vengare

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

He actually was being careful with moving him. Wondered how used he was to moving around injured people. He hadn’t seen him before so he didn’t know if he was in town or not. Made it a point to know who came into town. How he knew where to find Buck, he wasn’t lying good to know who was around in case someone was looking for him.

He wasn’t in a full sitting position but at least he was up enough that he could eat something. Looking up towards the offered bowl Chris glared at the other man when he told him to show him if he could actually do it.

Reaching up to take the bowl, aware that there was a slight tremor to his hands when he did so. Shit was almost starting to look as if the other man was right. Even feeding himself could be an issue. This was in his mind worse than being shot. While yes this hurt like hell, it was how weak it left him after the fact that he hated more than anything.

Holding the bowl with one hand he took hold of the spoon, this might actually be harder than he thought it was going to be. But he wasn’t planning on eating much anyway. Taking a second and moving slow he did actually manage to get a spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Not that bad off yet.” He muttered a little surprised that he had managed to do it himself.

The glare, at least, tells him that the man’s not quite on the verge of giving up yet. Granted, Red probably should’ve gathered as much by the fact he’d survived the battering and the dehydration, but it’s one thing to know a man’s alive and another thing altogether to know he’s got enough fire to quietly tell you to piss off.

Both his brows raise when the man eats. He won’t say the man’s got the steadiest hand-- some of the soup had spilled out in the trembling, dripping back down into the bowl he holds-- but it’s better than nothing.

“Well,” Red says in turn, “you’re tougher than you look, gringo, I’ll give you that.”

And it’s none of his damn business, in the end.

“I suppose if you don’t mind taking an hour to eat a bowl” -- both his hands land on his knees before he rises to his feet -- “then you can eat the rest on your own, eh?”

His head cocks, hand gesturing slightly in the man’s direction. “You sure you don’t want help?”

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

Chris scoffed at the idea that he might have put him with the innocent people that could have gotten involved in his gunfight. Chris had been in more than enough to figure that this couldn’t be that much of an issue. He hadn’t been that impressed with the group that was looking. Five against one just seemed to be something of an issue.

“They came into my town locking for trouble.” Chris told him with a small grin as he prepared himself for whatever plan Red might have in mind.

Didn’t seem like much shoot if things get bad? Well he was planning on doing more than that. Chris grinned as he readied his weapon. “Think I can keep up with that. Just try not to get yourself shot.” If anyone could tell him how unpleasant that was would be Chris. Still he waited for him to get out front before starting to move.

Keeping himself out of sight still he moved to get a good position. So that he could get a few surprise shots. Lower their numbers if he could. Five against two still had them out numbered. But he had seen much worse odds. So of course Chris didn’t seem all that concerned.

Listening to them have their little chat. He huffed out a quiet laugh hearing the simple answer. He knew what that meant. Simple Spanish he understood. So of course he was aware that Red was telling the man that had in fact shot their, whoever the fuck he was. He didn’t really know who this John guy was. There were too damn many with that name running around. Could get more info when they were done dealing with the idiots that were still standing.

Getting into a position he could take good enough aim, he wasn’t anywhere near as good with a rifle as Vin might have been, but he could hold his own. So taking aim Chris saw some of them going for their guns, so without giving them to fire a shot Chris took his first one.

Didn’t bother to see if the show had connected, didn’t need too. Hearing the sound of something hitting the ground at least showed that he hit something. Enough to distract them from Red. For the moment anyway. He should be able to take a few shots now himself.

Hopefully, he’d have the time to get back behind the rock. Least wait until they got the rest of them anyway. He wondered for a brief moment if they had any more friends coming. Five he was sure they could handle. Any more than that they might need to get the guys.  

He’d never seen Chris in a gunfight, but-- despite the fact their first meeting had involved seeing the man bleeding on the side of the road-- he’d hoped the reputation he and his six amigos had made for themselves was not unfounded.

Needless to say, Red was glad there was a reason they were so known.

With Chris’ help, two were gone from the beginning, shot from their horses and fallen on the dirt with blood pooling beneath them. Red’s hand took aim to one more and fired with success, but the next one he fired at ducked his head swift and turned his horse to start fleeing.

