Hey guys! Sorry about the long time between updates, I am a little over two weeks out of open heart surgery (everything is progressing well!) and this is the first time I've felt like really doing anything other than watching Netflix so I hope you enjoy! That being said, I hope this chapter doesn't come out too disjointed; it was hard to get back into the swing of things, especially since I was trying to find the balance between sappy and serious. I hope its not too sappy. That being said, there are some hints to Vasquez's past, but they're very light hints since I haven't decided yet exactly what's going on. Also! The scene between Vas and Anthony is a deleted scene from the movie, and you can find it on YouTube. I'm so mad it was cut y'all, it gives him so much depth. Anyway, enjoy, let me know if it was too sappy! Next chapter we get into the fight. God help me I have no idea how to write it.

"Laughter went on and on, like sunlight and stone, even if the human beings who laughed did not."

Robin McKinley, Chalice

Vasquez rolled over in his bed and punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape. Even with his shirt off the room was stifling, too still after all the nights he'd spent under the stars. Gavin David had given him a good deal on the room; he hadn't slept so well in a long time. But that night sleep was far from coming, and he was painfully aware of the hours passing. A rooster crowed every so often, but even that was half hearted and muted in the night. He'd heard Tessa's light tread pass by his room hours ago, and Faraday's snores had drowned out any other noises quickly.

Growling in frustration he sat up and wiped a hand down his face. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. The boards were rough under the soles of his feet.

She wants a man who won't leave.

He bared his teeth in a silent snarl.

...good enough man. But he isn't good enough for you.

Finally he gave up on trying to sleep and padded as quietly as could across the creaking floor to rifle through his saddlebags. With a triumphant noise he pulled out the half empty bottle of whiskey he'd managed to save from Faraday.

Because he's an outlaw right?

He took a long burning swallow of whiskey and shuddered as it settled into a pleasant warmth in his belly.

For an outlaw, Vasquez isn't, you know, a terrible person. He's just, like Nick said, not good enough for you

A wry smile showed on his face as he planted his elbows on his knees, recalling all too easily the scene in the stables he'd stumbled onto.

...he could hurt you…

He wanted to be angry. It had surged in him at first, curling his hands into fists at his sides, followed quickly by a burn of humiliation that he hadn't felt since-

"Hijo! No lo hagas!"

They were right. He took another pull of whiskey and this time didn't shudder. That was the worst part. He was no good for her.

No puedes irte, no puedes hacernos esto!

Vasquez glanced out the window into the dark. The stars twinkled their distant brightness at him and he sighed. It was a long time till sunrise.

Sam cast him sharp looks over breakfast but didn't try to figure out why he was so ill, a small favor for which Vasquez was grateful. A headache pounded behind his eyes but it wasn't his first hard morning, so he forced some water and food down his throat before getting to work in the the barn they had set up. Nick elected to work with one of the townsfolk rather than Vasquez that morning, fortifying the walls and support beams. He was in and out all morning. The schoolteachers boy took over his former station, attempting to peel the bark off a sapling.

Even through the pounding in his head Vasquez noticed the mijo was just as bad at it as Nick, that cabron, had been. With a sigh he set aside his own tool and moved carefully to urge the boy aside with a sharp noise. The nino did as he instructed, eyes large and worshipful in his face. Vasquez shook himself demonstrated how to move the tool so it did most of the work. He nodded determinedly and did as the other instructed, glancing up at him for approval. Vasquez didn't know precisely what to do so he nodded to show he was doing well.

His shoulders burned as he set the massive screw in his hands to work boring the through the log, but he knew his work well enough to keep an eye on the nino. He couldn't place him. Why was he here and not with his mama?

"Where's your mother? I haven't seen you with her."

The boy kept his gaze on his work, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal, but his words cut Vasquez to the quick. "She died having me. It's only me and my father."

Vasquez cleared his throat, kept his eyes on his work. "He runs the school yes?"

The nino scoffed under his breath but his answer was clear enough. "He ain't much good for nothing else."

Against his better judgement, Vasquez paused. "Why do you say it like that?"

