- Author's Note - Hey, guys! Thank you SO much to lostfeather1, NicoleR85, LoveFiction2017, MedievalWarriorPrincess, and Arkansas Sweetheart for reviewing!
This Chapter is a mixture of the past and the present. We'll start off still in the present, then we'll take a trip to the past, to get the time of Elena with Cullen, and on the Railroad, going. So, be sure to review, and let me know what you thought, especially of the flashbacks. Also, please be warned, they take place in the mid-late 1800s, where being "politically correct" and such was the last thing on everyone's minds, so you'll hear words and see things that may offend you. If they do, I apologize, but that's how people acted and spoke back then.
Also, as I'm writing this, I saw the news that Nelsan Ellis, the amazing actor who brought Lafayette to life on the show, has died from heart failure at the mere age of 39. I'm so shocked and heartbroken by this.
But, I'd like to dedicate this Chapter to Nelsan. He was a phenomenal talent, and no one could've portrayed Lafayette the way he did. R.I.P. Nelsan. :'(
With that, I hope you all enjoy, and, again, please don't forget to review!
It was still dark out when Phil awoke. The house was completely silent, save for the cicadas and the crickets making their nightly noises, and it took the older man a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, illuminated partly by the light of the moon and stars, streaming in through the curtain drawn bedroom windows. But, once they had, he found his brow furrowing in confusion, and disbelief, at the sight he found next to him in bed.
Elena was laying on her stomach, her dark silky head turned away from him, as she hugged the pillow it rested on with both slender arms, while a single ivory colored sheet just barely covered her legs, and part of torso.
Phil's heartbeat instinctively picked up. It'd been quite a while since he'd had a woman in his bed, let alone one so beautiful and young. Why was she in his bed, exactly? Yes, it was her house, so the bed, and the room, technically belonged to her, but that still didn't answer his question. Was this a Fairy thing? To crawl into bed with your guest?
Flicking a glance over at the bedroom door, he saw it was completely closed, as apposed to slightly ajar, how he'd left it when he'd gone to sleep, then returned his gaze to Elena, slowly lifting one of his large hands, and placing it gently on her slender back, trapping some of her long straight honey brown tresses beneath the limb, then giving her the slightest shake.
"Elena?" he spoke in his hoarse from sleep voice. His confusion, and desperate need for answers, overrode the usual part of him that would let her sleep, especially since she needed it, after everything she'd been through lately. "Elena? Elena, wake up."
She moaned softly, as his actions and words drew her out of her slumber, which, truth be told, had been the best she'd had for as long as she could remember, and, were Phil not so concerned with why she was in bed with him, he'd have realized the same.
"Elena," he continued, soon retracting his hand, when she began to roll over, as he didn't want the limb to end up on her stomach, but offering her a soft, albeit curious look and smile, once she was on her back, cracking her eyes open to look up at him. "Hi."
"Hi," Elena replied, lifting a slender bruised hand of her own to rub at her beautiful face, in an attempt to further wake herself.
"I'm sorry to wake you," Phil immediately apologized, before his brow furrowed afresh. "But, may I ask why you're in bed with me?"
Elena's own dark brow furrowed, but only for a split second, until she remembered the events of at least an hour or so again, judging by the fact it was still in the dead of night, even without looking over at the nearest clock. "Oh! Uh. . . " Laughing softly, her dark eyes sparkled, as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "It's not what you think."
"And what do I think?" inquired Phil, while he too sat up, lifting one leg to rest bent at the knee, which he wrapped his arms around, one hand loosely holding the thick wrist of the other, as he watched her stretch her own limbs up into the air, then twist her body from side to side, getting rid of the usual slumber aches.
"You were having a nightmare," explained Elena, dropping her arms down into her lap, then turning her gaze completely onto him.
"What?" Phil exclaimed in confusion and disbelief.
"Yeah," Elena nodded. "I heard you, from across the hall, in my room. I ran here, expecting to find you getting mauled by a Vampire or something, but you were just twisting and turning in your bed. I climbed in next to you, and tried to wake you up, but you obviously realize by now you didn't. I was able to bring you out of the nightmare though."
Phil's brows remained firmly knitted together, as he turned his head away from looking at her.
"You don't remember anything, do you?" Elena guessed, by the look on his handsome older face.
"N-No, I don't," replied Phil, pausing to lick his lips, which tasted heavily of salt, causing him to realize he must've worked up quite a sweat in the trashing she spoke up. "But I-I shouldn't be surprised. I've been told before, by my Team, that I've woken them in the middle of the night from me having a nightmare."