“Larabee!” he shouted then, because at that point he had to roll to the side himself to avoid a shot from the bastard that led the rest of them.

Hopefully Chris would get the picture and pursue the damn yellowbelly. On Red’s end, his lip curled as he snarled with derision, but as he got back to his feet he noticed the leader of the group starting to move with his horse, too.

“Don’t think I won’t come back for ya, Vásquez!” he shouted as the animal’s hooves pattered across the dirt.

Red, meanwhile, only got on one knee and aimed his rifle true.

One shot, and the horse whinnied as its rider’s blood spurted out onto its mane before fell off the side into the dust. Red watched for movement or twitching, and much as he was tempted to shoot the horse just to make sure it didn’t return to anyone...

The animal hadn’t done anything wrong, in the end. And if anyone else came after because of it, Red supposed all he would have to do then would be to kill it.

Turning to where the other two corpses lay dead, he found one of the horses had fled in the wake of the gunfire. The other, if one would believe it, had gone to the stream to drink along with Chris’ own horse.

“...fuck.”

The realisation there were so many dead had him grumbling, and as he got to his feet, he ignored the creak in his knee that came with it.

[vengare]

“The Enemies of My Enemy” | Narcos 2x5

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

Well seeing as this was about seven men in the course of..? It wasn’t long maybe about a couple weeks if that. Wasn’t like hadn’t heard sometime similar. Well not really barbarian. They tended to keep that term for well from what he had seen weren’t white men. People tended to refer to him as things like what Mary had in her paper. Bad element, killer was one he got a couple times. One that he didn’t really argue with. If people just left him alone he wouldn’t need to have killed anyone now would he?

“Think I get the nicer way of putting that.” Bad element or some of the other terms they could find for him just seemed like a polite way of calling him one.

Chris was in decent shape. Problem was he was still a bit on the slender side compared to some other people. The bounty hunter that Red had asked him to move had a good few pounds on him. So getting him up would have been a bit annoying.  

Looking back up towards Red when he offered to help him. “Was thinking of just rolling him or tying him to my horse.” Like the did down in Purgatory. Least it seemed like an easier way to get rid of a body. “But that probably the better idea.”

Much as Red was familiar with the folks down at Purgatory-- befriended quite a bit of them, even, and bedded a boy or two-- a fundamental difference remained between their methods regardless.

The corner of his mouth tugged up at Chris’ suggestion, even if he didn’t agree with it. “I won’t have a dead man pulled by horse around my home, amigo.”

Bending with his knees, he lifted when Chris did, walking with him and leading him towards the trees.

“It’s always disrespect to the dead that gets you haunted,” he said with a snort, “and besides...

“Burying helps a man remember these were people, too.”

Down the body went when they reached their destination, and Red gave a good arch of the back to be rid of the cricks in them.

“Stupid people, but people. That or I’m becoming sentimental.”

Red cocked his head for Chris to follow him back. He would have to pick up the other corpse, but before that, he led Chris to a shed and pointed out two shovels. If Chris really did mean to help him, then, well... that was how it was going to go.

Regardless of his decision, Red would heft the second corpse up over his shoulder and start moving back to where they’d left the first one.

[vengare]

Chris Larabee was in his clothes.

He wouldn’t be the first other person to wear them, of course. But the significant difference here was that... well, he didn’t think he’d ever see it. Nor did he ever think Chris would have a reason to do it.

The colour was a welcome contrast against his complexion, warm like his blond hair. Red didn’t realise he was staring until Chris started speaking.

“What.”

His damn...? Red turned his head, saw the tatters that were Chris’ shirt-- ah, yes, he’d come here the night before after some fight because it was closer than Four Corners, that’s right-- and then cleared his throat.

“Yes. It’s... fine. It is fine that you’re wearing it.”

Ridiculous. He knew he’d be sweating after the brief spot of work he had to do in the early morning, but there was no real reason for his hands to be sweating.

He wouldn’t think about it, so he wiped his palms on his jeans instead.

“Did you just wake up?”

[sharing is caring] - Your muse catches mine wearing their shirt, still in the process of buttoning it or pulling it on. // BECAUSE CHRIS IN THE RED SHIRT.

