The Path.12
Drabble: 500
Words
Genre: Canon { will be A/U later on}
Pairing: Ennis and
Jack
Disclaimer: AP created'em, I just play with'em out of love
A/N: As you recall, there was a nasty scene awaiting Ennis up there.
Have to get away from camp, think things through. My sturdy horse beneath me; Know I can depend on him to help me fly from danger. . . like Jack's face. I saw true enough in that one quick glance, that his feelings reflect my own and we are in deep trouble.
The gentle quiet of the sheep never fails to calm my fears and put me at ease. I can be myself up here. I'll ride the perimeter, check for strays and . . .
What's that cry? One a the dogs is reporting bad news . . . oh no. I let myself neglect them again. Because of my weakness, wanting to spend all my time with Jack, this animal is splayed in the ditch. Just like Earl, gutted and abandoned to the flies and the elements. I've failed these sheep, I've failed Mr. Aguirre. Again.
I've hurt Jack, and turned away from him too. What's the matter with me?
I used to think I was a good man. I knew I was. I worked hard, kept to myself. In spite of havin nothin, I was growin into the kind of man my mother would have been proud to call her son. And my daddy too, most times. I'm still a hard worker at times. But I have this new side to me that is scaring me. I don't meet my responsibilities, I break the rules. Listen to Jack, 'stead a my own conscience.
Aw, shit! Can't blame it on Jack. It's me. All me. I have to forget about being with him, and just do what I was hired to do. Keep the fuckin sheep safe from the goddamned predators. Otherwise, what'um I doin here?
My eyes won't stay open, this afternoon lull is making me drowsy. Guess I didn't get much sleep last night after all. I'll ride the circuit again, then bed down for a bit of shut-eye. I'll stay up here at dark, and wait for the coyotes to start their hunt. Won't go down to camp. Stayed in camp too much lately . . .
Sheep're safe for the moment; good thing too. I'm so sleepy I'm nearly cross-eyed. Couldn't hit a coyote if my life depended on it. . . bad as Jack. He can't hit the broad side of a barn. Wonder if Jack needs glasses? Or if
he can see and shoot just fine, but won't bring himself to hurt nothin? Sooner believe that, soft hearted as he is. . . . soft-hearted, harmonica playin, blue-eyed Jack Twist. 'Quitcher smilin, dumbass Del Mar! This is what got you in trouble in the first place!'
Shot two more coyotes at dusk. One of 'em had milk . . wonder if her pups is old enough to make it on their own? Hate to think of'em starvin to death out here. Been hungry; ain't no pain like yer innards gnawin at ya from the inside out.
Missin him feels like that too.
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