"Your Team?" Elena asked, as it was the first time she'd heard him speak of anyone from S.H.I.E.L.D. aside from Nick Fury, the Director.
"Yes, I have a small Team of my own," Phil explained, smiling softly, while he finally returned his gentle, albeit tired, blue eyes onto her beautiful face. "Director Fury gave it to me a few months ago. We have a completely renovated, state of the art cargo plane that we use as a mobile base. We call it the BUS."
Elena had to press her lips together to keep back the full brightness of the smile that begged to be set free at his words. "So, in addition to Lola, you have your own Team, and a tricked out plane, but you still argued with me about you being cool earlier?"
Phil couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I suppose it sounds rather silly when you put it like that." Pausing, he flicked a glance down at the bed, then lifted his gaze back to her. "So, is this a Fairy thing? You. . . climbing into bed with me, soothing me out of a nightmare, then falling asleep beside me?"
"I would hope it's a Human decency thing," Elena laughed sweetly, before going on more seriously, after her words caused him to smile slightly. "The truth is, our presence, it's been known to soothe others. Physical contact helps, but just us being near can do a lot. And, with who I am, what I can do, my presence seems to be able to. . . heal minds, at least temporarily. So, it's probably why I was able to bring you out of your dream, and why it hasn't returned so far tonight. Plus, I can sense people's emotions, so I felt the pain you were in, it's what woke me up."
"Wow," Phil breathed. "You just get more and more incredible, don't you?"
Elena laughed softly once more. She wasn't sure if he'd meant to say that, or, if he had, if he knew the what it'd mean, but she appreciated it nonetheless.
"Well, right back at you, A.C.," she replied, and he smiled once more, before she went on. "Why don't you jump in the shower? I'll get some fresh sheets on the bed for you."
Phil flicked a glance down at himself. Now that the confusion was over, he could feel how gross his skin was from sweating so badly during his nightmare, and he was sure he smelled nowhere near as good as Elena always seemingly did.
"That sounds like a good idea to me," he said, chuckling to hide his embarassement. "Thank you, Elena."
"Of course," Elena answered, offering him a fresh soft smile, before watching as Phil climbed out of the bed, flicking a last glance at her, then disappearing into the room's bathroom, the door to which he left slightly ajar, while she soon got to her feet, and began stripping off the sheets and such.
After tossing the soiled bedding into the washer, which was downstairs in a small room that acted as the laundry room off of the kitchen, along with the dryer, both being brand new, Elena returned upstairs, grabbing fresh sheets from the linen closet by Emma's room, before heading into the guest bedroom, flicking on the lights, and nudging the door mostly closed with her foot, then continuing, to place them on the bed.
Looking over, she saw the bathroom door still slightly ajar, enough so that the light from the room spilled out onto the floor in a single beam, while she could just make out the sleeve of the t-shirt Phil had been wearing, causing her to realize he'd tossed his dirty clothes by the entrance, and she wondered if she could grab them, so they could join the sheets in the wash, without him seeing her. He was most likely shielded by the shower curtain, after all.
Taking in a deep breath, Elena padded over to the bathroom, and fell into a crouch, reaching out to grab the sleeve of the t-shirt, then use the hold on that to pull hopefully the entire pile of clothes free, but she overestimated her current strength, and balance, so, when the t-shirt didn't give through the crack in the door as easily as she'd hoped, she found herself falling forward.
Though she managed to put out her free hand in time to stop from hitting the floor, she was now kind of stretched across the open space from the ajar bathroom door, and, when she caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye, she couldn't stop herself from looking over.
While Phil wasn't standing there completely bare to her eyes, he was out of the shower, and dressed from the waist down in fresh boxers and sweatpants, but was just pulling on a new black t-shirt, which Elena had noticed had the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on it, when she took the pile containing the last one down to be washed, giving her a nice view of his bare upper body, which was pleasantly well muscled for an older man, while his chest was naturally dusted with a light layer of hair that had some grey mixed in with the dark blond.
But, before Elena could enjoy the sight for very long, she found her eyes falling upon something that made her brow furrow. Down the center of his back, as he was currently facing away from her, between his shoulder blades, was the angriest scar she'd ever seen. It was red, puffy, raised, and jagged, in that it wasn't one smooth line, but two, one larger than the other, and both curved, meaning whatever did it hadn't been a traditional knife, or a weapon along those lines.