@vengare

How long had it been since he started looking for his damn shirt. He needed to start bringing a change of clothes apparently. Usually he didn’t have this issue. Still he was starting to get a little pissed off when it was taking so damn long. It had to be nearly ten minutes, not a word to the other man in the house or near it anyway. Lived on a farm could have easily been out tending to his crops while Chris tried not to start making a mess in his place. Finally he spotted the damn thing. Well what was left of it. Staring at the ruined shirt for a moment before grumbling letting it fall back to the floor. No way in hell he could wear that thing back to town. Well that meant he was going to have to borrow one. He was sure Red wouldn’t mind him using one of his shirts.

The other man seemed to have more colors in his wardrobe than Chis would have. Still he just grabbed the first one he could find. He felt amused that the shirt seemed to be a bright red button up. Least it was something in the style he tended to wear. Slipping it over his shoulder he was in the process of buttoning it up when he heard one of the doors open.

Turning around to see Vasquez standing in the door seeming to give him an odd look before looking back at the shirt he had half buttoned. It fit alright. Chris was maybe an inch taller but Vasque had a little more muscle to him but Chris didn’t think it was going to be that big of an issue.

“Finally found my damn shirt.” Chris told him pointing to where he left it. Going to pick that up at some point. Once he finished dressing. “Can’t wear that back into town. Didn’t think you’d mind me usin’ onea yours.” Chris wasn’t sure if he should just go on ahead an finish buttoning up the shirt or wait to see if it was going to be a problem.

[vengare]

PEDRO PASCAL as JAVIER PEÑA | NARCOS 3.08

[vengare]

– Kahlil Gibran (1883 – 1931), in a letter to Mary Elizabeth Haskell (1873-1964), November 10, 1912 in “Beloved prophet; the love letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell and her private journal“

[vengare]

stipantxrepellam​:

There was an appreciative quirk of his lips as he heard Red’s response.

“Be that as it may, not everyone remembers their roots. Hell, seems a lot of people don’t pay any mind to others even if they’re in the same boat. It’s nice that you look out for people, even if they’re a total stranger.”

He let out a soft laugh and nodded, watching as the other’s hand collided with his own arm. “Definitely makes a world like this one a bit less shittier. And I can certainly try to help cook. What’s on the menu for the evenin’?”

Silently, he followed his employer into his home and moved his eyes around as he took in the space.

While his home was simple, it was warm and inviting. Despite not knowing the other well in the slightest, it also felt very him. He gave the aura of a man that wasn’t frivolous by any means. “Your home is lovely, Red,” he commented as he moved to set his bags down where directed before following him into the kitchen.

Rory still couldn’t help but be amazed at the ease of which Red was offering his home up to someone he had only met hours ago. The man knew nothing of him, and yet, he was treating him as if he was an expected guest.

“Absolutely, I can chop. If my mama was still around, she’d tell you that’s the one thing I couldn’t mess up.”

The urge to ask Rory if his mother was often so harsh about his skills was difficult to refuse. Still, Red held strong-- if Rory thought him kind, it wouldn’t do good to take that image from him-- and moved away from the sink with a jerk of his head towards it so Rory could go wash his own hands, too.

“Good,” was all he said instead. “If you do it quick, we’ll eat it quicker.”

By the time Rory was done washing, Red had lined a whole head of garlic, three onions, and a thumb’s worth of ginger up alongside a chopping board and a knife for him to use.

“We’re having arroz frito,” he declared, adding bell peppers and green beans to the mix for Rory to cut, “so we’re putting whatever vegetables and meat I have left into rice I cooked yesterday.”

After a hard day’s work, Red felt it fitting to lay quite the quantity of ingredients out for their meal.

“You’ve tried chorizo?”

The pack of cured meat he opened was already sliced beforehand, nice and convenient. Red laid it out to his side as he got the stove started and laid a shallow pan atop it to heat. He’d cook the chorizo first, just enough to get it warm and for some of the juice to come out; it’d make everything taste so much better, to cook it in that.

“Tomorrow I’ll introduce you to everyone, but we’ve a man named Ferdinand-- his wife made this. It is to die for.”

