AN: Sorry for the delay I have been rushed off my feet that I have never just had a moment to sit down and write.

Raylan didn't mind admitting that he had seen his fair share of bloodshed, hell he had dealt most of it out if he were honest. Nothing however had prepared him for this; not even Helen's shooting had prepared him for this.

He and Seth walked into the cemetery to a crowd of people from all walks of life, Al who was stood near the front with his stained under shirt on turned and even his eyes held an edge of disgust at what he had just witnessed.

"Well Lordy me aren't I so fucking glad that the law has wandered back in to town." Raylan felt himself bite down on his retort when Seth just nodded slightly in the direction of the saloon owner. "It would appear old friend that your young one is on his merry way to saint Peter's as we stand here and watch." When he had finished Al stepped back to let Seth and Raylan through. When he saw Josiah his stomach roiled.

At his feet lay Tim all bent and mangled as if he had been fifty rounds with the world's strongest man. He shook himself and tried to remind himself that it wasn't Tim it was just someone who looked like him, but it didn't work. The mangled version of Tim at his feet gurgled as the blood in his lungs threatened to drown him and Raylan took a knee. He'd seen enough death bed confessions to know when one was about to occur.

"Anyone got a knife?" Raylan asked looking at the reins that were tangled around Josiah's legs knowing that they were one part of the young man's discomfort. Other than the bullet wound he was sporting and the beating he had taken. In the back of the crowd he heard a low rumble of what he thought was Chinese and then heard the sharp exhale of a curse from what he assumed was Al.

"Well hurry the fuck up Wu, the man ain't got all fucking day!" He finished reigning in his extensive vocabulary for a second at least. There was a shuffle of feet and when Raylan turned he saw a stout man wielding a machete at him. Had he not seen stunts like this in Harlan County he may have passed out from fright. Instead he nodded to the man and tightened the reins so he could cut through them in one strike. When the leather had been cut Raylan lay Josiah's leg down and cradled the young man's face on his lap.

"Josiah," he murmured softly hearing the young man's breath rattle out of him. When the blue eyes looked up at him he saw every moment he had ever spent with Tim flash before his eyes.

The first day he had met the young Deputy Marshal he had thought him a smart ass with a wicked mouth in his ill fitting suit and slicked back hair. When they next met he realised how wrong he was about Tim, yes he was still a smart ass with a wicked mouth on him, but there was so much more than people didn't see. He's played pranks on Raylan that were as childish as they were funny. He had made a point of telling Raylan how much he enjoyed being used as a guard dog with so much snark that it had almost floored him. Raylan knew the younger man loved his job and wanted to keep it at all costs. He may be the powder keg that Art worried about exploding, but to Raylan Tim would always be the smart ass who knew how to make him smile as much as he knew how to make him frown. He was a necessary cog in the Lexington office and the thought of seeing him hurt tore a hole in his heart that made him take a breath. He felt fingers clawing at his arm and looked down to see Josiah struggle to make purchase on the worn cotton of his shirt,

"Hunt," Josiah said on a sigh as his lids fell closed, "Caught… me… unaware…" each word was punctuated with a breath that wracked his broken frame. Josiah coughed and Raylan saw the wince as blood seeped from the younger man's chapped lips. "Coming… back… Yankton… ambushed…" he said again as Raylan tried to staunch the blood flowing from the gunshot wound in his lower abdomen, "Sends… his… regards…" he finished with one final cough before his body went rigid and his eyes closed a final time. Raylan felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Seth, the deputy put gentle pressure on Raylan before he stepped back his other hand resting lightly on the holster at his hip; his trigger finger as twitchy as Raylan's.

As Raylan stood he picked up Josiah's body and looked at Seth expectantly.

"We'll take him to The Gem," Seth said looking at Al who only shrugged his shoulders.

"The man was a paying customer under my roof I won't bar him entry in death," he said taking a sip from his tin cup. In that moment Raylan felt kinship with the saloon owner and could imagine that was how Seth also felt about him. Though in some glances he could tell the pair of them had a past history that contained hatred and violence, but what man in Deadwood wouldn't; there was no law in towns like these when they had started. The rich got richer, the poor got poorer. As Raylan walked up towards The Gem holding Josiah's body close to him he realised that as much as the wooden houses had become brick, nothing had really changed with the world from this time to the one he lived in.

