A/N: Yep, that's right. Two chapters in a week. I'm pretty astonished with myself too. Basically I'd written the first part of Chapter 7., decided I didn't like how it was going, then started on this chapter, intending for it to be #7. Then I looked back at the old #7 and realized that it wasn't too bad. So I finished it up no prob, got in the mood, and finished this one up as well.

"You ready, kid?"

Duo didn't bother to turn his head. "I think so. "

A grizzled, wire tough man clucked his horse forward to the top of the bluff, sliding off when he reached the twelve year old. He gingerly sat down, joints making a groaning noise. "If this Wild West show doesn't work out, you can always come back here. You've always got a home."

After wiping his wet cheeks on his sleeves, Duo turned his head to look Howard in the eye. "Are you sure I can go? You've done everything for me, I want to make sure that you can afford to let me go do this. You've done so much, I have to pay you back-"

"Kid, I'll be fine. The ranch'll be fine. And you've done more for me than I could have ever dreamed of." The old hand took out his pipe, carefully lighting the tobacco inside and taking a deep drag. "When the Maxwell missionary burned down, I know that it was a catastrophe for ya'. But fer me? It gave me a chance to have you around. And I'm thankful fer that. So just go and do what you want to, because you deserve it."

"I wish I was born as your son, Howard."

"Don't matter, Duo. Yer already my kid." He stood slowly, tousling Duo's thick brown hair. "Now take Cynthia and find your place in the world, kid."

The bonfire was raging, the men were drunk, and even Trowa was a bit tipsy. Jorge stood unsteadily and shushed the group, yelling at them for order. "You damned puntas, listen for a second, will ya?!" A few of the men muttered obstinately but they all eventually quieted down.

Jorge continued, raising his flask of home made wine. "Now, we all know that our escuincle(1) is moving on in the world." He waited for the cheers to die down before continuing. "Trowa's going to that Wild West show, and I just want to say that we'll miss him. He's been one of our finest banditos, and I'll be damned if we won't miss him. Mestizo or not, he's been just as dedicated to the cause of liberating Mexico from the gringos!" He again waited for the cheers to die down before slipping the holster off of his own chest and handing it to Trowa. "Find your place in the world, kid."

Fort Kearney buzzed with movement like some oversized hornet's nest. The cavalry men which held the American West into a civilized land were based here, as were their countless horses and families. A whole society had been formed around this heavily armed policing force, and their home had become the Shangri La for local merchants to sell their wares. After all, where else was there to go?

And for the countless cattle herds that passed by, the fort had become the place to go to for information and fresh food and provisions. It was for this reason, combined with a mighty thorough weariness that Zechs decided to rest the cattle and hands for a day and let his cook head up to the fort.

Wufei had been up early that morning, lightening the wagon's load. Not only did he need more room for the surplus goods, but his mules could use the easier day of work. And as he worked, he didn't fail to notice that the only other person up and awake was Quatre. And in need of a companion, he invited Quatre to join him, all the while wondering about his early waking.

He neglected to bring up the topic till they reached the fort and the general store. After all, tensions around camp would surely only rise further if he was seen talking with Trowa's beau, and during the trip to the fort, Quatre slipped in and out of cat naps, never seeming to wake up any more relaxed.

The rumble of the crowd of people roused the blonde, who sat up groggily from the wagon. His voice thick with sleep, he asked, "We're here?"

"We're here." Wufei pulled his team towards the general store, sliding off the buckboard and attaching their halters to the hitching post. "Going to come in with me?"

"What else am I to do? Besides, standing outside here in my buckskins doesn't seem to be the smartest thing to do." Quatre gave him a wry smile. "Not among soldiers."

Wufei nodded, motioning for Quatre to follow as he entered the dusty shop. Crammed with goods, the store held everything necessary for life on the frontier. Sturdy calico fabrics hung to one side, precious needles and thread beside them. Barrels of salt pork kept well no matter the conditions so when game was scarce, salt pork was easy protein. Hundreds of wagon parts and farming equipment took up a good deal of the store which made a great deal of sense since if your wagon was broken, you could go nowhere.

