Work Text:
The Sorting and Cleaning
by Pirate Turner
JD jumped as somebody entered the alley behind him. His sickened eyes lifted to Buck's reassuring face. "Does it ever get any better?"
"It gets easier for some o' us." Buck turned his gaze to the street, where the blood of three gangs they'd had to fight still ran. He saw Josiah, Nathan, and the undertaker hauling bodies away. "Some're always bothered by it, like Josiah an' Nathan. Times like these, they've learned they gotta let the Lord do the sortin'. For Chris' an' me, unfortunately, it's kinda become old hat, but Ez . . . Heck, he hit the outhouse when the bullets stopped comin', an' he ain't come out yet."
"Wouldn't blame him if he never did." JD took a deep breath as he tried to settle himself, then asked, "But what 'bout all that blood, Buck? We been in a drought so long. Rain ain't gonna clean it up this time."
"That's where these come in."
For the first time, JD noticed that Buck was carrying two rakes as he handed him one. "Ya gotta be kiddin'!"
"Nope," Buck drawled. JD promptly vomited again, and he patted him on the back. "Lord does the sortin', but we gotta do the cleanin'."
The End