Standing in the walled courtyard that he'd spent much of the last week staring out at through a barred window, with rough hemp biting into his hands, which were tied tightly behind him as his heart thudded hard in his ears, the Kid was left contemplating the unfairness of fate. He was even wondering if they should have just stuck to the outlaw life, because in the almost eighteen months that they'd spent going straight they'd found nothing but trouble, and now he was facing something even worse than the twenty years in prison they'd been trying to avoid by going for amnesty. Because despite trying his damnedest, Heyes hadn't been able to find the miracle they'd needed to get him out of this.

The Kid squinted over at the assembled line of armed men, each holding a gun, that would very soon be pointed straight at him, and thought that perhaps refusing a blindfold hadn't really been that wise a choice after all.

The Kid in an attempt to keep the fear that was racing through him show on his face, allowed his mind to drift to his friend, who would be pacing and cursing in the Alcalde's Office. He was being kept there by the watchful immovable presence of three armed men, with his view of what was going on out here blocked by the heavy curtain that the Alcalde had ordered to be drawn across the window as the Kid had been led out.

The memory of Heyes practically begging to be allowed to watch the execution, with his panicked pleading tone holding more pain than Kid could remember hearing in his partner's voice in many years was embedded in his brain. The last time he had heard so much agony in his voice had been back when they were still children. His distress had convinced the Kid to say yes, despite his deep reservations. But of course the decision had turned out not to be his to make, and the Alcalde had been implacable in his refusal to allow it, leaving the Kid feeling reluctant gratitude towards his executioner. Heyes would be living with enough of a guilty conscience without the addition of the horrific memory of having had to watch helplessly as his partner died shot to pieces in front of him.

They'd talked about what to do after in hushed tones once they'd realised the miracle wasn't going to happen and had decided that Heyes would let him to be buried here in Santa Marta under the name Thaddeus Jones. The Kid didn't want to be remembered as a murderer, and he firmly believed that there was absolutely no need for his partner to be subjected to the horror of transporting his body anywhere else. He'd been firm in getting Heyes to listen to him, because even though he wouldn't know, it had felt important for him to hear his friend say yes. And Heyes so despairing of his own failure to stop today happening, had for once easily agreed to anything the Kid asked.

As dawn had broken they'd been given a last few precious minutes together under the watchful eyes of armed soldiers. The Kid had stared at his partner's stricken expression, the grief he could see already settling on his face threatening to rip away his fragile composure. Heyes' eyes had been glittering with tears, and the lines on his face were stood out in sharp relief adding years to him, as he'd mouthed. "I'm sorry." The Kid suddenly needing to offer some final comfort, had despite his own desperation, and not trusting his voice tried to smile, knowing that was all he had left to give his friend to attempt to reassure him that he didn't believe he was to blame for any of this. But his pained grimace had done nothing to ease his friend's guilt, despite his sincerity. And before he could try again, they'd been out of time, and a heavy door had slammed shut between them as the Kid was led back to his cell to wait for the firing squad to be assembled.

He pushed the painful memory away as his attention was drawn back to the row of men in front of him by the sound of movement. The man in charge of the firing squad, who the Kid recognised as an army captain nodded sharply and straightened up, his face hardening. The Kid realised he must have missed some kind of signal from the Alcalde because after a deep breath the Captain shouted what was obviously an order, and even with the Kid's limited Spanish, he understood its meaning."Apunter."

As several rifles were suddenly aimed straight at his chest, the Kid determined not to show any emotion forced his mind into the calm that he always found when facing a gun and waited to die. But to his shock rather than feeling a hail of bullets ripping into him, he instead heard a disturbance behind him, and he swirled round almost eagerly, as hope that Heyes had finally pulled off the impossible flooded through him. But the brief flare of optimism was quickly replaced by puzzled despair, when he came face to face with two men he'd believed he'd never see again, except perhaps in nightmares.

He couldn't understand what they were doing here, had he somehow missed being killed? Both of these men were dead by his gun. The last time he'd seen Hector Martin, was ten years ago, as he'd breathed out his last, outside a bank in Abilene, the weapon he had been aiming at the Kid's back on the ground beside him. The second man had lost his life just less than a year ago, sprawled on the dusty street of Matherville, his face frozen in a parody of the grin he'd so often sported in life.

The Alcalde stepped over to greet the two villains with a welcoming smile. "Ahh it is good to see you, I was afraid my message would not reach you in time."

The Kid stared in shock at what was happening, because he had until just now believed the Alcalde to be a decent man, albeit one blinded by his desire to find an easy way of solving an inconvenient murder, but before he could react any further to his realisation, one of the men gave an irritatingly familiar grin. "We wouldn't have missed this for the world would we Hector?" The other man shook his head with a gleeful look over at the Kid as Bilson continued to talk. "It's good to be somewhere cool. Lord Lucifer was more than happy to give us a few days to escort another soul into his tender arms." He laughed, the unpleasant mocking sound brought the hair on the Kid's neck up and his stomach roiled in a mix of anger and fear. Bilson then twisted so he was facing the Kid, his smile even less pleasant than the Kid remembered as he said with amusement clear in his tone." Hector was disappointed that I won the toss and was given the live rounds." He turned his gaze back to the Alcalde, as his smile grew even wider. "But with a little discussion, we decided to share the pleasure." He turned back to grin at the Kid as he said. "I sure am glad you won't be firing back at us Thaddeus. It's going to be as easy as shooting plates, but far more satisfying."