"Alright. Quatre, look through the supplies and see if an axel lip made out of ash timber." Wufei commanded as he went to the flour, carefully weighing out the necessary amount. Flour was vital for a drive. Not only was it a decent source of vitamin C, but eggs and other delicate foodstuffs could be packed inside flour and never be damaged. The only downside to flour was its price, so Wufei made sure to measure out only what he needed.

Quatre returned with the needed axel lip and was soon loaded down with the bag of flour, along with a bag of sugar. However, there was still a lot more to hold and he followed Wufei diligently as the cook went through the store's inventory. "You slept quite a bit on the way here."

Quatre nodded, eyeing some pelts hung up on the far wall. "I've been having some… interesting dreams lately." In went bullets and gunpowder, lard and dried fruit and the ever present whiskey.

"Dreams?" Wufei's voice betrayed a hint of doubt.

"I see Zechs walking across a field in a cavalry uniform. He's crying, and with every step everything behind him withers up and dies." Scrap fabric was bought for bandages and lye soap which burned the skin but worked.

A bottle of iodine was added for an antiseptic and a small bag of rock candy was added to ensure mental sanity for the cow hands. "That's a disturbing dream, but why loose sleep over it?"

Quatre shifted the weight of the goods around a little, nibbling on his lower lip. "I don't know. It almost feels like prophecy, but I don't know why the spirits put Zechs into my dream. His presence just doesn't make any sense."

Wufei eyed him incredulously. "You think that it's an omen?"

"Of course. The spirits have talked to me all my life, there's no reason for them to stop now."

Shaking his head, the cook examined a rasp for his knife. "I wouldn't hold that much regard for a dream, Quatre. Dreams are just mush that you come up with when you're not fully there. I dreamt that Shenlong could talk like my grandmother, does that mean that I saw the future?"

Pursing his lips, Quatre shook his head. "Just… stop. I respect you, and I'd like to not have you say something that would ruin that."

Wufei shook his head, yet took his goods to the front counter. The owner of the store began to add up their bill, asking offhandedly. "Heard about the latest skirmish with the soldiers?"

Quatre tensed beside him but thankfully kept his mouth shut. "No, what happened?" Wufei asked, face carefully set into a poker face.

"Those bastard Pawnee raided the fort's cattle herd and the Generals had enough, I 'spose. The regiment attacked and wiped the bastards out." The store keeper grinned wide. "Just like a bunch of rats."

And just like that, Quatre's world crashed to pieces. He turned and flew out of that damnable store, going to the wagon and grabbing for that rifle, fully intending to blow off every soldier's goddamned head and make their families feel what he people were feeling-

"Quatre, no. You can't do this."

He whipped around to face Wufei, who'd slammed the rifle down onto the bottom of the wagon. "Like hell I can't! You heard that man, they killed my people without a second damned thought! What was it he said? Like rats?!"

"It's deplorable. I won't disagree with you on that. But all you'll be doing is getting yourself killed, and give them another damned excuse to kill Indians!"

Eyes wild like a cornered cat, Quatre leaned in, getting into Wufei's space with face stained with pure, unadulterated fury. "You traitor to your race, I would have expected at least you to understand what a scourge the white man is! The white man will never accept you, no matter how white you act, to them you're always a god damned disgusting chink. Yet you still try and act like a white man to fit in and you forget about your ethics such as, oh what is it that you talk about?" Quatre sneered at him. "Oh yes. Justice. Funny how you forget about that so easy, ain't it?"

Fury ripped through Wufei and the backhand he landed on Quatre's cheek sent him sprawling. Straddling the near crazed man, Wufei grabbed the front of his shirt and released his own fury. "Don't you dare talk to me about justice! You don't know a damned thing about me and what my family has gone through-"

"So why are you defending them Wufei? Fear?" Quatre sneered.

Leaning forward, Wufei unleashed a near to terrifying glare. "I'm defending them because not every white man is evil. Have you ever heard of the Frank Slide? No, you wouldn't. My family was caught underneath millions of tons of rock when a mining accident set off a landslide of half of the damn mountain which came right down onto the town of Frank, which was where my entire damned clan was sleeping.