Her horror only rose, when Phil turned, so that he was looking into the bathroom's mirror, causing him to be sideways to her, and she saw, just before he covered his upper body with the new t-shirt, that the same scar was on his front, in between his pectorals. Whatever he'd been stabbed with, had gone all the way through, either from back to front, or front to back, and she couldn't believe he'd survived an injury like that.
Shaking herself out of the pain she felt at the sight of the devastating scar on the man, she swiftly snatched the pile of clothes, then got to her feet, and hurried out of the room as fast as she could, not wanting Phil to come out while she was leaving with his things.
When Elena returned to the guest room Phil was staying in, she found the man back in the main area, the light in the bathroom turned off, and he sent her a soft smile, as she entered, closing the door behind herself until it was just cracked open a bit.
"Would you like some help?" he asked, gesturing at the pile of fresh bedding she'd left, while she took his clothes down to the washer.
"Yes, please," Elena replied, padding over to join him by the bed. "Thank you."
"It's the least I can do," said Phil, grabbing the pillow cases off the top of the pile, then tossing them over to join said items, where Elena had placed them on the chair at the desk in the room. "I did ruin the first set, after all."
"That wasn't your fault, Phil," responded Elena, taking the flat sheet from the stack next, and setting it on the suitcase of the man's he had open near the foot of the bed. "We all have nightmares."
"Unlike me, I'll bet you remember yours," Phil spoke, as he waited for her to shake out the fitted sheet, which was when he took one end of it, and the two began to move to put it into place on opposite sides of the bed.
"Uusually," answered Elena. "But they'll always about one of two people. Sometimes both."
"Who are they?" inquired Phil, while he tucked one corner of the fitted sheet beneath the spot by the nightstand.
"My Mother," Elena replied, pausing, then continuing, with a gentle shake of her slender shoulders. "Or Cullen."
"Who's Cullen?" Phil asked next, though he had a good idea. Not only did it sound like a man's name, but the expression on her beautiful face when she spoke it told him he was someone she'd lost, and most likely loved.
"He was my Mate," Elena said, going on with a soft smile when she saw a look of confusion at the word on Phil's visage. "Uh, it's what Fae call our. . . significant others. We don't believe in boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives. We love freely, sometimes with more than one at once. To us, age is only a number, gender is just different equipment, and love is love no matter how many are involved."
"Oh," Phil responded, not really knowing what to say, though, as time goes on, similar beliefs seemed to be becoming amongst Humans. "So, Cullen was your. . . Mate. Tell me about him."
Elena continued to smile softly, while her mind filled with memories of the man she still loved more than anything. "We met when I was a teenager. I was 15, the same age my Father was when he met with my Mother, and Cullen was 35." She went on, when, again, she saw now a look of shock on Phil's face. "Like I said, age is just a number to us. Besides, this was back in the 1800s, so, if you were a woman, and you weren't married or about to be in your teenage years, you were pretty much considered an old maid."
"And he was a Fae too?" Phil asked, as he and Elena moved to the foot of the bed to do the corners there.
"He was," replied Elena. "We stop aging, physically, at different times. Male Faes tend to age further, physically, before stopping, than Females do. It also depends on your heritage. The more pureblooded you are, the younger you're likely to cease."
"So, you're more pureblooded than Cullen was?" inquired Phil next, straightening up, while Elena turned to fetch the flat sheet.
"My Mother was completely pureblood Fae, since both of her parents were as well, while Bill, of course, was Human, and we assume his parents were too," said Elena, as she unfolded the flat sheet enough to hand one end of it across the bed to Phil. "Cullen's Mother was mostly Fae, and his Father was Human like mine, so, yes, I was more pureblooded than Cullen, which is why I stopped aging physically at about 20, while he continued into his 30s, before ceasing." She playfully rolled her eyes. "It also explains why he was such a hard, stubborn man, who had trouble believing in a lot of things, as he wasn't really raised Fae, like I was."
"Did he fight in the Civil War?" Phil asked, catching the end of the flat sheet she tossed him, then moving with her, as both unfolded it overtop the bed. "Like your Father?"
"He did," nodded Elena, before a soft smile of pride lit up her beautiful face. "Went all the way up to the rank of Lieutenant. His family were wealthy, owned a tobacco plantation." Sighing sadly, she went on. "Unfortunately, his Father, a Colonel, went off to war with him, leaving his Mother alone on the farm with their servants. Enemy soldiers came through one night, and Cullen's Mother was killed, along with their servants, who were former slaves, that they'd actually freed a year before the war, and were paying them wages, giving them proper housing, to continue to work on the plantation after. Cullen and his Father came home to her hanging from the porch, while the servants had all been locked in the barn, which was then set on fire, burning them alive."