Raylan entered The Gem behind Al who pointed him to a room near the back on the ground floor,

"Deputy Gutterson spent most of him time in there. We can use it to get him cleaned up and ready for burial." Raylan was grateful and made his way towards the room, he had made it half way across the floor when Al spoke again; "you are going after them aren't you?" He asked with quiet malice, "Those there weren't the normal Hoopleheads we deal with here." Raylan felt his mouth stretch in to a grin that he knew was filled with vengeance.

"I think Hunt has been given a long enough rope to which to hang himself. It's time we reeled it in." He replied feeling the need to put a bullet in the man. It was as powerful as his need to shoot Tommy Bucks after he had hurt that innocent, it was as all consuming as the hate he had for Arlo after all his father had put him through. He was going to find Wallace Hunt and he was going to give him a choice, he hoped that at the end of the day he would get to put a bullet in the man, it would be cathartic. It would be like shooting Boyd all over again, but this time for a crime more serious than threatening Ava. People didn't just shoot the friends of Raylan Givens and live to tell the tale.

The Deputy Marshall was annoyed, that much was clear to Seth as he loped beside the other man as they walked in to The Gem. A deadly calm had enveloped him as if he had seen a ghost; there was a haunted look to his eyes that made Seth believe that he knew Josiah Gutterson better than either of them had let on. It was as if he had met kin in Josiah and now he was on the verge of swearing vengeance on his rapidly cooling corpse.

They both walked in to the room that Al had pointed out and when Seth had shut them in together Raylan let out a howl as if the man were possessed. He laid the body of the dead deputy on the bed and fell to his knees weeping as if he were a child. It was in that moment that Seth understood something so elemental that it almost unbalanced him,

"You have never lost someone on the job have you?" He asked as he leant against the wall in the dark space. Raylan turned to him, his face pale,

"I have," he said softly on a whisper, "I couldn't save him either." Seth knew from experience that Raylan was a man that kept all but his anger in check; that demon had free reign in his daily life. His grief however was always kept under lock and key. Seth could understand the need for self preservation in a life like theirs, but he no longer practised it. He had found it was better for him and those he cared for if he let himself be taken away by his emotions every once in a while.

"Josiah understood the risks of being a law man in a place such as this," Seth said crossing his arms gently as he moved to stand with one leg bent against the door.

"Hunt wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me!" Raylan almost spat out vehemently.

"And he could have still been felled by another of the bastards." Seth replied with venom knowing that his anguish at loosing the wild mouthed youth was coming to the fore. When he looked up at the other law man he realised that Raylan had once again got a leash on his emotions as he stood and began to meticulously remove Josiah's clothing and belongings. He placed his shield and gun on the night stand and then began to peel off layer after blood soaked layer of clothing from the younger man. Each item that was removed hit the buckled wooden floor boards with a sodden splat; staining the murky hardwood a rusty red. Raylan had reached the last few scraps of material when there was a sharp knock on the door that made both Raylan and Seth flinch.

Seth opened the door to find Jewel on the other side of the threshold holding a dish of steaming water and a cloth her wide cow like eyes filled with equal amounts of awe and regret. Seth took the bowl out of her hands and gave her a kindly nod. She smiled and turned on her stiff leg and then glanced back at Seth and spoke in a soft tone,

"It's not right what they did, he was a good man," Seth smiled at the homely cleaning lady and watched as she walked back up the hallway dragging her leg helplessly behind her. From the main room Seth could hear Al shout,

"Here she fucking goes again dragging that fucking leg! Even with this piece of shit brace thing it sounds like some kind of fucking funeral dirge." Seth shook his head at Al's words and closed the door.

"He is such a charming man," Raylan said smoothing Josiah's hair. Seth felt himself chuckle as he placed the basin beside the bed.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but he actually truly cares for Jewel; anyone else would have left her where they found her. He only outwardly despises her... I'm sure." It was Raylan's turn to laugh before he knelt and took the cloth from Seth to place in the water.

The pair worked in silence as they cleaned Josiah and redressed him. When they had finished Raylan looked at the newly clothed Josiah and was struck again by how much it would kill him if he ever lost Tim. He could just imagine him sitting up on the bed rubbing he eyes and looking at Raylan as he said,

"I love this shit, this shit makes me hard!" In his rakish drawl before he swung his legs off the bed and walked haphazardly out the door as if he had been on an all night bender. He wished in some closed off part of himself that the body on the bed would do just that, but it didn't. Josiah Gutterson was no more.

"Would you like to say a few words?" Seth asked his shrewd eyes merely narrow slits of understanding.

"I wouldn't know where to start." Raylan replied, "I didn't know the man." Seth leant towards him and touched his arm lightly in comfort.

