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by JDSampson
JDSampson@fannishdreams.com
http://www.fannishdreams.com
Every time he closed his eyes he was back there. Standing in front of the bullet-ridden wall. Hands tied behind his back, four rifles aimed at his heart. He had refused the blindfold more out of resignation than pride. Or maybe he refused it because he hoped to see him one last time. One brief look. The last image in his mind before death.
Curry pushed the balls of his bare feet on the floor to start the rocking chair in motion once more. The lamp beside him was lit, but barely, bathing one side of the hotel room in a soft, flickering glow. Just enough light to see his partner on the bed. Sleeping soundly. A sleep well earned. Still.
"Heyes." Curry said, speaking in the whisper one used when testing to see if another was awake. No response.
"Heyes," he repeated, louder this time, no longer testing, just hoping.
Heyes shifted then mumbled long and low like he always did when he was awakened too early. Then his eyes popped open. He turned right, found the other side of the bed unoccupied, then flopped down on his back head lifted so he could see over the footboard. "What's the matter?"
"Where would you have taken me?"
Heyes pushed up to his elbows, eyes blinking in an attempt to adjust to the dim light. "I don't understand."
"If you hadn't been able to clear me in time. If I'd gone up against that firing squad. Where would you have buried my body?"
With a great groan, Heyes fell back down against the pillow. "But I did clear you and you're fine. So let's not talk about this."
"No. I want to know. I mean. . . it's bound to happen sometime, to one of us. Probably me, since I'm the one that always seems to be on the wrong end of a gun."
Heyes couldn't deny that. He knew that the west was full of cowboys out to prove that they were faster than the infamous Kid Curry. A fact of life and one he tried never to think about.
"So where would you have buried me?" Curry persisted. "Not here in Santa Marta, I hope. You'd likely never come back down here and I don't know another soul in town except the Alcalde and I doubt that he'd visit my grave."
"Kid."
"No. I want to get this figured out." Curry moved forward to perch on the edge of the rocker. "I guess most people go home to where they were born, but that'd be Kansas and there's no one there that gives a hoot about me anymore so that doesn't seem right. It's gotta be someplace among friends, Heyes. Someplace where you'd come and visit."
"Visit."
"Yeah, visit. Bring me some flowers maybe, sit by my grave and read a book, or just talk."
"You're morbid, you know that."
Curry's lower lip rose up into a childish pout.
"Okay, fine. I guess I'd bury you up at Devil's Hole."
"Why Devil's Hole?"
"Because that's where your friends are. And it would be the easiest place for me to visit you without any unwanted company and all the important people in our life already know how to get there - Silky and Diamond Jim and Lom."
"Lom wouldn't visit my grave."
"Sure he would," Heyes insisted despite the ridiculousness of the conversation. "A lot of people would come. Clem and the Jordan's and their girls, they were very fond of you. And what about Sister Julia? I bet she'd make that long ride and say some nice words over your grave even though you're not a Catholic. And then there'sâ€"" He stopped, realizing that he had oversold himself. Curry looked like he was going to be sick.
"Heyes. I don't want to die."
Heyes sighed, eyes focused on the water stained ceiling so he could collect himself before making the situation worse. When the threat had passed, he lowered his eyes to his partner and said, "come here."
Moving like he had a sack full of bricks on his back, Curry got up from the chair, set one knee on the bed, then collapsed onto his stomach, face in the pillow. "That was real close, Heyes. Real close."
"I know." Heyes rolled to his side and laid a hand on Curry's bare back. It had started out a warm night; they had both gone to bed with only their long john bottoms on but now Heyes felt chilled to the bone. "I did everything I could to get you out of there, you know that, don't you?"
Curry nodded but remained silent.
"Even took to romancing Mrs. Meg Parker to see what I could find out."
Curry turned his face out of the pillow. "Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you about that."
"My intentions were purely investigative. I assure you."
"I don't know about that. I mean, I know that you enjoy the company of a good woman. Especially one that's educated and feisty like Mrs. Parker." Curry rolled to his back, caught Heyes' eye briefly then turned his gaze up at the ceiling. "Shouldn't have split up. That's where we went wrong. That's where I went wrong. I always get into trouble when you're not around. Think about it. Think about all the times I ended up in a fight or in jail. It's because you weren't there to talk me out of it. And that's not even thinking about us being apart for three weeks. Three weeks." Curry turned his head and found Heyes right beside him, his own head propped up on one hand. "It was your idea to split up, too. How come?"
"You seemed like you really wanted to go. Luxury private coach and everything. And I didn't want to go. Simple as that."
"Yeah, simple as that. When I landed in jail all I could think about was how alone I was, just me and the walls and you more than a week away and I started to go crazy, really crazy. I'm just no good without you Heyes. No good at all! And that worries me because what if you get tired of dragging me around with you all over creation and back? Huh? What then? I'd have to walk into the nearest sheriff's office and give myself up because I can't do this by myself. I'd rather-"
"Kid." Heyes cut in, soft but firm. "Shut up."
There was a brief moment of hurt in those baby blues, then an impish grin spread across Curry's face. "Make me."
Heyes slapped his hand over Curry's mouth and held it there until Kid began to struggle in earnest. When he figured he'd suffered enough, Heyes relaxed a little and allowed Curry to push his hand away.
"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
"I know what you had in mind." Heyes smiled and it was glorious.
"I like when you do that. How come you don't smile very often?"
"Because you wouldn't appreciate it so much when I did." Heyes tucked his chin to his chest so his forehead bumped gently against Curry's temple. He stayed there for a second, knowing the contact wasn't near what his partner was hoping for yet unable to do any more right now.
"Heyes," Curry's hand lifted between them, knuckles brushing his bare chest.
"I'm tired, Kid. Really tired."
The hand dropped to the bed. "But I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes I'm back there in front of that firing squad."
"You have to put your mind on something else." Heyes let his head fall back on to the pillow, but allowed himself to move closer to Curry, one arm draped over his chest. "Think about something hard, something that will keep your mind occupied, like ciphering. Do your timeses."
Curry sighed. "Fine. 1 times 1 is 1, 2 times 2 is 4, 3 times 2 is 9 and that's it for me. That's as far as I ever learned."
"3 times 2 is 6, and I know you know more than that."
Curry rolled to his side so they were face to face, lips pouting, eyes narrowed. "Come on, Heyes. Help me, here. Make me feel good. Please?"
Heyes groaned, might as well try to resist a puppy dog tugging at your pant leg during dinner. "Turn over the other way."
Curry complied instantly, rolling to the right so his back was to Heyes' chest then he snuggled backwards forcing the contact to be complete. He closed his eyes and waited for the gentle touch, the briefest touch of lips on his bare shoulder. He received that and more.
"Kid." Warm breath so close to his ear. "I'm no good without you either. As a matter of fact, I think I need you even more than you need me."
"Doubt it," was Curry's lazy reply.
"You keep me going. There were so many times when I was ready to call it quits. To go back to the old life or worse."
Worse? That stung, but Curry said nothing.
"But you were always there to point out the bright side. To make a joke, crack a smile. The head on, bull by the horns way you tackle a problem. . . " Fingers stroked down the length of his arm. You certainly have taught me a thing or two and without you I'd. . . "
"Don't say anymore. Just. . . stay close, will ya?"
He felt Heyes' head nod against his shoulder.
"That's all I need," Curry said, nearly to himself. "For you to stay close." Then he let himself drift off to the sound of Heyes steady breathing just behind him.
The End