I was working in the mines and I was the only worker small enough to slip through the rocks blocking the mine entrance and I ran and ran and ran to stop the 4:00 am train that was about to slam into the landslide. I finally stopped the train and guess who the train was carrying? Four cavalry divisions, all heading out west. And even though they were all half asleep, they saddled up their horses and went to the town of Frank, even though it was a town of mostly chinks.

They worked for four days without stop, pulling rock off of people and saving those they could, even though it technically wasn't their job. And they took care of me, bandaged my raw feet and fed me and put me to sleep in one of their own cots. They were white Cavalrymen but they saved my life and they fought like hell to save everyone else's. They were good men, and you've got some damned nerve to insult every soldier because of the acts of a few."(2)

Quatre went still and for a moment, Wufei feared that his friend had fainted. Till he threw his hands up over his eyes, saying in a choked voice, "Oh god. What did I almost do?"

Wufei stood, helping him stand. "You almost made a mistake. Get in the wagon, I'll load everything and then we can go back to camp. I don't want to stay in this fort any longer than you."

The ride back to camp was a solemn one, Quatre seeming damned determined to not fall apart. Though once they came in view of the camp, Quatre nearly flew to Trowa. Burying his face in his beau's shirt, he released his fury into sorrow, clinging to him like a drowning man. Trowa wisely carried the blonde to a more secluded, private place, leaving Wufei to face the questioning look on everyone else's faces.

He pulled the wagon to a stop and slid off, saying bluntly, "We found out about a massacre that the Cavalry did to the Pawnee. They killed everyone in the tribe apparently, down to the women and children."

Duo, after seeing Heero herding off a disturbed looking Zechs, walked over close to Wufei, nearly pinning him to the side of the wagon. "You okay?" He asked, normally playful voice absolutely serious.

"No. I'm not. What kind of people kill women and children, Duo? I know that there are good military men out there, like the ones with the slide, but there aren't anywhere near enough." He scowled, a dangerous look. Finally, he took a deep breath, draping an arm around the hand's waist. "They killed women. What kind of men do that?"

Duo gave him a lopsided smile, shrugging. "Easy. Men don't. Bastard sons of bitches do." He leaned in for a quick, almost shy peck. "Is there a reason that Quatre's got a big red mark on his cheek?"

"He was hysterical. I couldn't think of anything else." Wufei knotted his fingers into Duo's hair and pulled him forward for an honest kiss.

Once Wufei'd decided that he needed air, Duo finally responded, a bit sheepish. "Is it a little selfish that I'm kind of glad that you smacked him?"

"Yes. But right now I need to unpack the wagon. Especially since I don't want the almond oil to spill. I heard it's good at making things… slide a little easier."

Hm. Duo was quite fast at unpacking the wagon with that kind of reward in mind.

Dinner was quiet. Everyone seemed to be intent on just shoveling their food in and getting away from the awkward tension that had fallen on them, with the exception of Quatre who had refused to say a word, opting to instead lean against Trowa with a wan expression. Duo attempted to make small talk, but everyone's mind was elsewhere. That is, till Quatre saw Zechs' knife.

After sitting up like a shot, Quatre reached over and snapped Zech's dagger up, scanning the hilt carefully. "You bastard." He hissed, throwing the knife down at his feet. "Your saddle, your horse, the way you hold your gun, it's all standard Cavalry! You were a cavalry soldier, though knowing you, you were probably high up. Hell, you probably ordered soldiers to kill my people!"

Zechs' face fell, hands trembling. He opened his mouth, yet the normally articulate man couldn't say a word. Not when faced by Quatre.

"You can't even say a damned word? Answer me, god damnit, you owe that much at least!" Quatre reached down and grabbed the cavalry dagger from the ground, "Say something, you son of a bitch!"

Heero shoved in between the two, hand an iron grip on Quatre's wrist. "Hurt him and you won't live to see another day. He may have been a cavalryman, but he left that life. He's never treated you bad and he was just was disgusted by what the army did. Don't you dare put the blame on him."

Fury ran through Quatre in waves, his entire body trembling. He locked eyes with Heero and the two glared, not unlike a pair of dogs snarling at each other for dominance. Quatre broke first, throwing the dagger down and turning to Trowa. "There's another Pawnee tribe who spends their summers just north of here. I'm going to go stay with them. Are you coming?" Trowa nodded and stood, following his lover.