Phil's eyes widened in horror at her words. Depiste having been a history buff in school, which seemed so long ago, especially considering it was before he went to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, learning about things like the Civil War through books and such is nothing compared to hearing first hand accounts.
"Cullen and his Father, who's name was William, just like mine, buried them, hired new workers, then went on," Elena continued. "Though Cullen hated being a farmer, and he wanted revenge for his Mother's death."
"I can understand that," Phil said, as he and Elena tucked the flat sheet beneath the mattress, though not too tightly, since they'd be returning to bed once this was done. "Did he ever get it?"
Elena's dark brown eyes flashed with pain for a brief second, before she nodded, while mustering up the strongest smile she could. "Yes, he did."
"I'm sorry, Elena," replied Phil, straightening up, when they completed that task. "We don't have to talk about Cullen anymore, if it's causing you pain."
"It's all right, A.C.," Elena reassured, smiling more brightly at him, before gesturing behind his body at the pillows and the pillowcases. "Would you get those?"
Phil followed her indication, and, upon seeing what she meant, turned to move the couple of steps over to get them, soon returning to the bed with the items, which he placed on its top, giving them both two pillows to dress.
"If that's the case," Phil spoke up. "May I ask where he is now?"
Elena paused, as she held the open end of the pillow case, and gave it a few firm shakes, to get the pillow all the way down inside it, before smiling softly once more across at the man. "He's gone. He died a little over a year ago."
"I'm so sorry, Elena," Phil almost perfectly repeated, even as he realized what that meant, that Elena had been with the man for about 150 years. "He was a lucky man though, to live, and with you at his side, for so long."
"Thank you," Elena replied, her smile genuinely brightening at his words, a gesture he returned, before they both fell silent, as they finished up with the bed, which was when she spoke once more. "Well, I'll let you get back to sleep."
"Are you not staying?" Phil found himself inexplicably blurting out, when she turned to walk over to the door.
Biting back a brilliant smile, Elena shifted on her feet to face him once more. "Did you want me to stay, A.C.?"
"Well," Phil shrugged, sheepishly, thankful for the somewhat darkness of the room, to hide the flush he was sure had risen up in his cheeks, upon realization of what he'd said. "You do keep the nightmares away. And, I don't know about you, but I don't fancy having to make this bed again." He gestured at the item as he spoke.
Elena let her bright smile free at that, and, after flicking a glance at the bed, returned her gaze to Phil, then nodded.
"All right," she said. "I'll sleep with you."
"Stop that," Phil replied, sending her a look, though it was mostly playful, as she walked back over to the side of the bed she'd previously been on, and the two turned down the flat sheet enough to climb in, then settle.
"Well," Elena spoke, once they were comfortable in their positions, she laying on her side facing him, while he was on his back, but turned his head against the pillow to look at her. "Goodnight, A.C. Pleasant dreams."
"Goodnight, Elena," chuckled Phil, and the two shared a last smile, before Elena was the first to close her eyes, something he soon followed suit in doing.
Western Utah, Near the Colorado Territory Border - Fall, 1865
"Elena," spoke Cullen in his deep, gruff Southern accented voice, as he sat beside her slumbering form in their bed in their train car, one large warm rough limb resting on her slender back. He being the Chief Engineer of the Union Pacific Railroad certainly had its perks, such as the two of them having their own private caboose, which Elena had furnished and decorated in luxury, making it even nicer than Thomas "Doc" Durant's, who was the President of the UPR, and therefor had his own expensive train car, that actually had a locomotive cab attached to it, making it mobile. "Elena. Come on, sweetheart. It's time to wake up."
Theirs had two rooms. The front, which was the bigger of the two, acted as the bedroom, living space, dining area, and office, while the back room was the bathroom and closet space, separated from the front by a wall, and a curtain for privacy, while all of the windows had drapes, Cullen made sure of that. He didn't want lonely railroad workers looking in on his beautiful young Mate.
Elena was laying on her stomach, her slender arms hugging the pillow her head was resting on, while the covers were up to just below her shoulders, and she moaned softly, as the feeling of Cullen's warm strong hand resting on her slender back, in addition to the sound of his deep voice, brought her out of her slumber.
