It was about five A.M. when Eleanor woke up. She looked out the windows into the darkness of the yard. Not even the moon was visible through the clouds. The darkness felt fitting. It was quiet. Save for the lonely hoot of an owl in the distance.

Lonely. That's how Eleanor felt, through her bones and right on down to her soul. Maybe it was because she finally had someone to turn to, or more like five people, but for the first time in her life, she found herself craving company. She peeled the blankets off herself and rolled to the edge of her bed.

Wait... bed?

Eleanor sat there for a moment. She wondered how she ended up here. She knew she had curled up on the floor and fallen asleep there. She looked down at the floor to where she usually slept and found there was nothing left down there. Her blankets were all on the bed with her. Even her little leather pouch had been picked up and was now on the nightstand. But then she had a flash of memory; pa had been in here. He'd picked her up and even tucked her in. She had thought she was dreaming. She recalled what he had said and how he had said it and even the look on his face so filled with concern and what must have been... love?

And just like that, Eleanor found herself blinking back tears again. Feeling foolish all over again like she had earlier. Having a family was more emotionally exhausting than Eleanor had remembered it being. Wiping the stray tears away, Eleanor rose from her bed. She was thankful for the darkness so no one she might run across would be able to tell she had been crying. She needed to see someone and while family was nice, Eleanor needed to talk to someone whose heart wouldn't break for her: Candy.

Quietly, Eleanor crossed the floor to the door and opened it. She was silent as a ghost as she crept down the hallway and navigated the stairs, being careful not to miss one, she didn't want to end up falling down them face first though it would be a good cover for why she had been crying. Then, she silently crossed the parlor, a space she already knew by heart, and then finally she was at the door to the downstairs bedroom where Candy stayed. Why was this room his? Eleanor didn't know.

She knocked softly on the door. When no one answered, she knocked again more insistently until she heard the sounds of Candy getting up. Suddenly, Eleanor felt nervous, she had never called upon someone before! The last time she had, she'd been hit for it. Finally, Candy opened the door, blinking sleep from his eyes, his shirt unbuttoned.

"Ellie... whats wrong? Something on fire?" Candy asked through a yawn.

"No, nothings wrong. Can I come in?"

"Sure," he said, stepping back from the door and gesturing her to come in.

Eleanor stood inside the room awkwardly for a moment before Candy took a seat on the bed. Figuring that she should sit down too, she pulled up a chair from the corner.

"Can I borrow your gun?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.

"What?" Candy said figuring he must have misheard her.

"Your gun, can I borrow it?"

Candy blinked. "Why?"

"I've gotta deal with Yager somehow... If I had a gun, I could call him out in the street."

"Ellie, you're not going to have a gunfight with Yager!"

"Why not? I've gotta end this somehow," Eleanor said, desperation bleeding into her voice.

"What if you get killed!?"

"Then at least I'm still out of it."

Candy gave her a look.

"Look, Candy, its better to get killed in a gunfight than to hang. And it's better that it happen sooner rather than later, after pa and everyone else around here get too attached to me."

"Ellie, first off, they don't hang women in this territory. Secondly, your pa was attached to you the moment he carried you into this house," Candy looked away briefly before continuing, his voice softer, "and so was everyone else."

Eleanor looked at her hands, feeling guilty. "Its better than going to prison. I can't go to prison. I'd go crazy being trapped in a cell. I've already had enough of that... That's where he used to lock me afterwards... said it was to give me time to think about what I'd done..."

"Eleanor, look at me," Candy said, taking her hand. He squeezed it gently, she finally met his eyes. "You're not going to go to prison. You didn't do anything wrong. We're going to get you out of this, you've just got to trust us. You've got to trust me," he said firmly.

"Okay. But if they try to hang me or send me to prison, you've gotta promise me that you'll break me out before they can do anything."

Candy smirked, "I promise."

"On your life?"

"On my life," Candy vowed. "You'd better get back to bed before your pa notices you're missing. He'd send the whole Ponderosa to find you." He gave her hand a final squeeze before letting go.

They stood up and Candy walked Eleanor to the door. She turned back before leaving. "Thanks, Candy," she said softly.

Quietly, Eleanor retraced her steps and crossed the parlor and climbed the stairs, at which point, she finally heard Candy's door close. Eleanor crawled back into bed. Her bed. The warmth and comfort of her bed slowly puled her back into sleep. She felt like a caterpillar in a cocoon as she dozed off. It felt like she had only just closed her eyes when she was woken by a knock at the door. The only sign much time had passed was that now the room was bathed in the warm glow of morning sunlight.

