SOL
Hello everyone, I'd just like to introduce this installment of "Something Pretty" a Deadwood fanfic. The author would like to apologize to those of you out there following this story for the long delay…
AL
Yeah right, like anyone out there's been cursing their computers for lack of a new installment. Loopy cunts' getting a bit…
DOC
Al have you ever thought insulting the girl who writes this as often as you do might be dangerous? She does have control over you, what if she decides to give you kidney stones again
AL
Shit! I mean pray break not my balls oh mistress of the fucking universe! I am thy humble servant Albert Swearengen.
TRIXIE
You can't tell from the writing but that was said with biting sarcasm
DAN
If y'all keep leaning on the fourth wall like this you're gonna break it
CHARLIE
What fourth wall?
SOL
Anyway what with finals and the holidays she's been tied up until know and she's happy if you're still reading.
HEARST
So anyways…
SETH
Hey get out of here! This is our town
HEARST
I'm a character too!
AL
You don't even appear in this fucking fanfic!
HEARST
Yes but my presence is…
EVERYONE
Get out!
HEARST
You haven't seen the last of me!
ALMA
Without further interruption may I present to you Chapter 4, we all thank you so very much for reading
JOHNNY
What are finals?
Chapter 3
Stand It Like A Man…And Give Some Back
Joanie lay there with Jane staring up at the ceiling. She wondered if she shouldn't change into her dressing gown since she didn't plan on going out anymore today. What would she go out to do? What was there to do? She buried her face in the bear fur trying to get closer to Jane to fight that familiar feeling. She had found some happiness she told herself, that fresh start that she'd been looking for. But that feeling was creeping back into her consciousness. It was that flat sad feeling, that made joy so fleeting and getting out of bed in the morning a daily calculation of whether or not life was worth living. She imagined sometimes that it must be what drowning feels like, being able to see light and air somewhere above you but unable to break the surface only to succumb to the pressure.
Something Cy had said came floating back to her, about how lack of gainful employment was what resulted in a gun to one's head. Though she knew his goal had been to persuade her to return to the Bella Union it had the ring of truth about it. Knowing what to do every day, having little things to occupy your mind and body, going to bed tired and falling asleep before your mind had time to bring up anything from the past that you wanted to keep buried. But what could she do? She didn't want to run women anymore, that was all she knew. She tried to think of other options. She had so loved being around those children, helping to tend their garden and the schoolhouse. For once in her life she had felt what it was like to do something, to be part of something that was really unquestionably good. And Mrs. Bullock had been so kind…but what was the point in thinking about it? What could she do exactly? Mrs. Bullock already cared for those children, as did their families, which was as it should be. She wasn't fit to be around those innocents, she wasn't a nice respectable lady. She was deviant who ran women, who'd slept with her father and sisters, sold for sixteen bucks and not worth much more than that. No, she couldn't have any kind of job having to do with the children. But she needed to do something, she couldn't just drift anymore. But of course that brought her back full circle to the question of what was there to do. She got up from the bed and knelt on the bare wood floor clasping her hands like she'd done as a girl. She'd used to do this every night until she'd given up figuring that there was no point continuing a conversation with someone who wasn't listening. These days she'd come to thinking that maybe he heard but didn't feel like answering her.
"Lord" she said aloud "I don't know if you forgive me my sins when I pray to you. But I feel that if you figured me for damned I'd have blown my brains out a while ago. I also am of the opinion that if you found me a sinner still you wouldn't have given me a good friend like Charlie or let me help at the schoolhouse or given me the courage to talk to Cy like I did that night. Most importantly if my feelings for women so displeased you why'd you send me Jane? Lord when I'm with her…when I lie with her, when I kiss her…well I feel…happy. I don't know if I deserve that and sometimes it scares me a little. I'm so used to misery, it's been so close to me all these years that whenever I start to feel happy…well it's a little frightening sometimes. Lord I suppose what I'm getting at is that I don't know what is next for me but I know I will…I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I trust you. I trust you to provide a path for me…and…Lord…I never know how to end a prayer…well Amen then" Joanie got up and begin undressing.
Alma lifted Sofia down from the cart and thanked and tipped the driver. She then picked up the little girl and carried her up the stairs. Not that she really needed to, but she felt comforted by drawing her daughter close. Alma fumbled out the key and fitted it into the lock. This house just felt like home, so did the town. This house belonged to her; it was completely hers. She'd gotten so used to living in other peoples buildings (homes or hotels) that to have a house that she had paid for gave her a new sense of assurance.