"But you know someone like him," it wasn't a question and Seth stated it like he knew Raylan inside and out. "What would you say to him?" He asked this time. Raylan looked at his counterpart quizzically and for a moment Seth looked embarrassed, that was one look that Raylan had never seen on himself as there was not much in the world that could embarrass him as he walked head long in to stupidity day in and out. "It's something that Martha would say, she is far better at giving comfort than I." Raylan smiled at Seth before he replied,

"Don't sell yourself short kid," Raylan sighed and took Josiah Gutterson's cool and partially stiff hand in his own feeling the gun calluses on his palm and fingertips rub against his own. "I wish I could have been there to see you fight, because I know without a doubt that you would have given them hell up until the very last second. You are as tough as hell and as laid back as a frat boy. Even then it's in your eyes, the look of a sharp shooter a man that is willing to get the job done no matter the cost. I'm awed and I envy that conviction. You are a great man, but an even greater Deputy." Raylan finished and laid Josiah's arm across his chest. Seth mirror the action and the pair stared at the youth for a second before Seth cleared his throat and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"When you arrived here," he said in to the dark and for a moment Raylan didn't know who he was addressing. Seth cleared his throat again and rubbed the heel of his hand in to his left eye and started again, ""When you arrived here, I thought you were wet behind the ears, but you surprised me. You possessed a wisdom and clarity that I could never truly fathom. You saw things I always missed. I am better at my job because of you. Deadwood is better because of you. Whatever roads you now travel go in peace my friend." Raylan looked up from the bed and looked into Seth's more youthful, but wiser eyes and saw a flash of paternal pride in them. He knew that is it had been Tim lying on the bed that he would look much the same way.

In ways that he couldn't even begin to understand or more to the point didn't want to understand. The Lexington office had become like his family. Art was the father he had never had; strong, straight as an arrow and willing to put him down with words not fists. Rachel was the smart and good sister who never stepped her toes over the line and who put Raylan to shame without even trying. Tim, Tim... he was the young and reckless brother who swung between being like Rachel who he admired and Raylan that he quietly idolised. Not that he would ever admit it. Raylan had never really had a family that he would say he loved unconditionally, but as he glanced at Josiah's face he knew that he did have one now.

"So Deputy Sherriff," he said walking around the bed to clap Seth on the shoulder. "Do we corral the posse now?" he asked; he received a bamboozled look in response and that was enough to tell Raylan that all the Wild West movies had it wrong. He backpedalled slightly before trying again; "Hunt, how will we catch him?" Seth stroked his moustache for a second before a feral grin spread across his features. Raylan had seen that look before on his own face, it was as reckless as it was desperate and it did nothing to comfort him. Before Raylan could ask Seth more he had turned on his heel and left the room only pausing for a second in the doorway with a devious look in his eye.

"Josiah will be of use to us for a little while longer." He said his words taking on an almost deadly edge as he looked towards the bed, "Your Country thanks you for your continued service," Seth added as an almost throw away comment and then vanished down the hall as silent as a ghost.

Raylan stared at Josiah's body for what seemed like a age trying desperately to understand what Seth had meant. Had Seth been a member of the Dixie Mafia or the Bennett Clan he would have known in an instant. He understood the criminal ilk far too well; if you shared hell with other people, Raylan knew he stood a better chance with the demons than he ever would with the angels. Raylan chose hell any day of the week. Angels he didn't understand and for all his talk he knew that Seth was a straight sword of justice. In Deadwood he was the right hand of God for better or for worse.

"Hey Marshall," Al called from the door, "If I were you I'd hurry your pretty little behind outta here before our stupid motherfucking deputy scalps those cock sucking Hoopleheads." Raylan looked at the man in the doorway taking in all the details of him that he could.

"You are on our side right?" He asked caring for once that they had back up.

"Me and Bullock took a tumble a while back, I ain't been right in the head since." Al replied taking an imaginary piece of lint off his under shirt. Raylan knew that the answer he had been given wasn't a yes, but by the set of the man he also knew it wasn't a no either. He walked passed Al and asked.

"Where will I find him?"

"By the way he took off I'd say that paper. No fucking clue what he would want there." In a moment of clarity Raylan knew Seth's plan and punched Al in the arm receiving a glare in response.

"What is it with you fucking lawmen, are you all out of your God Damn minds?" Raylan turned on his heel at the end of the hallway and tipped the brim of his hat at Al with a lopsided grin plastered across his face.

"Sir, I think it just might be a legal requirement."