Duo flew off of the ground, grabbing Trowa's arm with something closely akin to pure abject terror. "You can't leave! You can't leave me! You swore, you rotten son of a bitch, you swore that we'd be around for each other no matter what, you can't just back out on stuff like that! I know we ain't been gettin' along well lately but you can't-"

With a deep sigh, Trowa pried Duo off his arm, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him in the eye. "Duo. We made that promise when we were 10 years old. We've both grown up, it's time to go our separate ways."

"No! No, you can't leave me, you can't be like everyone else…" Wufei came up from behind and wrapped his arms around Duo, who sank into the embrace like all his fire had been extinguished in one fell swoop. He looked up at Trowa, eyes pleading for something, anything. "Please. Don't go."

Trowa and Quatre were gone by morning.

"Ah'm trying to tell myself that we're better off with 'em, but Ah just can't get my head around it. He's gone." Duo said, eyes focused on the tips of Diablo's ears. "Ah don't understand."

Heero pursed his lips, voice strained. "Duo, shut up about him. I can't deal with this crap right now, all right? Let's just get these calves back to camp and you can talk to Wufei or Zechs all you want."

"Yeah, s-sure." Shoulders slumped, Duo snared his fingers in his pony's mane, just trying to stay viable, alive.

Because the memories just wouldn't stop.

He'd been dusty and disgusting when he finally got to the winter ranch, and the tall boy who'd show him to the bathtub was the best thing he'd seen in weeks. Taking off his filthy hat, Duo held his hand out. "Name's Duo."

Long fingers clasped around his hand, his new friend's eyes impassive. "Trowa."

"-so then the skunk just let him have it! Poor dumb dog didn't have a chance, he just ran off yelping like the flames of Hell were lickin' at his paws." Duo said, ribs hurting from laughing too hard.

And the best part was, he wasn't the only one laughing.

They fell into the hay and clasped each other with a new found urgency, every span of skin their fingertips traced singing to life. Their lips a raw heat against each other, the friction of their hips rubbing together something new and absolutely terrifying.

Duo broke the kiss for air and as he panted for breath, he whispered into Trowa's ear, "I love you."

"I love you too, Duo."

Wufei's things were strewn around the campsite, wagon ransacked. And that was wrong, that was absolutely fucking WRONG because Wufei was nothing if not absolutely anal retentive on keeping that wagon spotlessly organized and Heero knew that too. Because it wasn't just the wagon in ruins, their entire camp was destroyed.

Finally Duo saw him, Wufei laying on the ground like a broken doll. Flying off of Diablo, he laid a smack on the cook's cheek, demanding as he awoke, "What happened? What the hell happened, where's Zechs?"

Wufei stared up at Duo, eyes hazy, "They – they took him-"

Heero froze then bolted to Wufei's side, grabbing his shirt and shaking him urgently, "Who?! Who took him? Who fucking stole Zechs?"

"Heero, god damnit, give him a minute to wake up, the back of his head is all bloody-"

"The Pawnee tribe Quatre found stole Zechs." Duo and Heero both snapped up as a man came out from the woods, myriad of pistols strapped to his chest over a thick poncho. He removed his wide brimmed hat, hair tawny in the twilight. "They're going to kill him and I disagree with Quatre about this. We are going to go save him, because I will not allow him to kill an innocent man." Trowa threw down Zechs' cavalry knife covered in dried blood before Heero's feet. "This ends tonight."

1. That was spanish for bastard.

2. This landslide actually happened, except it was up in Canada and the town wasn't Asian. Basically, about a mile away from my aunt's house, 800 tons of rock from Turtle Mountain, which was already absolutely unstable, fell on a town of 250. About 80 people survived, and that was because they were on the west side of town. About 3 people actually survived from being under the rocks. And a teenage boy did make a desperate run to go stop the train due to go through Frank, as the train would have slammed into rock otherwise and kill everyone onboard. However, the train didn't have the cavalry on it either.

I though Frankslide would work pretty decently though as a substitute for Wufei's clan dying in the destruction of L5. Besides, it's an incredible sight. You can drive right through it all, and there's rock for about 3 miles away from the mountain. How anyone survived it is way beyond me.