"Cause he ain't." the nino (he was nearly sure his name was Anthony or something like that) shot back defiantly. "I heard him talking to Mr. Stoner! Said he was afraid." The scorn for his own father was clear on his face and in his voice and Vasquez felt the events of the past day come crashing in. The throbbing in his head receded as he marched over to Anthony and snatched him by the ear, dragging him over to sit on the wagon, waiting to be filled with fresh-cut lumber.

"Sit down," he ordered sharply. "You think I am brave because I carry a gun? Hm?-"

"But I can help fight-"

"Shh! Your father is braver. He carries something greater than a gun. It is called responsibility, and he carries it for you alone, all by himself! This responsibility is like a big rock that weighs a ton. It can kill a man. If he's not strong enough to bear it." His anger ebbed away leaving him exhausted and bitter than when he'd started. "I don't have the guts to be responsible for anyone but me. That's why I never had anything. That's why…"

Anthony gaped up at him, wide eyed and he couldn't bear to look at him anymore. "Just go. Go." The boy scampered off, right on out of the barn and Vasquez leaned in the doorway, knocking a fist gently against his forehead. He should not have done that. He should not have said that.

"Qué estoy haciendo?" he muttered.

When he returned to his work everyone was carefully looking elsewhere, except there was Nick Newell, at Anthony's workstation, watching him with a unreadable expression. Vasquez barely suppressed a snarl of irritation. "I haven't even seen your sister today." he snapped peevishly, the throb in his head nearly unbearable. Nick looked down at the hat in his hands but didn't say anything. For a moment, he looked ashamed. Vasquez looked again, certain he was mistaken, but Nick didn't meet his gaze again.

"They're about to raise the bell in the church, Sam was wondering if you'd come help."

Oh. "Si, I will go now."

The other nodded slowly and put his hat back on to go back out into the noontime sun. Vasquez followed quickly after and easily kept pace with the man, who was nearly of a height with him. Or maybe it was the other way around? To his surprise, Nick spoke.

"You look like you got hit with the wrong end of the bottle."

Vasquez eyed him suspiciously, but the pain wasn't getting any better. "Something like that." Nick still didn't look at him.

"Funny, didn't see you drink near as much as Faraday did last night."

...he's not good enough for you… Vasquez sneered at his bushy profile.

"Had trouble falling asleep." The words spilled out without his consent, even as the church came into sight. "I heard some interesting things in the stables last night."

Nick stopped dead in his tracks and Vasquez just kept going.

It was a good thing Nick didn't try to talk to him after that because Vasquez wasn't sure what he would have done if he had. As it was, he quickened his pace and left the other man where he stood in the street, and Sam spared a nod his way before turning to Joe to discuss something. For once, Tessa was not at his elbow, waving papers and eyes alight-

The sight of her didn't strike him, like in the stories his father used to tell about meeting his mother. She didn't take his breath away. But he steeled himself at the sight of her all the same, arms folded and weight held back on one heel, watching the proceedings with a gentle expression. She hadn't seen him yet, but he found himself wondering what she'd do when she noticed him. Vasquez shook his head slowly and walked into the church.

He had work to do.

Between all the menfolk they got the bell raised. Joe provided a running commentary that kept their spirits high, and in spite of himself Vasquez couldn't help but laugh at him. Neither of the Newell men knew much about carpentry, (or general upkeep) but they were good men in a crisis. Even Nick cracked a smile or two at his brothers antics. The metal was black with soot under his hands as he helped to raise the bell, but it was still sound and Vasquez proudly watched it rise under the combined power of all the men. Somewhere outside the church the clear, bright sound of Tessa's laughter sounded, followed by Faraday's voice raised in response.

"At least someone is happy in all this."

Vasquez felt more than saw Nick look at Sam as they exited the church to find Tessa and Faraday arguing loudly about something. Strange woman. Tessa looked delighted to be fighting with someone and Rocks was shaking his head, an amused tilt to his mouth. Faraday leaned in close and said something he couldn't hear. Tessa froze, only to tilt her head to the side, eyes narrowed. Nick started laughing. The preacher shot him a concerned glance but Vasquez and Sam exchanged a knowing look. Whatever was going to happen was bound to be entertaining. They all watched (Nick just laughed harder) Tessa abruptly grapple Faraday, twist his arm sharply and lever him to the ground, with said man looking confused the whole way down. Sam laughed like he was surprised he still could and Vasquez shook his head.

"Mujer loca."