Turning over onto her back, Cullen's hand trailed from it, to her side, then came to rest on her stomach, which he began absently rubbing through the material of the white tunic of his that she used as a bedshirt, while she stretched, and rubbed her eyes.
"Mornin'," he said, unable to help smiling softly at the sight of her first thing.
Looking up at him, a bright smile lit up her beautiful face, and she sat up, wrapping her slender arms around his neck, then capturing his beard surrounded lips with her own lush set in an immediately fierce and passionate kiss.
"Mm," Cullen moaned in delightful surprise against her lips, while his large hand returned to her back, splaying across the slender area, as he kissed her in return with everything she poured into it.
Pulling away just enough to look at him, Elena sent him a fresh bright smile, while her delicate fingers started twirling around his dark near shoulder length locks. "Morning."
"What was that for?" asked Cullen, even as he lifted his hand from her back, as his other was holding his hat against his knee, to brush some of her own stray tresses back from her beautiful face, not that either needed a reason to lavish the other with sudden affection.
"I missed you," Elena replied, shrugging her slender shoulders.
"I's only gone for a few hours, darlin'," Cullen said, speaking of how he'd had to leave just as the two had been getting ready for bed, in order to help with a situation at the new building site up ahead.
"That doesn't mean I can't miss you," responded Elena.
Cullen leaned forward, and rubbed his nose against hers. "That's true. Mm." Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her lips, before pulling back once more. "Come on. We gotta get out to the bridge site."
Standing up, he took Elena's hand in his, turning back to face her after a second, which was when he reached out, and dropped his hat onto her head, the item being too big for her.
"Come on, Ms. Collins," chuckled Cullen, though he maintained a bit of the authority in his voice he uses with the men, while she adorably scrunched up her face in unhappiness at having the large hat on. "It's another beautiful day on the Railroad."
Groaning, Elena laid back down onto the bed, using a hand to lift up Cullen's hat, as she shot its owner a look. "I hate morning people."
Cullen could only laugh once more, especially when she used his hat to cover her beautiful face, then settle in to appear to be going back to sleep, causing him to reach out, and snatch the item up.
"Come on, girl!" he exclaimed, playfully swatting her on the butt, when she rolled over onto her side, away from him, and hugged his pillow over there. "Get up! We got work to do!"
Another deep chuckle rumbled up from his broad muscled chest, as her response was to merely hold up her nearest arm, and extend her middle finger toward the ceiling at him.
"I love you too, baby," Cullen said, while he put his hat back on his head, then turned to leave the train car, knowing she would get up, and get ready to go.
Not an hour later, Cullen and Elena were loaded into the camp's trains, in the rear cabin, with four of the railroad workers, including Gregory Toole, an Irishman, who was also the Foreman, while others road on or in attached cars, and further more followed after in wagons, and on horses, as they made their way to the gorge where they were soon going to start building the first bridge, in order to connect the railroad to the Colorado Territory, and bring them closer to the Rocky Mountains.
Emma and her Mate, Dr. James Shannon, a fellow Irishman, whom those closest to him merely called "Shannon", were behind at camp, as was Eva, Mr. Toole's wife, who'd previously been one of the Railroad's whores, and, before that, had been kidnapped by Indians, after they killed her family, who'd marked her face, specifically the area beneath her bottom lip, with a tattoo that showed her "worth" of two horses and three blankets. She was a beautiful woman nonetheless, with waist length raven curls, stunning blue-green eyes, a curvaceous figure, and milky white pale skin, while Gregory was an older man, mid 40s, with not much height, a bit of a gut, matching dark unkept hair and beard, and unruly teeth, from having been shot in the mouth, and through to the back of his neck. A wound he miraculously survived. His own orbs were quite stunning though, a sapphire blue in color, that was so prominent, you could almost see them even in the dead of night.
In addition to the Railroad's other employees still back at town, as was Durant, a man named Elam Ferguson, who was half white, half black, a former slave, and now a sort of private gunslinger for the UPR President, a young woman named Ruth, who ran the Church, especially now that she sent away her Father, the Reverend, as he was a drunk, her adopted brother and now lover, Joseph, who was a former Cheyenne Indian, and two Irish brothers, Mickey and Sean McGinnes, who had several businesses in the camp, their latest of which being taking on the whorehouse.