The Kid having heard enough, anger replacing some of his fear and confusion, started towards the men, but found himself restrained by the guards behind him. "No, Senor Jones, stay where you are."

The Alcalde turned to his men who were looking more than a little puzzled, their rifles still half pointing towards the Kid and waved at them. "Estas despedido."

As the Kid watched, his heart in his mouth, the assembled men in front of him seemed to sag in relief. It seemed that being part of a firing squad was not something they enjoyed, and with their Captain leading the way they quickly departed,not glancing over at the Kid as they passed, probably not wanting to acknowledge the condemned man for fear of nightmares.

The Kid sweating, his breath coming in short sharp gasps, didn't understand any of this, the strange fogginess in his mind, and the odd blurriness of what he was seeing wasn't helping his confusion any either.

He knew at this point that Heyes must be wondering what the hell was happening. The Kid looked over at the heavy gate at the far end of the courtyard, almost expecting to see his irate friend come barrelling through it, demanding to know what was going on.

But his attention was quickly drawn back to his own predicament as he was manoeuvred back into position. Without thinking he pushed back, irritated by rough handling, when he was hardly in a position to fight, but all he got for his trouble was a hard kick on his shin, a sharp prod in his back from a rifle, and an impatient. "Be still Senor, there is no escape."

He almost rolled his eyes at the man, as if he hadn't realised that for himself. Straightening his back despite his fear and the growing nausea, the Kid stared over at the Alcalde saying firmly. "You know I didn't kill Ralph Hanley."

The Alcalde met his gaze steadily. "I know nothing of the sort Senor Jones." The Kid knew he was lying, and anger replaced some of the thudding fear. Deciding he wouldn't waste any more of his final breaths on the idiot, he simply threw him a final glare, shook his head angrily, and turned to face the men who would take his life. How someone claiming to be a decent man and an upholder of the law could watch him die, knowing he was innocent of the crime he was accused of he honestly didn't know. But as he stared ahead, out across the courtyard, the Kid was suddenly impatient. Now that he saw no way out of this, there simply being nowhere left for him to run, he wanted to get this over with. He hoped fervently that he would have the chance to settle the score with the two men aiming guns at him , when they were all on the other side. No more thought was possible as the Alcalde shouted in English standing a safe distance from the guns. "Aim, then fire when ready."

Before the Kid could be torn apart by an oncoming wave of bullets, he was being shaken and an urgent voice was loud in his ear. He came awake with a start, surprised to find himself in what was obviously a hotel bedroom looking up at the very worried face of his partner as his heart pounded in his ears and his head span. "What the hell Kid?"

Struggling to catch his breath, he could only shake his head aware of being drenched in sweat as his hands trembled slightly. He tried to look away from Heyes, embarrassed at what his face must be showing, but Heyes held his head tightly and too shaken from what he'd dreamt to fight too hard, the Kid stopped moving and simply closed his eyes as the potent imagery and feeling brought on by the dream lingered, before reopening them to rest his gaze on Heyes and say softly. "They were going to kill me, Heyes, the alcalde was going to let Danny and Hector kill me."

He swallowed hard and flinched as his mind finished the dream and he felt the impact of the bullets ripping into him.

"Great time to develop an imagination Kid." Though the words seemed harsh, Heyes' tone was soft and reassuring, as still keeping their eyes locked, he released his grip on the Kid's head and began to gently stroke his arms, murmuring nothing words, as if settling a spooked horse, the touch and tone grounded the Kid, allowing reality to force the dream to begin to loosen its grip on him, though he was still breathing far heavier than usual and his heart seemed loud in his ears.

As he came back to himself, Heyes pulled back, but kept his hand on the Kid's arm, allowing him some space but still offering support as he said. "And before you ask, I'm back early, 'cos I didn't want to clean 'em out and cause a scene."

The Kid took another steadying breath as he remembered that Heyes had gone to play cards, after filling him about what had happened and ruining his hat. He let the memory of their conversation drift into his mind, hoping that something so normal would dispel more of the dream as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood a little unsteadily, desperate for a drink of water to ease his dry scratchy throat.

"You ever gonna get outta that bath, Kid? I swear you're gonna scrub yourself invisible or just plain melt away if you stay in there much longer."

The Kid had startled at the sound of his friend's voice, before frowning and shrugging, shivering sightly as he was hit by the fact that the water had gone cold.