The knocking persisted. "Eleanor!" it was Joe. "Hurry up, if you don't come down soon, Hoss will eat all the breakfast!"

Eleanor sat up, "I'm coming, just don't let him take all the bacon!" Bacon was her new favorite breakfast food and everyone knew it. When Hop Sing found out, he started making extra bacon every morning just for her. Eleanor didn't know it but it was Hop Sing's subtle way of putting more meat on her bones.

Eleanor quickly got dressed, the fear of Hoss taking all the food was very real. She put on her light blue shirt and a sturdy pair of britches and practically ran downstairs. Sure enough, the table had been set and Hoss was helping himself.

"Hey! Save some of that for me!" Eleanor practically shouted, trotting on over to the sat in her usual spot, the corner with the best view of the entryway, which happened to be only very slight. A good spot for seeing potential threats if one were to walk in, though not a good spot to make a quick getaway from unless she were to dive under the table and make for the kitchen, though she could throw her knife to buy a little time. She always kept her knife on her, easily accessible, like how a man wears his pistol.

"You're just in time Ellie, Hoss was just eyeing up those last ten strips of bacon for himself," Adam commented.

"Sleep well?" Ben asked after Eleanor had settled at the table and loaded her plate with food.

"Very," she smiled, "thanks," she placed a little extra emphasis on the word. Ben gave her a subtle nod. Adam glanced up questioningly but found no answers.

Eleanor was glad as breakfast went on like normal. No one commented about how she had cried and ran off to her room. No one treated her any different or looked at her pityingly. Though she knew someone would say something eventually. The events of last night wouldn't be resolved by simply ignoring the problem. And after breakfast was cleared, the conversation arose.

"Eleanor, I'm going to to town today to speak with the judge. We'll see about getting you a private hearing with just us, the judge, and Sheriff Coffee. I'd like you to come with me," Ben held up his hand as Eleanor looked like she was going to object. "You don't have to tell him more than you have to but you will tell him enough so we can help you rather than have this devolve into a gunfight." Eleanor didn't notice but Ben shot a quick look at Joe, who tried his best to look innocent.

"Candy," Eleanor muttered under her breath, glaring in the direction of his room.

Ben raised an eyebrow. "What's Candy have to do with this?"

"He told you I wanted to borrow his gun, didn't he?"

Ben shook his head, his face tight with anger.

"Oh... oops... forget I said anything..." Eleanor said, with a sheepish smile. She wanted to disappear, sink through the settee's cushions and into oblivion rather than see that look on her father's face.

"This family does not settle things with violence, and not only does that apply to your brothers, but it also applies to you. Am I clear?" Ben's voice was firm.

Eleanor nodded, her heart racing. "I understand," she said quickly. The expression on Ben's face changed to something Eleanor didn't recognize. He stood up and crossed over to her. He reached out for her. Eleanor flinched, like she was expecting a blow. Why shouldn't she? Misplaced words and wrong assumptions always resulted in that in the past.

Ben froze for a moment, hurt crossing his face. He placed his hand on her shoulder and knelt in front of her at eye level. "Ellie," he said softly, "you never have to be afraid of me."

Eleanor continued looking at the floor, too ashamed to look her father in the eye.

"I swear to you, I would never lay a hand on you in anger. Ever."

"I know, pa," Eleanor whispered. She did know it but old fears die hard. Before, she had never known when something she said or did would bring down harm upon her. Usually, it was when she least expected it, always over the smallest things.

Ben squeezed her shoulder. "Good. Now, please, go get ready to go into town. I have a feeling we'll soon have a victory to celebrate."

Eleanor finally looked her father in the eye. "Okay, pa. I'll go with. I'll tell the judge what he needs to know. I never was very good with a gun anyway."

And with that, Eleanor went upstairs to get ready to go into town again. She trusted the confidence of her father, maybe she wouldn't end up being hanged or locked in prison after all. As Eleanor looked in the mirror at herself, she silently resolved that she would not let that be her fate, even if she had to show those hideous scars to the judge. Besides, if she had to, she could just throw her knife at Yager. Maybe it'd kill him, maybe it wouldn't. Eleanor snorted, picturing herself throwing her knife at that man out of spite, scaring him out of his mind just as he'd done to her countless times. Oh how the tables turn.