"Si." Sam chuckled.

And then Red Harvest came riding in, trailing a plume of fine dust behind his horse. He dismounted easily and went straight for Sam, speaking his own language, a clatter of sharp syllables. Sam's face had dropped its smile as soon as he'd come riding in, but it quickly grew unreadable as he listened carefully. Nick had stopped laughing.

The bell rang as the Comanche finished speaking and Vasquez fought not to shiver at the sound. Chance, nothing more, made the bell sound (well that and the school teacher) but he crossed himself anyway. Sam looked away and down without speaking. Everyone watched him, waiting to see what he would say. They all knew, Vasquez knew too, but they waited anyway to hear him confirm what they all were thinking.

"He's coming. Be here at dawn."

There was not a lot of talking during dinner. True to form Faraday drank, but with a lot less laughter and much more silence. Goody and Billy didn't speak, they ate and smoked and Horne looked down at his plate, ate like he didn't see what was on it, and didn't care anyway. Sam was miles away, lost somewhere in his own head. He wasn't sure where the Indian was, but he never took to the food anyway, so that wasn't surprising. Tessa, Nick, and Joe murmured softly to one another, sharp lines of worry in their faces. For the first time since the siblings had stepped foot in Rose Creek they acutally looked like they were going to war. For his part Vasquez managed to eat, though the food tasted like dust.

The three were the first to get up, but they didn't go far, moving out onto the Elysium's porch. Tessa had a hand on each of them, one gripping Nick's wrist, the other tucked into the crook of Joe's arm. The two men didn't seem to mind, and let themselves be herded out into the dark. Vasquez didn't watch them go. The whole moment seemed intensely private, something he should not be seeing, even if all he saw was their backs.

"Awful young for this sort of fight." Horne said suddenly. Since no one else seemed inclined Vas gave a questioning grunt.

"Them, I mean. Red Harvest too." He nodded to the darkened doorway. "Too young to have been in the war, but not old enough for this."

"They chose to be here." Sam addressed his plate in a measured way.

"True enough," Horne nodded slowly. Sam cut him off before he could speak again.

"We all did. It seems to me we're lucky to get to choose where we might die."

"I didn't." Faraday snorted. "I pay off my horse yet Sam?"

"So far so good."

A half-hearted chuckle rippled around the table and it seemed to set Robicheaux off; he jerked up and away from the table with a clatter. He grimaced politely at them and muttered something about needing a bit of air before taking the back way out. Billy hesitated a moment before quietly going after him. Their plates were half empty and Vasquez wondered idly if it would be poor form to finish them. He wasn't hungry per say, but you never knew where the next meal might come from, if it came at all.

The air seemed to leave the room at that and Faraday cleared his throat sharply and went out on the porch where Vasquez could hear the Newell's talking softly. A half full bottle of whiskey dangled from his fingers and Vasquez shook his head. If the guero made it to morning without drinking himself to death it would be a miracle. Horne nodded to himself and scraped the last of his meal off his plate before he excused himself as well. That left Sam and Vasquez. Sam stared down at his plate, and Vasquez gave up the ghost and lit his cigar. He exhaled a long cloud of fragrant smoke into the air.

"You ready for this my friend?" he asked.

"I…" he hesitated, something Vasquez never thought he would see. "I reckon so. Man can choose to run or die. Running ain't gonna stop death from coming for him though, so I believe I'll face mine straight. If it comes to that."

The words touched a chord in him, a guitar string being plucked and as he pulled in a deep lungful of smoke, he briefly touched the pendant at his throat. "Creo que entiendo lo que quieres decir." Sam surprised him by nodding like he agreed before he pushed away from the table and he left Vasquez wondering just how much the man understood. Low strains of conversation drifted through the doorway, interrupted by a low chuckle from Faraday. The lone man at the empty table released one more long cloud of smoke before he pushed away from the table and walked outside.

It was an odd picture that greeted him. Nick and Joe sitting on the edge of the porch, Tessa leaning back against a post with a pad of paper on her knees. He thought she was writing (that had been her near constant state as long as he'd known her) but she didn't make the right gestures to be writing. Instead, when he looked closer he realized the smudges on her paper were drawings, graceful black lines that he couldn't quite make out in the low lamp light. Faraday probably couldn't see them either but that didn't stop him from pestering her to "get his good side", while Horne shook his head at the younger man's antics. Red Harvest flanked the other side of the doorway and Vasquez paused minutely to give him a nod. To his surprise the other nodded back.