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

He could see the look that the other man was sending him. Clearly he didn’t buy the idea that he could actually do it. Mean Chris had it in his mind that he was going to find a way to do just that. Though when he heard the okay, not an argument just a simple okay. Seemed to drain that need for an argument.

Well at least it seemed that he was going to be able to do something other than having to lay here and let someone else feed him. Anything was better than that really. Chris hated the idea of it. Which when the man seemed to agree with him calmed him some.

He was aware what he looked like. Narrowing his eyes at the pause Chris still moved his arms sot that he could push up on his elbows. God he hated it this already. Every movement seemed to take far too much energy.

Should have probably tried with this sooner had enough in him to actually pick himself up enough that he could get something to keep him from going back down.

“Got something in mind probably good to do it now. “ Next time he has something to do out of town he was bringing a couple of the guys. Should have done it this time. But he thought it would have been simple. No need to bring any of the rest of them if he wasn’t going to need the back up.

Well, if the man was going to be so demanding...

The only thing that kept Red from simply pulling him up and propping him against the pillow was how badly he didn’t want to have to redo any of the man’s stitches.

He didn’t open his mouth to respond, but he helped him with hands that were as firm as they were gentle. With strong arms, Red straightened the man from his lying position, leaned him delicately against the pillow, and kept an eye on his bandages all the while to make sure he didn’t move him too terribly.

The man couldn’t possibly sit up straight, not wounded as he was, but at least now he was elevated enough that eating by himself wouldn’t be like eating blind. He’d have to make sure he didn’t spill on himself on the longer route of the spoon from the bowl to his lips, but at least he had the line of sight to do it. Hopefully he had the steady hands for it, too.

Red picked the bowl up and handed it to him.

“Let’s see you do it yourself, then.”

He still doubted the man’s abilities, of course. But let it be known that Red wasn’t one to refuse a man a chance, even if what that man was hoping to do was stupid beyond all belief.

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

Chris of course noticed how quiet he got at the mention of an idea of a bounty clearly was on his head. For what and how big it was Chris didn’t think he was going to give him that information. Still he couldn’t help the slight twitch upwards in something of a smile. Looking slightly amused by the fact that he pretty much told him he was right. Just didn’t answer the question.

Didn’t say anything about Chris having already repaid his debt. They were paid to watch the town, but that had started to mean some of the surrounding and scattered homes just outside the boarder. Nettie Wells being a favorite for most of them. But it was starting to look like Chris was going to end up spending more time here. Someone was going to have to.

It wasn’t like he could argue with that. Chris had done plenty of things he had learned to start regretting once he realized what he was doing.

Catching the sheet that he was tossed his way to start covering up one of the bodies. Looking towards the bigger dead man he shouldn’t have seen that one coming. “I shoulda brought Josiah.” The bigger man would have been better at this than him.

Still had to clean this mess up didn’t they? Moving towards the body he was being told to start taking care a of the body.

He could hear the other man asking him about if he was good. He had enough practice at this at this point in his life. He knew what he was doing. “Fine.” He shot back. “Always gotta send the biggest ones they can find don’t they?”

Chris’ observation didn’t come without warrant. All Red could do was nod with the briefest little scoff in turn-- agreeing, but certainly not amused in the least by it.

“They think I’m a barbarian.”

Not that Red could blame them, he supposed. He’d killed enough of all sorts; he’d also just never stopped to consider the effect such a thing would have on his reputation, and now that he watched Chris try to get this man prepared for burial, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he considered the difference in size for them.

Eventually deciding that it would be best not to let the poor man break his back for a favour, Red came forward and helped him with the last of it: the covering, the tying. And, considering this was all dead weight, he made his way to the foot of the corpse and gestured with an upward cock of his head for Chris to stand on the other side of it.

“Lifting together makes it less like torture.”

Given that he had to get rid of corpses on his own most days, Red knew this intimately. He decided, if only to try and be a little kinder, it wouldn’t be too bad to help Chris now and come back for the other body later.

