Twenty minutes after Heyes had left, the Kid climbed a little reluctantly out of bed. He pulled on his shirt and fastened the lower buttons, mostly just to cover the bruising in case Heyes came back, reluctant to expose himself again to his friend's sympathetic gaze. He picked up the gun, which felt reassuringly heavy in his hand. He sat down on the chair and carefully removed the splint from his wrist and unwrapped the bandages. The bruising had darkened to a spectacular rainbow mix of colours, but on closer inspection he could see the swelling was less. He tentatively moved it and winced at the pain, but even that was a little better.
The Kid stared out of the window onto the quickly filling street. As he watched the bustling scene, his mind strayed to his café encounter with the guards. He replayed it in his head, in an attempt to figure out why he'd not spoken up and instead left his partner to deal with them, which led onto him wondering why he now felt the need to skulk in the room, as Heyes had so pointedly put it. He didn't think it'd been fear, as it hadn't felt that way and in fact still didn't. Even the painfully fresh memory of being so helpless and exposed, probably wouldn't have been enough to stop him reacting, or make him reluctant to be out and about today either. So there had to be something else. After a few more minutes of thinking, memory flooded him and the reason suddenly became crystal clear to him,and he felt a little sick as it sunk in. He'd not stood up for himself in prison, for Jake maybe, but never for himself. He'd not been strong when it mattered, and therefore had surely lost the right to stand up for himself now when circumstances were better.
He looked down at the gun by his right hand and sighed. People had sometimes accused him of hiding behind his fast draw and accuracy with a gun. He'd always been certain they were wrong, but he had instead proved them right. For Heyes' sake, if not his own, he'd have to carry on using his gun as protection, which somehow left a slightly bitter taste in his mouth as it felt like cowardice now. But he had to live with the unpleasant truth of who he was, best he could, so he took a deep breath and let the reality settle. As he did so, he realised that the guards had been right, he really did smell.
After a few minutes of indecision, he decided he desperately needed a bath and pulled himself reluctantly out of his chair. After gathering the rest of his clothes slowly together, he finished dressing fully with little enthusiasm, before walking down the stairs to the reception area.
He hovered a little uncertainly at the empty desk for a few minutes. He was about to retreat back to the room to wait for Heyes to return, when the clerk came through the door behind the desk and greeted him with a slightly apologetic smile. " Hope you've not been waiting long. It's Mr Curry, yes? Room 6. How can I help?"
Curry found the politeness a little dis concerting after over a year of being spoken to like he belonged in an outhouse privy. For a moment he found it difficult to reply, but quickly telling himself to get a grip, he cleared his throat and returned the smile. "A bath please."
The desk clerk nodded. "Mr Heyes figured you'd be asking for one today. I'll get one prepared for you. It'll be ready to be sent up in about fifteen minutes."
Curry nodded his thanks and returned to the room to wait. Heyes had thought of everything. When the bath arrived, Heyes still hadn't returned and the Kid had nothing to tip the men with. However to his surprise, they didn't appear to expect one and the Kid thought Heyes must have arranged that too. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, but it had certainly saved some awkwardness.
He undressed slowly and was embarrassed, despite being alone, when he found himself eyeing the water in some trepidation. The memory of too many cold forced baths making him feel a little reluctant. He sighed in frustration and a wave of inadequacy swept over him. Hell, here he was, nervous about a damn bath.
A tentative sniff of his armpit made him wince and shaking his head he swore at himself and slid into the bath quickly. A contented sigh, tinged with relief escaped as he sank down into gloriously warm, slightly scented soapy water.
He was dozing, when the door lock rattled and Heyes entered accompanied by the smell of oatmeal. "I brought you some breakfast."
The Kid turned to look at his partner as his stomach rumbled in response to the delicious smell. Heyes was carrying some small packages under his left arm and a covered bowl in his right hand. He didn't bother to try and get out of the bath as Heyes handed him the bowl. He expected some sarcasm, but instead he just earnt a smile as Heyes turned away. "I bought you something different to wear, because San Francisco is an awful long way to be in close quarters when your partner has just one set of clothes."
The Kid finished eating the oatmeal and resisted licking the bowl clean. He laid the empty bowl on the chair and after a quick glance to check Heyes was turned away he stood carefully out of the bath and wrapped a couple of towels round himself as he sat on the bed to get dried.
Heyes turned to him with a bottle of something in his hand and waved it at him. "Got this from the general store too, owner says it'll help with that bruising on your arm and back." He looked down at the writing and then back up. "It's called 'Nine Oils'."
The Kid took a breath and continued to dry himself carefully, wishing Heyes would just leave it be. Heyes taking the silence as it was intended sighed and harrumphed. "I ain't asking you to talk about it, just want you to stop pretending that it isn't there or you're gonna be real uncomfortable on our trip west."