What she was doing was of course painfully obvious to her, going through all the pros, all the things she liked about staying in Deadwood to convince her that she had something to show for her sacrifice. She knew she had made the right decision, that capitulation was the best thing to have done, anything else would have been obscenely selfish. But why, why was it always down to her? Why did she have to marry someone she could barely stand to keep her father out of debt? Why did she have to give up the man she loved for the sake of his family? Why did she have to marry another man she didn't love (who she'd liked quiet a bit which was actually worse) for the sake of her child and of Martha Bullock who would never know or appreciate the things she'd done? And now why did she have to give up her claim in order that the town continue in peace? Why for everything she'd gained did she have to pay a price? Why was doing the right thing never simple even when it was clear what it was? She knew that these thoughts were pointless, life was not fair and that was just something to be accepted. But it was the injustice of the thing that stung… and while she was being honest her pride was wounded. Humility ill suited her, it was a fault of hers and she knew it. Laudanum had made submission and docility, so contrary to her nature, easier to handle.
Lost in her own thoughts she realized that Sofia had started crying.
"Sofia…" she asked tentatively "were you glad to have seen Mr. Ellsworth? I know it must have been sad to see him like that but…was it good to say goodbye?" The child nodded through her tears. Alma held her daughter tighter wishing she could somehow absorb some of her grief, make it easier for her.
"The other thing is, my dear, there are lots of people here who love you very much. Mr. Bullock, Miss Stubbs, Miss Canary, Mr. Udder and…and your teacher Mrs. Bullock. Many people here care about you Sofia, don't ever forget that."
Mr. Bullock, suddenly she realized that he had not factored in her decision to stay. Months ago that might have been the first thing she thought of but something had changed something in the nature of her affections…she returned her attentions to her daughter not sure she wanted, or could follow this thought to its logical conclusion at the moment.
"Sweetheart you know…you know that your…your reel family" Alma said reel grudgingly "They didn't leave you. This is hard to hear but…they were killed. I'm sorry to have to tell you this but I, I want you to know that your family…your father and your reel mother…they loved you, they loved you very much and would have never abandoned you. They're in heaven now and they are watching over you along with Mr. Ellsworth. Do you understand?"
She pulled away from the child and looked her in the face to see how she was taking it. At first she thought she had made a mistake, but then Sofia looked back at her and said simply;
"You are my real mother"
In his bedroom at the Bella Union Cy Tolliver also lay staring up at the ceiling. He had taken his anger out on a still bloody Janine, who was now washing up. His lust was satisfied, but then again it wasn't what was bothering him in the first place. The anger he felt at his own ineffectuality was a constant throb, corrupting and overriding every other thought or sensation that tried to take root in him. Killing someone, well he'd tried that. Sex, he'd tried that too. He got up;
"Hey stupid! What the hell are you still doing up here?"
"I've got blood all over me" Answered the girl in a sad hollow voice
"Then how come you ain't fainted or started screaming on me?"
"I'm no stranger to blood, I hate it though." Her gaze was ambiguous as always but Cy heard the accusation that would have been there even if he hadn't been looking for it. He strode across the room and grabbed her. Janine tried to wriggle loose but he slapped her across the face, than slammed her against the wall.
"You better change your tone you dirty little bitch! Or it's going to be your blood someone's going to have to wash out of their panties. You're fucking lucky you're brains ain't decorating the veranda at the moment. Aren't you now?"
"Yes Mr. Tolliver, thank you Mr. Tolliver" Whimpered Janine.
"Now that's what I like to hear" he let her go and marched downstairs, his rage seeking out a new target. Janine curled up in a ball on the floor where Cy had left her and began to cry; the fear, the pain in her snatch, the blood and the senselessness of it all finally overwhelming her.
"Just you wait Cy Tolliver, you won't have me to push around much longer. I'm getting out of here. I won't stay around until you get mad and decide to kill me."
Downstairs the cause of much of Janine's misery fixed on another girl. Lila was lying on the sofa, drifting somewhere near consciousness. A client was eyeing her quizzically to see if he might cop a free feel without anyone noticing. Cy hissed at him to get out and dragged Lila to her feet.
"Remind me why I keep you again?"
When she didn't answer he continued.
"You better come up with an answer quick because all I ever see you doing is lying around. Now I want you out of my fucking joint!"
Cy took her by the arm and marched her out the door where he threw her out only to watch her crumple on the boards outside. She didn't try to get up and he kicked her down again.
"Just kill me then" Lila moaned in response
"Oh, don't think I fucking won't!"
A little bewildered by his conversation with Trixie, Blazanov decided to go for a walk. He felt odd walking alone but instinct told him to leave Merrick alone for the moment. In his experience men, even one as gentle as Merrick, did not take kindly to being pulled away from the bar when they were in a bad mood and the newspaperman was in a worst mood he'd ever seen him in. He'd been more cheerful with his ribs broken. Blazanov had never had a friend like this before, never had someone who he didn't like to be apart from for even a little while. Granted he hadn't had many friends to compare him to, he moved around too much to build real bonds with people. He hoped he'd be able to stay in Deadwood for a long time.