[vengare]

stipantxrepellam​:

Rory silently appreciated that Red blew the smoke away from him. There had been so many people he’d come across that paid no mind or care to others and huffed the cloud right into his face. It didn’t take long for him to gather that the other was considerate of others, but he was growing as fond as one could a stranger rather quickly with each interaction.

Rhetorical or not, he still answered with a simple, “Just arrived to these parts today, actually.” 

Though, he did refrain from going into further detail than that.

Rory remained quiet as his newest employer discussed all of the possibilities of lodging, his spirits began to dwindle more and more with each option. 

He didn’t have a horse, nor was there potential for him to get one within the near future. Part of why he traveled so far was because he was down on his luck with work and finances for a good while. In fact, part of why he was able to get so far was because he sold his horse.

Though, at the mention of a comuna, he felt his luck was restored.

“Oh, my Spanish is alright. You don’t grow up in Texas without learnin’ a bit. Though, it’s a bit rusty, I won’t lie. And I was always better at understandin’ it than speakin’ it, but I can hold my own in a conversation as long as the person doesn’t mind putting up with my gringo ass,” he responded with a warm chuckle lacing his words. “And, thank you for the offer of you home for the evening. I appreciate it more than you could know. How could I ever repay you?”

The idea of debt made Red snort, amused, before he shook his head. “You pay it forward, amigo. I was in your shoes once, as were all the people who work for me now.

“Shit world like this” -- he leaned forward, lightly smacking the back of his hand against Rory’s bicep -- “all we have are each other.

“I’ll take help for making dinner, though.”

Taking one last puff of his cigarette, he put it out in the ashtray on the small table by his chair, and then got to his feet as he took the ashtray with him and went inside, clearly intending for Rory to follow him as he went.

His home was simple, with cream-coloured walls and only the barest hints of decor. Red often bought them from stalls at the comuna he frequented, anything from banners to table coverings to carved wooden trinkets that were kept on a high shelf above a bookcase. The kitchen and sala were connected, and though a dining table for four existed, it looked like a) it wasn’t used much; and b) Red lived on his own for the most part, anyway.

“You can put your things here,” he said, gesturing to the general area of the sala for Rory to use. “The couch will be yours for the night, too.”

Depositing the ashtray on the table by the couch, Red moved from there to the kitchen, running his hands under the faucet there to wash under the cold spray.

“You know how to chop, Rory?”

[vengare]

Red could not put to words why he was so furious, but the whole time they rode to this apparent prison that had held Chris for God knew how long, all he could think about was slamming the barrel of his gun to the back of this dirty sheriff’s head and putting a bullet through him. He wanted to shoot him in the head, in the neck, right through the chest-- but along the way, Red said nothing save for a bitten out ‘I’m fine’ when Nathan had asked if he was all right.

And, truly, he was all right. But all he saw was red, and all he thought of was injustice, and the fact that even a gringo like Chris Larabee could be so wrongfully accused and thrown into a world of torture had him despising the lack of law all over again.

Was he relieved that Chris was alive all this time? Yes.

Did this make him any less furious about what had happened to him? About the fact that Chris had been away for more than half a fucking month before they realised he was gone, and that it turned out he was in some shitstain of a prison the whole fucking time?

God, no.

It was rage that powered him. It was rage that had his hands shaking as they waited for the gates of the prison to open. But when finally they were allowed in, Red hadn’t allowed himself even a moment’s thought before he threw himself off his horse, rolled on the ground onto a knee, and charged forward with a cocked rifle in hand.

It’s Larabee’s company! he could hear someone shout as a warning was sounded, and all he roared in turn was, “YOU GIVE ME THE GRINGO BACK, YOU SONS OF BITCHES!”

And because Red had broken into a run and the shots had started firing, he hadn’t heard Josiah’s little comment of, well, at least he’s got a one-track mind.

He wasn’t wrong, though. Red took to the ground, bullets only barely missing him as his shoes pounded the dirt. He turned as he went, fired the bastards that he saw aiming at him, and though one bullet grazed his arm and tore his shirt open, he barely felt the sting and the subsequent slide of blood.

If the man who worked so hard to make sure Red was alive was dead... if the man that he’d promised not to let die was dead...