The Kid had to accept the wisdom of that and held out his hand. "All right, Heyes." Heyes handed him the bottle with a cloth wrapped round it, and with a smothered groan, the Kid started to rub it on his wrist and the areas he could reach. It felt warm and made his skin tingle, but not unpleasantly. After a few moments the throbbing in his wrist and back began to ease and he had to acknowledge that Heyes had a point.
"Now I'm just going to go buy those train tickets and return this bowl. I won't be long." He bent to pick the bowl from the chair and re-covered it.
A few minutes after the door shut firmly behind Heyes, the Kid stood slowly to dress. He knew that Heyes had left to give him some privacy, a gift to savour after spending so many months under almost constant supervision. He pulled on the pants and shirt Heyes had brought him, over the brand new long johns. As he fastened the jeans he felt a weight in the back pocket and investigated. He pulled out a new wallet and saw that it held six crisp twenty dollar bills. As he stuck it back into his pocket, he felt a strange mix of both gratitude and embarrassment. There was something in the gesture that only highlighted what was an unfamiliar inequality between them, but he could only appreciate the tact with which Heyes had handled it.
XXX
Heyes was shaving when he became aware that the Kid was watching him from the bed, with a strange expression on his face. It wasn't exactly fear, but rather an odd mix of both pain and wistfulness.
"Kid?" when Heyes got no response, he realised that his friend was somewhere else and by that look, Heyes could guess exactly where, so he tried again a little louder. "Jed?"
That brought Curry out of his strange reverie and he pulled himself back to the present. "I'm sorry Heyes, what did you say?"
"I was just gonna ask if you wanted me to shave you. I know it won't be easy for you with your wrist all bruised and you're looking like you need one. I shoulda asked after your bath yesterday."
Despite the strange look he'd observed, the brief panic that flashed across Kid's face still startled him as did the vehement. "No!" that burst out surprising them both.
They'd shaved each other before on more than one occasion, when illness or injury had made it hard for the other to do it well or safely and Heyes had always prided himself on the fact that he did a good job. So he felt a little resentment at the Kid's reaction to his offer.
His face must have shown some of what he was feeling as Kid said. "It ain't that I don't trust you, Heyes. It's just.." He trailed off and Heyes held his breath, hoping for some revelation and was relieved when Kid continued. "Every week after we was forced to bathe in cold water the guards shaved us. They didn't ever let us dress just shackled us to a chair. They weren't real careful."
"You know I ain't never cut you yet, Kid!"
Heyes didn't know why it had suddenly become so important that Kid let him do this, but he was determined to persuade him now.
"I ain't sure, Heyes, maybe I should just wait till I can do it myself."
"Kid, you're gonna look like one of them grizzled old miners if you wait that long."
The Kid sighed and wearily brushed his left hand over his forehead. "Don't know why it's so important to you. But all right if you insist."
Heyes felt a little guilty at the resignation in his friend's voice but refused to back down and turned away to get the stuff he needed.
When he was done, the Kid was already sat in front of the mirror, all stiff limbed and reluctant. Heyes nearly gave in, but instead ploughed on, feeling a bit of a heel. "Relax."
Heyes began to carefully shave his friend, always making sure Kid was ready before he did anything. By the end of the process his partner was relaxed enough that his eyes were half-closed and he looked so content that Heyes almost expected him to start purring. He allowed himself some smugness at pushing, especially when Kid opened his eyes and flashed him a bright smile.
"Oh before I forget, Kid. You'll need a hat!"
Heyes handed his friend the last item he'd bought for him before his release. Kid studied it in silence before placing it on his head and looking in the mirror. He swallowed hard and said with a casualness that didn't hide his genuine pleasure. "Heyes, this ain't half-bad. Wish you showed as good taste when you buy your own."
XXX
The Kid and Heyes watched as the train came into view, right on time for a change. "I got us second class tickets. Got seats we can stretch out on. Quieter too." He glanced down at the tickets in his hand. "Carriage B, nine and ten. Should be able to change our shirts at least while we're travelling."
They easily found their seats and the Kid was relieved to find that their carriage was almost empty, because the snugness and the noise of the third class carriage had set his nerves jangling a little.
After they'd stored their bags and settled onto the comfortable seats, Heyes glanced at him, his eyes narrowing in some concern. "You still look tired."
The Kid nodded his agreement, tiredness still dogged him, though the bath and shave had helped a lot. "If you don't mind, Heyes. I think I'm gonna nap." If Heyes did mind he'd try and stay awake. But Heyes only grinned at him. "So long as you don't snore too loud, Kid."
The train steamed out of the station and the Kid let himself be lulled by the steady drumming of the track, and the proximity of his partner. He was asleep even before the track widened into open country.