There was one other back in town, that Cullen and Elena, as well as Emma and Shannon, wanted nothing to do with, and his name was Thor Gunderson. He was often called "The Swede", despite being Norwegian, and, when the four of them had originally joined the Railroad, the tall, skinny, pale, black haired man had been the Chief of Security, but, after taking advantage of one too many people when it came to their rent in the camp, was tarred and feathered by a mod, led by Micky and Sean, and, as a result, Durant had lowered his Station down to the man who deals with the dead, and also cleans up after others, such as emptying their chamber pots.
Everyone knew the Swede, who had always been creepy, but was now slowly, but surely, descending into some kind of state of madness, hated Cullen, blaming him for everything that was done to him, as it was the Chief Engineer that had begun the problems against the man, starting by murdering the Railroad's initial Foreman, as he turned out to be one of the soldiers responsible for the death of Cullen's Mother, which Gunderson was never able to prove Elena's Mate had done, even Durant didn't care, since Cullen was his Chief Engineer, the best worker he had, and the only one he couldn't afford to lose, but there wasn't much to be done about it.
Sean had even offered to pay Cullen to kill the Swede, though he refused, saying he wasn't no gunslinger, but provided the Irishman the information that Gunderson was spying on Durant for the people back home, such as a Senator, who didn't want him as the President of the Union Pacific, eventually leading to the aforementioned public humiliation.
"You all right, darlin'?" Cullen asked Elena, from his position in the chair by the caboose's back door, drinking a cup of tea, which was an amusing sight on all its own, as she stood on the other side of the seat next to the table where the drinks were, gazing out at the land that passed by the moving train.
"Yes," Elena replied, seemingly snapping out of her thoughts at the sound of her Mate's beloved deep voice. Truthfully, she had something on her mind, but now was not the time to discuss it, namely as they were not alone in the train car.
Cullen sighed. He knew her, and therefor he could tell something was wrong, but he too knew it had to wait, so he set his cup of tea down, then sat up, uncrossing his leg from resting on the other, by way of his ankle being over the top of his head. "Come here."
Moving away from the window, Elena walked over to where Cullen sat, and happily allowed his large, rough, somewhat dirty hands to encircle her small waist, then use the hold to draw her down into his lap.
While Cullen wore his usual attire; scuffed up dark brown boots that went to just below his knees, black pants, a white Henley, a long sleeve faded blue button down, the latter two of which he had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a dimming leather vest, along with his Cowboy hat; Elena was in an outfit all her own.
In the beginning, she'd been good, had worn dresses, or tunics and skirts, or even small sized men's clothing, all of which she would still occasionally do, but now she more often than not bought fabric, and fashioned her own clothes, something all in the camp were now accustomed to.
Today, she had on a black short sleeved shirt, and deep blue pants that came to halt at almost mid calf, while her feet were clad in white socks, and shoes, both of which ended at her ankles. It had been, and still was, controversial, and when she'd first started doing it, Cullen had been angry, saying keeping her safe on the Railroad was already hard enough, as she was a beautiful young woman, and a proper Lady, unlike the Whores. Emma would too wear the clothes her cousin made, but she was usually tucked away with Shannon, while Elena was always out in the open.
Being Cullen's "woman" was more than enough of a title to keep her safe though, as all of the men either feared or respected the Chief Engineer, or both, and only the really foolish, and/or the really drunk, ever tried anything against her, which was why Cullen had taught Elena well in not only the handling and firing of weapons, but also hand to hand combat. And while he still maintained that the Railroad was no place for a Lady, especially his Lady, he knew she could take care of herself, though that never stopped him from worrying, nor being extremely protective of her.
Cullen was no fool. He knew how lucky he was to have a beautiful young woman as his Mate. And he loved her more than anything. He also knew how foolish it sounded for him to think he shouldn't have someone like Elena, he was a very handsome man after all; not that he was one of those self centered men who either knew how good looking they were, or made up for the lack of it with their money and power, as Durant did; truly physically stunning for a male: tall, with a muscular physic, gorgeous blue-green eyes, a deep, gruff voice, and even the long hair and beard somehow worked on him the way it did no other man, but he sometimes believed himself unworthy of her.
She was so young, so good, she had a heart big enough for the whole World, and he was a murderer, there was no way around it. He may have had no choice in the matter, when he went off to war, but he's killed men since then, mainly those he'd found who'd been responsible for his Mother's death, while the others were gunslingers, outlaws, rustlers, or Indians, and Hell On Wheels may be a war in and of itself, he believed, but he knew a majority of those killings hadn't been absolutely necessary, they'd simply been easy.
