Algie could barely keep the grin off his face as he and Big Jim rode towards the setting sun, the gathered buildings of their cattle town rising from the horizon to meet them as they returned home. It had been a very productive day, with Algie finding a great gold vein and then defending Big Jim from the two outlaws who had tried to take the gold for their own. Algie had felt so courageous, he had felt like a man as he held a gun in each hand and told the outlaws to move along if they knew what was best for them, relishing in the fear that shone in their eyes as they realized they chose the wrong cowboys to mess with. Algie wouldn't admit it to anyone (except Big Jim, of course, he told the big cowboy everything), but the standoff had truly made him feel, finally, like a real cowboy. It had made him feel like he had succeeded in what he came to the West to do.

"Whad'ya say about going down to the saloon and celebrating your find, Algie?" Big Jim asked as his horse pulled abreast to Algie's, Big Jim's stomach audibly growling - which was warranted after all the hard work they had done throughout the day, "you've earned it today, you've really proved yourself."

"I thought you were going to stay away from the demon drink," Algie cocked an eyebrow as he leveled an unimpressed look at his friend, knowing how bad Big Jim suffered after drinking, "and you know the guys at the saloon are going to pour and hand you a glass."

"Aw, I'll just get myself a soda water," Big Jim reached over to pat Algie on his slender shoulder, "you know I don't drink anymore."

It wasn't just Algie that had changed in the last year, Big Jim had also changed a lot for the better and Algie was proud of him for it.

"Well then," Algie grinned and snapped the reins and shifted his weight forward, encouraging his horse into a gallop as he left Big Jim in the dust, "last one there pays!"

Big Jim's roaring laughter chased Algie all the way to the saloon, where he waited at the hitching post behind the establishment as Big Jim rode up, a cloud of dust chasing him.

"Well, I suppose this one is on me," Big Jim clapped Algie on the shoulder with a grin before offering him his reins, "you'll get to save your gold for another day."

Algie grinned as he accepted the reins, tying Big Jim's horse to the post alongside his own horse before motioning to the thin alley that led between the saloon and the apparel store.

"Let's cut through here, it's quicker than walking around," Algie turned to look to Big Jim as they walked, "what do you think I should use the gold for? Maybe we can finally fix that hole in the roof that's been bugging me for so long, I-"

"Hey there, fellas."

Algie and Big Jim looked away from each other as a voice interrupted their conversation, and Algie felt a tinge of worry tingle down his spine as he spotted a man walking into the other side of the alley, the setting sun outlining his form as well as the forms of the two men behind him. As Algie glanced to Big Jim, he saw the man nervously adjusting his vest - which was still dirty and scraped from his earlier scuffle. The man leading the group was tall and slender, with a Stetson hat atop his black hair and a black and white bandana tied around his face, concealing his features below his nose.

"Now," the man that led the pack continued, his eyes sparking with some dark intent as he casually strolled forward towards Algie and Big Jim, his eyes trained on Algie as he spoke, "Algie, was it?"

Algie didn't respond, but his hand slowly crept to the gun that was holstered on his hip, his calloused and dirt-covered fingers curling around the grip.

"Now, now," the man said soothingly, "there's no need for that, my friend. I simply want to help you out."

"I'm pretty sure I don't want any help from you," Algie said, "I don't even know who you are."

"I," the man pulled down his bandana, revealing a mouth that was curled up in a cruel smile, "am Sylvestro. And I've heard that you're a bit... uneducated, on the way things work out here."

"I don't know what you're talking about," as Algie spoke Big Jim was stiff at his side, the big cowboy clearly nervous about the developing situation.

"Well, as I understand it, you're a pretty little city boy," Sylvestro smirked as he sauntered right up to Algie, standing a good head or so taller than the shorter man, "and you're pretty fresh out to the West, no?"

The gathered saunter of cowboys laughed as Algie flushed, the reminder of how green he had been a year ago not a pleasant one.

"I might not have been a cowboy for long, but I've learned how to handle myself," Algie bit back. It was the truth, albeit he had needed Big Jim to teach him a lot, but he had become a natural when it came to riding the horses and an excellent shot with his gun. He had learned a lot of skills out West.

"I'll have to disagree with you there," Sylvestro reached up and tilted his hat down, casting his dark eyes into shadow as he crouched slightly to be directly eye-level with Algie, "because you messed with my group. And every cowboy around these parts knows that you don't mess with Sylvestro's group."

It felt as if the alley got darker as Sylvestro leaned in, his group chuckling darkly behind him.

"Sylvestro," Big Jim spoke up for the first time in the interaction, his voice a low rumble as he tried to mediate the situation, "leave the kid alone. You know he didn't mean to mess with your group. He's still getting to know everyone."

"I've never seen you in my life," Algie protested, "I haven't messed with you."

At least, Algie didn't think he had.

"Oh really? Well, my friends here," Sylvestro motioned behind him as two more figures entered the alley, two figures that Algie recognized, "disagree with you there."

Algie cursed.

Approaching Algie and Big Jim were the men who had attacked Big Jim and attempted to steal their gold.