He'd clambered out of the bath carefully, fumbling and barely catching the towel that Heyes had thrown at him. As he dried himself, he'd had to be careful not to trip himself up. He'd spent too much time in and out of jail in the past few days to fully relax, and the last two days of waiting for the miracle that Heyes had finally pulled off, had all added up to an almost total lack of sleep in the last week, other than a few restless hours. He'd looked up owlishly from drying his feet and shaken his head wearily, when his partner had asked if he was hungry. "More tired than anythin' else Heyes. Just gonna go to bed and sleep till breakfast, or maybe even lunch."

A brief look of concern had crossed his friend's face before it'd faded, replaced by a small smile. "Sure, Kid, guess you ain't been sleeping good. But I'm in the mood to celebrate." He'd paused and added with a dimpled grin. "So don't be worrying, and don't try to wait up."

The Kid had again shook his head, as he'd snapped. "Ain't intending on doing either." He'd been left feeling vaguely irritated and a little disappointed that Heyes wasn't staying in with him but pushing that away, he'd slid under the quilt, wearing only clean long john pants muttering. "Just don't lose all our money this time."

Which of course explained his partner's comment as he'd woken. He poured himself a glass of liquid from the jug by the door, grateful that it was still cold, and finished it in one gulp, before walking over to stare down at the still busy street, feeling Heyes watching him, grateful that he wasn't pushing for answers. The memory of the dream was still far too clear in his head, and he blew out a heavy breath, willing his mind to quiet with little success. He rarely dreamt, usually only doing so when he was incredibly overtired or very stressed, but when he did, they were generally just like this one, painfully vivid nightmares, that were often hard to shake. And damn he was still too tired to be able to properly make the effort that was needed to banish the shadows from his mind. Tomorrow would be better.

AS&J

There was rustling, followed by footsteps, and bare arms slipped round his chest and he leaned back into the hold with a soft sigh. Heyes spoke, his voice warm and husky. "I can think of something that might help you back to sleep."

The Kid liked the sound of that, but though his mind was willing, his body was not and he reluctantly shook his head as he said wistfully. "If we try anything now, I'd just be embarrassed and you disappointed."

Heyes' laugh was throaty, that particular sound always held the promise of pleasure, so despite his exhaustion, the sound of it so close against his back, still sent a slight shiver of pleasure down Kid's spine as his partner said. "I didn't mean that, Kid.. .least not tonight." He paused then added "Remember me telling you 'bout that gypsy boy Patrin, the one I travelled with for a while after we split?" When the Kid nodded, thinking he had a lot to thank that young man for, after placing a gentle kiss on Kid's shoulder, Heyes continued. "Well I may not have mentioned that he was as talented with his hands as he was with his mouth. And he taught me all he knew."

The Kid intrigued, allowed Heyes to draw him to bed and encourage him to lie face down. As he lay there, his face in the pillow, his eyes closed, Heyes moved away. Even when he heard his partner obviously hunting through one of their bags, despite being curious, the Kid couldn't quite summon the energy to move his head to look at what he was doing, because the heavy tug of exhaustion was weighing him down. He did however manage a smile when he heard Heyes give a small humph of triumph. Footsteps on the creaky floor behind the bed, told him that Heyes was walking back over to join him. Finally managing to move his head as his partner's weight settled next to him, he saw that he was opening an unfamiliar looking bottle, not his gun oil then. He wondered vaguely when Heyes had bought it, but didn't ask, simply watched as Heyes winked at him as he fiddled with the top.

Soon, as the cap of the bottle came off, the Kid's nostrils were teased by the heady scent of sandalwood, mixed in with some other musky perfume. Heyes took a deep appreciative sniff and grinned down at his partner as he said. "Now we get to the fun bit, Kid."

The Kid turned his head away to burrow his face back in the soft pillow and started slightly as he felt a drip of warm oil on his chilled back, but when Heyes laughing gently said softly. "Shh, Kid." He relaxed easily, and there quickly came the feel of familiar hands, digging quite firmly into the middle of his back, working out the tension there, before moving up to his neck and shoulders. The Kid groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure as the muscles relaxed under the attention.

Heyes finally urged him to lift up slightly and when he did gently slid his long john pants down to his ankles, and then pulled them off his feet, no doubt laying them on the bed end, before beginning to work his way down his body, skimming gently and only slightly teasingly over his buttocks, before continuing to work their way down one leg then the other, before winding their way back up to press gently on his back again.

The massage continued for some time, and the Kid felt every part of the tension that he'd only half been aware of, melt away, leaving his body relaxed and his mind drifting in pleasant nothingness, as he dropped closer towards to sleep. A husky, amused but warm chuckle brought him out of his reverie and he realised he was making a sound of contentment, that he knew could only be called a purr, though he would deny even to Heyes, that he was capable of making such a noise. He grumbled a little, despite being more than half asleep, when Heyes stopped what he was doing and his weight moved off the bed.

Heyes laughed as he said with chiding amusement. "Patience, Jed, I'll be right back."

There was the sound of soft scraping, followed by the splashes of water, then Heyes was back, caressing his back gently before pulling the quilt folded at the bottom of the bed over them both. A soft rustling of paper and a contented sigh was the last thing the Kid heard before he fell into sleep.