He found a pillar of his own to lean against and listened to the townspeople sing a hymn. The sky was large enough to swallow the sound, but that didn't stop him from losing himself in the music for a moment. Slow and solemn, the song, a song of redemption and blood and sacrifice, (which was a little on the nose for his tastes) bled away into the night and the preacher began to preach.

"They're good people." Joe said suddenly. Nick grunted quietly in response. It might have been a question.

"As good as any." Tessa's dark hair gave off a faint shine as she tipped her head to the side in a gesture that Vasquez already knew meant she was thinking. She inhaled sharply as if she would go on, but then she bent over her art again.

"Well go on and finish." The words left his mouth before he thought about them and all three Newell's turned to look at him. He chomped on his cigar, cursing at himself internally. He had not meant to say anything to any of them. Without their hats they did look as young as Horne seemed to think they were, and he saw Tessa smile crookedly.

"It wasn't anything important."

"Well now I'm curious," Faraday drawled.

"Sounds like a nice change from being confused." Vasquez snickered in spite of himself.

"You ought to be nicer to me, we might all be dead tomorrow." Faraday replied insolently.

"I believe being nice means being honest." This time it was Horne who cracked a smile while Nick coughed loudly into his hand.

"You're a hard woman Tessa Newell." Faraday slouched into the wall and pouted like a child.

"Oh my heart bleeds buttermilk for you Faraday."

The guero opened his mouth to reply, looking deeply insulted but nothing came out. Vasquez craned around his post to see the tail end of Goody's mare as he road out of town. His stomach sank somewhere to his knees at the sight and he heard Tessa gasp softly. He felt more than heard Nick growl. The sniper rode past the townsfolk as the preacher closed in prayer and Sam stepped wearily up onto the porch.

"Where's Billy?" he asked, searching their faces.

"I believe he has started to drink." Horne replied.

"Alright," Sam nodded almost to himself. "Anybody else want to leave, now's the time. No one will hold no ill will towards you."

Vasquez tapped his cigar against his palm thoughtfully. "What about you?"

"I...I believe I'm going to see this through. These people deserve their lives back."

"I have nowhere else to go, so...I'm in." He smiled at his own words. Who would have thought?

"I knew tomorrow was gonna be a dark day, but now there's one less of us, it's gonna be darker." Horne looked at each face as if searching for something. "But...to be in the service of others, with men -and women- that I respect...like you all...Well I shouldn't have to ask for more than that."

"We're staying." To his surprise it was Nick who spoke for his siblings. He went on gruffly. "Wouldn't be right to leave these people. We know what might come, we're as ready as anybody can be I think."

"We hope." Joe corrected. He smiled a smile that the darkness couldn't dim. "Anyway, after all the work we put into this, I'm not going anywhere."

"Same." said Tessa firmly.

Sam looked at them intently and nodded once before heading off to the church. Faraday cut and shuffled his deck and they all watched him go. An unexpected voice broke the silence. "I'm hungry."

They froze and almost as one swiveled to eye the Comanche. While Horne sputtered in surprise Tessa cackled and slapped at Faraday's knee. "Pay up, I told you he could speak English!"

"Wait you knew?"

"Hijole de la chingada," Vasquez swore.

"I suspected," she laughed and held out her hand expectantly. Scowling, Faraday dropped some money into her palm.

"You little sh** !." Horne laughed, and followed the Comanche inside, demanding an explanation. Tessa did the same, still laughing up into the guero's face. Faraday made grumbling noises like he was angry but Vasquez saw him smiling. He was grinning himself as he followed; he didn't even mind that Nick and Joe were right behind him, muttering to each other.

Their priorities were certainly strange, Vasquez concluded. Gringos. You'd think they'd care more about their sister possibly dying than who showed an interest in her. Vasquez shook his head and walked behind the bar to pour himself another drink. Gavin probably wouldn't mind, there were bigger things to worry about. Nick and Joe closed in on Faraday and Tessa and wedged their way between the two.

Gringos locos y autoritarios, he thought and knocked back his drink.