He wondered if it hadn't been a mistake not to take the woman who worked at the bank up on her offer of a free blowjob. He was glad that he lived next door to a whorehouse, otherwise he might never have acquired the necessary English terms for various sexual acts. He supposed that he had been partially taken off guard and partly been a little afraid of Trixie. Though in the past he had made the decision that he did not want to pay for women, but earlier that day it had crossed his mind that if things had gone badly he might have died a virgin. This might not have been so shameful as an adolescent, if he had stayed at home and died with his family, but now he was approaching forty without having known a woman. He wanted very badly to fall in love, to find someone with whom he could spend the rest of his life, but he worried that he was running out of time. He supposed if he was going to get anywhere at all he would have to bite the bullet and pay for it, even if it did lack romance or gravitas.
He was brought back to his immediate reality by a commotion outside of the Bella Union, which he had just passed. He turned around to see Cy Tolliver throwing a dark haired girl out of his saloon then pulling a knife out of his belt. Blazanov rushed toward the two figures without thinking and grabbed Tolliver's arm. He wasn't really a match for the saloonkeeper and he knew nothing about fighting, but he had caught him off guard for the moment. Blazanov tried to get the knife out of his hand but Tolliver had regained his composure, pulled free and socked him on the jaw. It was an impressive blow and knocked the telegraph operator to the ground. He barely had time to realize that he was down when the other man began kicking him viciously and without mercy. Blazanov couldn't think or move, the blows came too quick and the pain was too intense, but just as suddenly it all stopped.
Al had taken a break from scrubbing the stain that he knew would never really come clean. He went out on the deck of the Gem and looked out over the camp. A flash of movement caught his eye over at the Bella Union and a closer look revealed the Russian telegraph operator in a tussle with Cy Tolliver.
'Shit, that's all I need. Now I have to fucking deal with this too.' Out loud he yelled "Bullock! The fucking Russian's getting the shit kicked out of him by Tolliver!" He waited a couple of minutes before a bareheaded Bullock came striding out of the saloon, followed by Merrick at an much more awkward gait. Al headed back into the Gem and looked down at Dan.
"Bullock ain't the fucking sheriff anymore"
"Sure he is Dan, the election ain't completely over. Besides, you think tin or lack thereof will get in between that insane fucking person and helping some poor fuck?"
Cy Tolliver was about to land another kick on Blazanov when a familiar voice commanded him to leave the man alone. Cy turned to face Bullock whose hand hovered menacingly over his gun, which still rested at his hip. Somewhere in the back of his head Tolliver knew he should slink back into the Bella Union and that would be the end of it, but his dominant instinct didn't want this fight to be over. He was also savoring the faces of the two men facing him. As amusing as it was to wind Bullock in righteous fury, Merrick's disgusted anger was absolutely priceless. Cy began chuckling at the two of them.
"Well look who it fucking is. Don't think you should be walking around with that badge Bullock, might give people the wrong impression. Sure you could shoot me but then the real sheriff would have to arrest you."
"Leave him the fuck alone, Tolliver" Bullock said breathing rage in every syllable
"Hey, he fucking started it"
"He was going to kill her" gasped Blazanov
"You son of a bitch!" Snarled Merrick
"Exactly" said Tolliver "It was none of his fucking business" and he casually kicked the telegraph operator again causing him to yelp with pain.
At this point Merrick did something that surprised the other men and ultimately, himself. He grabbed the gun out of Seth's holster and walked up to Tolliver who turned away from his victim only to catch a pistol butt in the face. He swayed but Merrick grabbed his shirt collar and hit him again with the gun, and then again.
"You like this? Do you like this Tolliver? It's fine when you do it to other people but when it comes to you well it fucking hurts doesn't it? Everything's fun until it happens to you isn't it?"
"Merrick, stop it!" Seth couldn't believe he was saying this
"Merrick, stop it! You'll fucking kill him!"
This seemed to do the trick. The journalist dropped the gun and then slowly, as if coming out of a trance, looked at the man he had just assaulted. He stared in horror at the blood that was trickling down onto his wrist.
"Oh god what have I done? What…what have I become?"
AL
What indeed?
SETH
If its any consolation Merrick, I know exactly how you feel
MERRICK
Thank you, Mr. Bullock. That means a lot to me.
SOL
All of us here hoped you enjoyed it and that you favorite or review it.
DOLLY
I mean, that would be nice, you don't have to if you don't want to
CY
Oh you do! Because I've got some choice words for anyone who reads this but doesn't review it or fucking favorite it…
SETH
Well I think you'd best keep those to yourself then
SOFIA
Thank you for reading!