Bowing his head, Cullen pressed a kiss to Elena's slender shoulder, through the material of her black t-shirt, before resting his bearded chin there, as she began absently stroking his hands with her own, soon curling her delicate fingers up slightly, so that she could lightly graze the backs of the limbs with her fingertips in both sweet and pleasurable feather soft touches.
She loved his hands. She loved men's hands in general. It was just one of the parts of their bodies that she found the most attractive. And Cullen's were beautiful. They were large, warm, and rough from a lifetime of farming, fighting the war, and now building the railroad, but were infinity gentle when it came to her. His fingernails were naturally kept short, and therefor held dirt around them, but she didn't care. He was her rugged, handsome Cowboy, and she loved every single thing about him. Just as he loved her more than anything, she loved him more than anything.
"I'm gonna make it up to you, you know," Cullen said, almost directly into her ear, as he lifted his head up enough from her shoulder shoulder so that speaking wasn't awkward, and he sent her a smirk, when she turned her own head to look over at him. "For being away from you last night."
"Is that so, Mr. Bohannon?" replied Elena, quirking her dark brow, while a bright smile tugged at the corners of her lush pink lips, and she lifted her arms, in order to wrap them around his neck, as she shifted slightly in his lap to better face him, causing him to secure his own well muscled limbs more tightly around her tiny waist.
"That is so, Ma'am," Cullen answered, his smirk brightening, before he leaned in, and kissed her, sweetly at first, but soon passionately, ignoring the chuckles of Mr. Toole and the other three men nearby, as he did so.
When the train arrived at the new construction site, everyone began to unload. There was only a few feet of laid Railroad in front of them, the rest still had to be built, in addition to the bridge across the nearby gorge, and, while all were getting their barrings, it allowed those traveling by horse and wagon to catch up.
"All right! Move your carcasses!" Mr. Toole called out to the men in his heavy Irish accented voice, as he was the first off their train car, followed by the other three men, then Cullen and Elena.
Elena exited first, while Cullen followed after her, putting his hat on, before he lifted a large hand to her slender back, and guided her after the men, toward the end of the line.
"You lot, for the gorge, make room for one more," Mr. Tool said to some men who were piling into a small wagon, before turning to look out at the rest of the workers. "As for the rest of you jackanapes, I expect to be able to walk a mile of rail by the time I get back from me lunch break!"
"I like Mr. Toole," Elena spoke to Cullen, unable to help smiling brightly at the Irishman's words to his men, who all grumbled under their breath at him.
"He's defiantly got what it takes to be a good Foreman," replied Cullen. "Plus it don't hurt the bastard's tough as nails, survivin' getting shot in the head while out in Indian territory."
"How many more men do we have coming?" Elena asked, as she flicked a glance over everyone present, and began absently counting them in her head.
"46 within an hour," answered Cullen. "Another 20 after that."
His last word trailed off however, when the air and the chatter of the men were pierced by the sudden sound of a man screaming, which caused Cullen to instinctively move his hand off of Elena's back, in favor of gripping her slender upper arm, prepared to throw her behind him in the face of a danger, while their brows both furrowed, as they, and everyone else, came to a halt, then began looking around for the source of the horrible sound.
Elena and Cullen stepped around the front of the train that had brought them here, and Elena's beautiful face fell, while Cullen's became more serious, when they saw just what it was.
Up on a hill, several yards away from the Railroad, a man was tied to a pair of decorated posts fashioned into an "X", while small fires burned around him, as he was skinned alive by two Sioux Indians, screaming and sobbing in unbelievable pain.
"Oh, my gosh," Elena breathed, as she raised a slender hand to touch her lips, while Cullen's instinct remained to push her behind him, though now to shield her from seeing anything more, but he knew that was pointless.
Everyone rushed over the railroad, and some crowded up by a mounted spyglass that Elena had left here for herself and the surveyors, of which she was kind of one. She did so many different jobs, the only two she naturally didn't partake in being Whoring and the actual building of the track.
"That's got to be Fleming," spoke up Mr. Toole, as Cullen was the first to look through the spyglass.
"The Sentry?" Cullen asked, to which the Irishman nodded, while Elena took her turn gazing through the advanced sight.
It was truly a horrible scene to behold. The Indians had been a contact obstacle and threat throughout the entire construction process, different tribes in different areas, enraged over the White Man building on what they considered to be their sacred land, and many men, as well as women, had been killed, scalped, raped, skinned alive, fed to wild animals, etc., but seeing one of those terrible fates unfolding right before your eyes was quite different, and Elena watched, as the man who worked for the Railroad, had chucks and sections of flesh cut off by the sharp blades of the Sioux.
