Can you feel the build up? Ooo…

Chapters are getting shorter again, too. Don't hate me!

Revenge

The barn was nice and warm. Though Harry had insisted Gill move into the house at first, he realized he was no better off than Gill was. The barn could even have been considerably warmer with all the heat the cows generated, breathing into the air.

Gill finished brushing one of the dairy cows. He placed his hand on her nose, and her long, sandpaper-like tongue wrapped up around his arm. Gill smiled and stroked the bridge of her nose.

Eventually, he had the brush put away and all of the animal stalls locked. (He wouldn't have anyone eating his bed now that the winter made it mandatory for his survival.) Just when Gill was going to settle in for the night, the barn door was wretched open.

The animals were instantly spooked by the cold air, the loud noise, and the stranger standing in the door way. Gill stared in equivalent fear and bewilderment as he tried to meet the hard glare of the man who had taken off his coat and thrown it on the floor.

"You know who I am," he stated in a deep voice.

"I do not—" Gill stopped himself. There was something strikingly similar about him. It was in the tanned skin and the red hair…

His eyes widened.

Samson smiled victoriously. "Hiding out in a barn? Gill Gray… 'Prince Charming.' Not exactly the castle I pictured."

Gill's stomach sunk. He was speechless.

Samson was rapidly approaching. He was shaking his head, his eyes fueled with a once dormant rage. He was crying. "Selena… My dear daughter…! You let her die!"

Gill dodged the initial swing, but he caught the knee in his gut. Knowing this was life or death and there was no more talking, Gill was quick to pitch himself forward and get back on his feet. Samson's large hand snatched at his head. The hat fell.

Samson threw another punch, and it struck Gill in the shoulder when he tried to duck. Samson knocked the wind out of him with a fist to his gut. He crumpled to the floor. So far, Gill wasn't fighting back. And he was losing.

The cows hollered and the horse screamed its whinny as the men fought. Wheezing, Gill tried to crawl away. There was a flick of a knife. It gleamed from the vengeful father's sweaty fist.

"Coward! You're not getting away!" Samson grabbed Gill's legs and dragged him backwards down the aisle of the stalls. The stall door by Samson was kicked, and he went reeling from the impact from the angered cow.

Gill crawled, limped, and broke into a sprint as he made his way for the tools along the wall. Brushes, milkers, hoof hook – nothing particularly good, and if it was sharp, it was awkward. Pitch fork.

He snatched the wooden handle and whirled around with it just in time to face Samson.

The glassy eyed look was all too familiar. Samson's mouth opened and closed in shock. Panting, he looked down. Gill's eyes followed. The prongs of the pitch fork were sunk into Samson's stomach. Their four points stuck slightly out of the back of his shirt.

Samson tried to stagger back, but the pitch fork went with him. The knife dropped from his hand. Gill was forced to let his iron grip on the handle go. He was shaking, unable to look anywhere but at Samson's rapidly dimming dark eyes.

The man fell onto his back. He gasped once, twice. Tried to murmur. Words wouldn't come. Blood pooled in his mouth instead. Stillness.

Gill finally looked up. Behind the fallen Samson was the open door. Where Katie was standing.

His knees buckled, and he fell back. Gill missed the shelf and fell to the floor next to Samson's feet. He quickly backed away from them, staring at them the body like it would suddenly rise and attack him again.

"Gill! Oh, Gill, are you okay?" Katie was kneeling on the floor next to him. Her basket was touching Samson. "It's okay – I saw it! It was self-defense! Answer me; are you okay?!"

Gill blinked at her. He started slowly shaking his head. He couldn't stop. "No… No…"

Katie went to hug him, but Gill's hand shot out to her shoulder and kept her at arm's length.

Tears were spilling down her face, her lip quivering. "I-It was self-defense…!" She whispered, choking. She pulled his hand off of her. "Gill, I saw it… I saw him die…! Oh, God… But it's okay, Gill. It's okay. We're okay…"

"I killed her…" Gill shook his head. "My fault… He was right… I killed her…"

"Stop it, you didn't kill anyone!" Katie insisted, not believing herself anymore. The consequences of her trust were dragging her down with her broken faith and despair.

"And Toby…" Gill held his head, pulling at his hair. His eyes were closed painfully tight as he started to rock. "Selena and Toby, God! Toby. TobyTobyToby. TobyandSelena. And him—"

"Gill, shut up!" Katie hit his arm. "You have to be calm! Stop saying these things! They're not true! They're… they're not…!"

Gill pushed off of the ground, crawling to a stand. In a second, Topper's stall was unlocked and Gill was leading him by the mane outside.

"Gill!" Katie shouted, struggling to her feet. Her eyes were locked on the door, and her clumsy feet caught Samson's arm. She fell, screaming. Katie kicked him away, believing he had actually come to life for a moment. She backed away and quickly ran to follow Gill out.

"GILL!" Katie screamed at the top of her voice, hands cupped to her face. The darkness seemed to swallow him whole. There wasn't a voice or a sound. They were gone.

Katie hugged her shoulders. She saw her discarded earmuffs and scarf in the snow by the barn door and fresh tears fell. On her knees, she realized that she never helped him. Never could. She didn't know him… at all.