Work Text:
The Magnificent Seven Cats AU: Hurt
by Pirate Turner
Her long, full tail was tucked daintily between her feet, and her ears swiveled back and forth as she listened intently for any sound that might foretell the one thing she was hoping for, the one thing she would give all her money to make happen, and the one thing that she would never admit to being concerned over. Her expert hands shuffled her favorite deck once again, and she set about laying out another round of Solitaire.
A soft snore pierced the silence, and her emerald green eyes darted over to her sole companion. He was balled into a pitiful crumple of a body in a bench, his furry thumb stuck inside his little mouth. A sound of disapproval tisked low in the back of her throat. Mary should have weaned the child off of his thumb years ago, and yet here he lay, trembling with nightmares and suckling his thumb for comfort.
She turned back to her cards even as a voice she hated hearing spoke within her head. A good mother would go over there and comfort the kitten. She was not a good mother, she shot back at her conscience who was always irritably never as quiet as it should be. She never had be. She couldn't be. It was not in her genes.
Her ears perked to instant alert at the sudden sounds of horses trotting down the road outside. They swiveled back and forth as she focused to make out all the distinct sounds. There was one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes growing wide and moist with sudden alarm. Her whole body stilled and grew taut as she listened and waited . . .
There! There, at last, it was, taking up the far rear of the group! Number seven! She shook her head and forced her attention to return to her cards. There was no sense in running out there to greet them. Most would come in here soon enough, and the rest . . . She squared her shoulders suddenly as her defenses caught up with the rest of her mind. There was no need for her to be concerned with the rest nor the most. They would do what they wanted as they wanted, and she would continue to play her cards until she was finally tired enough to allow sleep to grip her.
She could take the kitten out to his mother, but that would mean being slobbered on by his wet thumb and slightly drooling mouth. Her pink nose crinkled in disgust. Let Mary come in for her own child! She certainly was not going to get her fur or her dress damp with his slobber! She cringed at the mere thought.
The saloon doors swung open, and Maude peered up into the mirror above the counter to see who was approaching. The flickering flame of her lantern did little to light the doorway, and so she watched and listened, even as her hands went to automatically playing out her game. She knew every card by touch and scent and so was able to play nearly as fluidly as if she had actually been paying attention to every move.
She watched in the darkness as the group separated. Chris conversed with Mary in hushed tones as they walked over together to fetch Billy. Mary's puffy, orange tail swished through the darkness, and Maude knew that she wanted to pull Chris close to her even as she knew the black tom would never allow her to come as close as she wanted to be.
Her eyes moved back to the doorway just in time to see a mountain of a tomcat step inside. She knew his identity immediately from the shadow of his frame, and her eyes were caught and held riveted to him. For one split second, she dared to allow herself to hope that he would saunter her way, but in the next, she assured herself that she only wanted a chance to play against him when he was so tired he would never stand a chance against her. Not that he ever did any way. Her lips curled upwards into a smile. Josiah was always so easily beaten.
As she watched him step further into the light, a purr sounded deep inside her throat. His massive body, tall length, regal balance, broad shoulders, rippling muscles, thick, gray coat, and deep, emerald eyes tinged in white fur that she instinctively knew must be softer than any satin or velvet ever made combined to make him also a sight very easily watched. Her smile grew as he took a step in her direction. The tip of her tail twitched a dozen times in the span of a split second.
Then she realized she was purring and silenced the noise even as her eyes, round with shock at her own silly, kittenish antics, dropped back to her cards. What was wrong with her?! She was far from being some school girl with little thought between her pointed ears! She knew the ways of the world and was well aware that it never paid to take any interest in any one beyond what you could get out of them! Pinpoint a target and squeeze every last thing possible out of them. That was her extent of relationship with any one, and there was a solidly good reason behind it.
She could not allow herself to care even one drop. She knew that. She had known that for years, and yet here she was making herself appear . . . The squeak of a step made her eyes flash to the staircase where she saw Josiah walking to his room without heed to any one else. She growled softly, her ears flattening against her regal head, and her tail cut through the air like a knife. . . . appear stupid and wanton, when she was far from being either!
"Mothah."
The unexpected sound of her son's voice nearly made her jump out of her fur. Maude forced herself to settle quickly and returned her angrily pounding heartbeat to normal before Ezra's ears could pick up on the sound. Ezra continued as though he had taken no notice of her behavior. "We appreciate yoah watching young Billy Travis during our absence. You can go now."
Her eyes flashed and could have cut straight through her unsuspecting offspring if she had not kept her gaze focused upon her cards. As she busied her hands with collecting her deck, she kept her voice soft, even, and casual, never letting on how his callous thoughts cut through her. She questioned him, without interest, about the ride and whether they had brought all their enemies to justice or if she still needed to keep an ear listening behind her throughout her stay in their little town. Never did she give him any sign of the real thoughts that sped through her mind.
She had kept herself safe from ever being harmed deeply again. That was true, but what was also true was that she had lost her son and would never have a chance to ever again hold him in her arms, like Mary was now doing with Billy. He thought she was cold without a care for any one save herself and never would have believed that she had spent precious little time napping while he and the others had been gone. He would never, for even one second, think she might have been . . . nervous to close her eyes for concern that she would see him being gunned down or witness herself walking at her son's funeral.
She snapped her deck closed even as her mouth snapped with cold proficiency. "They're going to be the death of you one day, son. Heed my words: A Standish only ever cares for himself, and there is a fine reason why."
"Yes, yes, Mothah, Ah know." His voice was droll as though he was almost as sick and tired of hearing her say these words as she was of reminding him of them.
"People are like coyotes," she warned him, her green eyes glowing in the dark as she met his reflected orbs in the mirror. "You let one slip in pass your guard, and the next thing you know, you're dealing with an entire pack set to rip you to shreds."
"Be that as it may, Mothah, Ah'll take mah chances." His own eyes glowed back at her in a heated glare, and then he spun on the heel of his boot and walked away, his white plume of a tail striking high. "In the mean time, Ah do believe Ah shall assist Nathan in attending the horses."
Maude's upper lip curled into a snarl, but she silenced the emotional outburst. Her green eyes shone with moisture, but she held it back. She had not cried one single real tear in years, and she was not about to start now. She gathered her things and headed for her own room, never once daring to admit the truth to herself.
She was not proud of her son for connecting with these people whose bravery would one day get them killed. She did not want to be the simpering mother fussing over the welfare of her kitten. She did not want to be close to any of these people for closure always only brought heartache and suffering. She was through with heartache and would take her chances alone, her brain told her as she walked up the steps to a bed she knew would hold no sweeter dreams than it had since she had arrived here, no matter what her weak heart foolishly thought it might like.
She was cold. She was hard. She raised her head high and proud, her eyes gleaming in what she told herself was only solid determination. She would survive and never, ever be hurt again!
The End