Algie stepped back and threw his hand down to grab his gun, but before he could pull it from his holster he was grabbed from behind - two of Sylvestro's men had snuck up behind him, unnoticed! - and was roughly forced down to his knees as his gun was wrenched from his grasp and thrown to the side.

Big Jim got the same treatment, falling to his knees with a grunt as Sylvestro walked to stand in front of him.

"So here's how it's going to go," Sylvestro began, "Big Jim here is our lucky volunteer who will demonstrate what happens to those that defy my outlaws. You, Algie, are our audience. Pay attention and take notes, there might be a test at the end. Understand?"

Algie only stared at him with wide eyes, shoulders twisting and his lungs heaving as he fought against the men holding him.

"Good," Sylvestro smirked, "get him, boys."

Sylvestro's men leaped forward and began to beat Big Jim, the pair that were holding him letting him drop to the floor of the alley in a heap. As Algie went to cry for them to stop, one of the men restraining him clapped a grimy and salty hand over his mouth.

The men threw vicious kicks at Big Jim's side, threw powerful punches at his face, spit, and scratched at him. Big Jim took it all without crying out in pain, only clenching his jaw tightly as Algie watched in horror. With one powerful punch, a loud crack split the air and blood sprayed from Big Jim's nose, coating Sylvestro's jeans in red dots. As Algie sagged in the two men's grip, his knees suddenly weak and his stomach queasy at the sight of all his friend's blood, he felt ashamed of himself. He felt like that little coward that had been fresh from the city nearly a year ago, the sissy who had been afraid of guns and horses and everything that was unusual from his city life. He was still that sissy, scared and helpless to do anything to help Big Jim when it mattered.

Big Jim's handlebar mustache was soaked with blood, his entire lower face was covered with blood. His nose was crooked, most likely broken, and one of his eyes was squinting as the skin around it swelled and darkened.

"Now," Sylvestro paced over to the side of the alley and crouched down, his long and slender fingers curling around the grip of Algie's gun, which had been forgotten and cast to the side. Sylvestro picked it up and stood, turning to face Algie with a smile, "Since I'm a generous man, I'll let him fight for himself. He's got a gun in his holster, so is Big Jim ready for a good old-fashioned cowboy duel?"

Big Jim didn't move, the only sound from the cowboy Algie called friend being a slight groan as he lay on the blood-soaked dirt.

"Ah, well," Sylvestro shrugged with a light laugh as if he wasn't looking at a horrific and bloody scene, "I gave him a chance."

Sylvestro raised and leveled the gun, the barrel pointed directly at the center of Big Jim's forehead.

"No!" Algie wrenched his head to the side to escape the hand that had been covering his mouth, crying out in fear, "Please, don't-"

A gunshot was fired.

"NO!"

Algie squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn't want to see it.

He didn't want to believe it.

He didn't want to know that Big Jim was-

"Alright, alright," Sylvestro said from somewhere in front of Algie, "let's not get too hasty."

Confused, Algie opened his eyes carefully - and felt his stomach churn with relief as he saw Big Jim, still alive, on the ground.

A sheriff, identifiable by the badge on his hat that gleamed in the light cast by the setting sun, was sat astride his horse in the entrance to the alley, his gun raised to the sky and smoking as the gunshot echoed in the distance. His eyes were narrowed as he took in the scene of Sylvestro, gun limply held in hand, and Big Jim collapsed on the ground across from him, bloodied and beaten. Algie was who he looked to next, the two men that had been holding him tight enough to bruise letting go - Algie could not support himself on his shaking legs, so he fell to the dust with a grunt before pushing himself up onto his elbows.

"What's going on here, fellas?" the sheriff curtly asked, casting his gaze around the alley, "because it doesn't look like anything lawful."

"Oh, Sheriff Wyatt," Sylvestro grinned sweetly, "we were just teaching Algie here a lesson, with Big Jim as an example. Helping him learn how to be a real cowboy, you see."

"Don't try to pull that shit, Sylvestro, I know what you and your group get up to," Sheriff Wyatt said, before thumbing over his shoulder towards the exit of the alley, "now get out of here. Don't pull your stunts in town, you know the laws."

"Of course, sheriff." Sylvestro bowed his head, a mocking look of apology on his face, before turning to look at Algie and Big Jim with a malicious grin, "See you later, city boy."

With a tip of their hats and unspoken promises that this wasn't over, Sylvestro and his men left the alley, leaving just Algie, Big Jim, and Sheriff Wyatt.

"You better watch your back, boys," Sheriff Wyatt warned as he nudged his horse to turn around, "Sylvestro's group isn't one to let grudges go, and they aren't ones to follow the laws. And he doesn't like the big city folk."

"I figured," Algie muttered as he moved to pull Big Jim to his feet, the bigger man resting his weight on Algie as Algie propped his bloodied arm around his shoulder, "thanks for breaking it up."

"Be safe, gentlemen," Sheriff Wyatt tipped his hat, and then disappeared around the corner.

"I think we'll have to skip that drink tonight, Big Jim," Algie began to move, slowly dragging Big Jim along as he headed back towards the horses, weary and wishing they were already back home where their medical supplies were kept, "let's get ya home."