Straightening up, Elena lifted her rich dark chocolate hued eyes to Cullen. "You need to do something."
He met her gaze with his own blue-green one at her words, which he knew to be true. It really had nothing to do with the fact that he's killed before, or that he's dealt with the Indians before. Hell, Elena's done both, unfortunately. It was because Cullen was Cullen. He was the Chief Engineer, and, therefor, everyone's Boss, aside from Durant's, sure, but it was mainly due to the fact that all of the men present either heavily feared or heavily respected him, or both, that was the reason he needed to be the one to handle this situation.
"Stay here," Cullen said to Elena, and she nodded in agreement and understanding, before watching, as he began walking further ahead, while she did as he said, staying back with the men, which included another friend of theirs, seemingly leader of the Freedmen, also known as the ex-slaves, Psalms Jackson.
He didn't get more than a few feet however, when the ridge the hill was on suddenly spouted more Sioux, these armed with rifles, which they began promptly firing at Cullen, as well as the group behind him. Thankfully, they were far out of range, and Cullen stopped to observe just where their bullets were reaching at their furthest point, which was a skinny, naked, fallen tree not much further ahead of him, his brows knitted in concentration, before he turned his head, and called back to the workers, who were instinctively ducking under the gunfire, while the horses began neighing and rearing up a bit in fright.
"Bring me the long rifle!" Cullen called to them, as he shifted to the side, and lifted up one of his legs, before bringing it down hard, doing so a few times, to use the heel of his boot to mark a spot in the ground.
"There's too many! They got the high ground!" Mr. Toole exclaimed in response, even as Elena, and another man, began back toward the train to fetch the requested weapon. "If you keep 'em occupied, we can loop back, and try and outflank 'em!"
"Damn it, I said bring me the long rifle right now!" Cullen shouted in anger and impatience.
Elena stood on one side of the tracks, as the worker who'd gone back with her grabbed the gun from the train car it was in, then held out an arm, when the man re-emerged with the weapon, which he swiftly tossed the short distance to her.
Effortlessly catching it with one hand, Elena turned, and ran across the grass, then up to Cullen, giving him the long rifle.
"Baby, get back," Cullen said to her, after he took the weapon from her hand, and she did as he said, swiftly heading back to where the men were gathered by the spyglass.
Cullen held up a fistful of dry grass, then released it, showing the Indians where he was, before he fell to one knee, and took aim with the long rifle, while Elena crouched down, in order to look through the enhanced sight, watching as the Sioux tossed the strips of skin they took from the Railroad worker into the fire.
Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, while they waited for Cullen to do whatever he was going to do, and silence fell on the land, the air only penetrated by the echoing screams of the man being tortured up on the hill.
Cullen rested an elbow on his bent knee, and gazed through the weapon's scope at the horrible scene ahead, licking his lips, as he carefully took aim, and the brief few seconds it took for him to fire seemed to stretch into an eternity, before he ultimately squeezed the trigger.
All watched in surprise and horror, aside from Elena, the only one there who truly knew Cullen, as he shot Fleming, the Railroad worker being skinned alive, right in the center of the forehead, killing him instantly, while the action sent the Indians scattering in fear, and the man's body soon slumped forward against the binds that held it to the fashioned "X".
"He shot Fleming!" one worker exclaimed, while Elena felt a now familiar tug at her heart, as the man's life was ended.
She knew it was necessary. Cullen had put the man out of his misery. He was being skinned alive, after all. And there was no way they were going to be able to save him. Even if they had, by some miracle, he would've died from blood loss, shock, and/or infection anyway. It was a mercy killing. But she also knew the workers, especially the Irish, weren't going to be able to see it that way.
Placing his hat back on, an item he'd removed in order to have the best view through the scope to take the shot, Cullen lowered his head for a few seconds, before rising to his booted feet, turning, and heading back toward the group, long rifle in hand, while he kept his eyes on Elena, hating having to look at her after just killing a man, but needing and trusting her to be his strength right now, as he just couldn't look at any of the others.
- Author's Note - Well, guys, there you go! I added pictures of all of the 'Hell On Wheels' characters mentioned to my Profile, so be sure to go check them out, if you're not already familiar with them, and don't forget to review! I especially want to hear what you thought of the first flashbacks to Cullen and the Railroad. :)