
"Bo," Dolly said sharply. "Take Woody outside and see if you can tend to Bullseye. Brad, help Buzz with his cuts. There will be no fights, no plans of escape, and not a single word about the Official to anyone else. Is that clear?" The silence was a unison agreement. "Good." Dolly turned and slammed the back door shut, leaving the four adults in a wretched stillness.
x*x*x*x
Flashing images occupied the Sheriff's mind as he tried to focus on washing off his steed. A farm, two young, smiling girls, and a loving mother and father... Fires starting in the stables first, then in the basement... Woody tried not to concentrate on the memories, but couldn't. No matter what he did, all he could see was the huge, daunting pool of blood... the smell invading his senses, stifling his nostrils and coating his lungs...
Bullseye whinnied softly, bringing Woody back to Earth. He heaved a sigh and patted the horse's neck, giving him sugar cubes for a job well done. He made his way over to a barrel and slumped down, thinking. Ben was the last person Woody had expected to see when he woke up that morning, and taking care of him would be a task that he wasn't quite ready to deal with. He knew Ben, and he knew how ridiculously addicted to protocol he was. Woody knew, even before he executed his fake death, that he wouldn't, no... couldn't see Ben again. But now... now it was different.
Now, Ben was in his town, beat to shit, bloodied and exhausted, but nonetheless alive. Woody owed him a debt of gratitude for bringing Jessie back, but what was he going to do? Almost all of The Outlaws plans were mere buildings away, and if Ben got his hands on that kind of information...
"Here," Bo's voice broke the heavy silence in the horse's quarters as she offered Woody a cold can of beer.
He looked at the beverage pitifully. "No, thanks. I'm not thirsty."
Bo rolled her eyes and put the can on Woody's swollen and cut lip. Taking the hint, he accepted the can and held it against his face. "He landed a couple good hits, Sheriff," Bo said.
"He got lucky," Woody mumbled.
"Any idea what you're going to do next?"
He shook his head at this. "Nope."
Bo offered a smile, and touched his cheek, her fingertips softly brushing over his bruises. Woody shivered as Bo planted a gentle kiss upon his lips, then leaned her forehead against his. "Well, there's a first time for everything."
x*x*x*x
Blackness. Pain. Noises.
Darkness so thick that light was forgotten. Pain so deep that it penetrated the senses. Sounds so loud that they made the brain swell and eyes twitch.
She wouldn't make it out of this one. She didn't really see how.
Such a lousy way to go, too. A snakebite? Really?
She wondered what heaven would be like, or if she was even going there anyway. Perhaps wherever she was going wouldn't have an evil dictatorship determined to rule the universe. Perhaps wherever she was going had all the whiskey you could drink. Perhaps, in this magical land, there would be such a thing as freedom of religion, text, and speech, just like Earth That Was. All the cocoa was real, and all the attractive men she met and took hostage would find it easy to make a change of heart and support her rebel cause.
Yeah...
She liked the sound of this place...
x*x*x*x
Ben did not like being alone with Bradley. The entire time the two men were cleaning up his wounds, no one had said a word. Brad's face was set in an angry scowl, and he was a bit rough with the cleaning procedure. When all of Ben's cuts had been bandaged properly, Brad left the apothecary, tossing a wary glance over his shoulder. It was only then that Ben began to breathe properly again.
Strangely enough, running at that point in time was not an option Ben gave much thought. He still had no idea where he was, with thin transportation methods, and no working electronic equipment for at least ten miles. He wasn't sure which kind of prisoner situation was worse. The one with the guns, or the one with a sheer lack of options.
His mind strayed to The Alliance and what Woody had said. There was a time when Ben would have been appalled at his partner's words; when he would have gone through hell and back to prove his partner wrong. Yet, years passed, and, as he grew older, he began to see some flaws in the system. He had been passed between a few different departments, and he had seen some questionable things that the higher-ups deemed perfectly alright. Ben knew The Alliance wasn't perfect, he had known that since before he started his strenuous job of finding the Outlaws... but complete mutiny? That was something he had never even dreamed of considering. The Alliance was order, structure, support. To rebel against that sort of organization would be like rebelling against time. Everything would just... fall apart.
Ben sighed, rubbing his temples. He looked around the shop, eyes landing on the door to the back room. His face hardened as he thought about her; the wild cowgirl who was now poisoned to a sickly state in between life and death... and it was his fault. Granted, she did shoot him with a revolver, tie him up in ropes and duct tape, change his clothing, dispose of his suit, and drag him around the desert as her hostage. Technically, she was a criminal in the highest degree... but still...
She had tended to the scrapes she caused him. She had fed him and given him water. She saved their hides during a sandstorm, and given him a bed to sleep on in a one-person hotel room. She had risked neck and limb to save him from bounty hunters. Throughout everything, Jessie's first priority had remained Ben's well-being. This was not the "ruthless, brutal enemy" he was prepped to meet.
As he was staring at the white door, it suddenly moved, and Dolly stood in the frame. She spotted him, saying, "Good. You're still here. Stay in the room with Jessie. I need to run and get something from the basement."
Ben stood and instinctively asked, "Is she ok?"
"Hard to tell," Dolly said, moving quickly. "Keep talking to her, ok? Make sure..." Here, she paused, and Ben didn't feel as if it were a good thing. "Make sure she doesn't... go anywhere."
The woman exited the space, and Ben was left to awkwardly sidle into the back room. He gulped at the sight of all the blood-covered instruments, his eyes settling on the ghastly image of Jessie. She was unnervingly still, sweating, and inhaling deeply, as if breathing were a challenge. She looked so pale...
Ben stood motionless, unsure of what to do. He knew he wasn't supposed to aid the enemy, but not helping Jessie seemed inhumane and heartless. She coughed suddenly, a bit of blood coming up. Without hesitation, Ben took a towel and hurriedly wiped up the mess, crimson tainting the cloth. He bit his lip, chest tightening as he brushed strands of hair away from her face.
"N-now you listen here," he spoke clumsily. "You... You got a lot of people here that... well, they like you a lot and... and they have jobs for you to do and... and..." He put down the washcloth and took her hand, squeezing. He spent a few minutes just looking at her, trying desperately to think of something to say. What could Ben, of all people, possibly say to any Outlaw that would make them stick around. Aside from the whole 'under arrest' spiel. "... You... you can't leave... You're not allowed... You have to, ah... there's these things that you... well, you just... you need to... Damnit, you just can't leave yet, ok! I didn't chafe my thighs getting you here for nothing, you understand?"
He looked at her hand. The same hand had managed to ball into a fist and deliver one hell of a right hook. It seemed so small and lifeless...
"You can't leave yet, Jessie... not yet..."