His hand was steady as he fired, each gunshot exploding in the air, and when he needed a reload, he hid behind a barrel-- a barrel whose side was shot, the shards of wood sent flying close to his ear-- and grunted as he slid bullets from his bandolier and fed them into the rifle instead. But Red was quick to get back to his feet again, teeth grit and heart hammering, and with a short swear of how you fucking corrupt little fucks aren’t fucking killing me he moved, and moved, and moved.

And finally, Red reached a hole in the ground with bars that covered it. The man beside it was shivering, beginning to convulse, but Red paid him no mind and looked instead at the man only barely lit by moonlight at the bottom of the hole.

“Chris,” he breathed out, and with a short command for Chris to move away, Red fired into the lock for the cage to break it, throw the bars off, and jump in with him.

“Shit. Chris. What the fuck happened to you?”

Blood. There was blood on his arm, and Red’s eyes widened as he looked at it. There was no time for relief, not yet, and Red’s anger swelled instantly to a worry that had him moving Chris’ arm down.

“Bite?” He remembered the man outside who trembled and shivered, and-- remembering they were out in the country-- his eyes flashed with recognition. “Snake?

“We gotta sit you down. Come on.”

@vengare​ Inmate 78

Another eight fucking days. He didn’t know what he had done this time around to piss him off. Maybe he just didn’t like him. Seemed to be the current mood of the man. Didn’t like that he was threatening him and that he kept bucking back at him. So he decided to give him a reason to put him back into this fucking hole. The guard, he couldn’t remember his name, he seemed like a good man. Just in a bad place. They really better hoped that he died before he got out. He meant what he said about taking them both down.

Two god damn weeks. Where the hell were the guys? He knew he said he was going to be gone for a few days. Needed a bit of a break from the town but when had he ever been gone this long? They had a job to do after all.

Chris looked up when he realized that someone was there. He could feel a crazed smirk from on his face as he lunged for him. The damn bars of course got in the way having him move back into a corner. When he said he better pray he didn’t get out wasn’t an empty threat. Chris meant what he said about taking him and the sheriff down. That man in the infirmary? He needed help. The man here was ready to send him out to his death.

It took Chris a while to realize that the warden had something in hand. At least until he was dumping whatever was in it into the hole with him. The sound of that rattle told him all he needed to know. A fucking rattler! Hell no. This was not how Chris was letting himself die. Not while this prick still breathed.

Pressed against the dirt watching the creature move jumping away when it charged at him avoiding getting hit.

He could hear him speaking the whole time. Taunting him about this shit. Chris just decided fuck he needed to go for it. Had to do something. Reaching down he managed to grab the damn thing jumping to move towards the bars again, cursing under his breath when he felt something sharp slice into his other arm having an idea what just happened there before latching the snake onto the man’s neck. Seeing him fall Chris took a step back looking towards what had been his free arm.

“Aw fuck.” He managed stumbling back towards the wall. Trying to think of something that worked with dealing with a snake bite. He needed to get that key too.

“About fuckin time.” He muttered to himself as he went to try to get a hold of the key. He wouldn’t have long before this started to be a problem. He was already starting to feel a little off and it was only going to keep getting worse. Still one hand held onto the bars as he tried to reach for the keys.

The key was just a little out of reach and the numbness was already starting to kick in. Making grabbing for the keys even more difficult than it already was.

He needed to take a second. Get a quick breather in. Shit. He could hear gunshots. Knew that meant they were getting closer just had to finish their fight. He was going to need Nathan’s help now.

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

Chris shot him a confused look when he said something in Spanish. “Going to assume that was probably offensive.” He was clearly upset with the idea that Chris had decided to follow him out here. But here he was anyway.

“What’s it look like I’m doin here?” Chris responded while he grabbed hold of the rifle he kept on his saddle.

“Didn’t get the chance to pass it to them directly. Had JD pass it along if he ran into any of’em.” He informed him figuring they should at least have a few minutes. Unless of course they decided to talk to the sheriff first. Red a wanted man they might do just that.

Chris was about to start moving his horse to a better spot before being pushed down behind the rock cover. Guess they decided to talk to JD first. Great. Staying down behind his spot of cover watching as he moved the horse out of the line of sight. Probably going to have to go looking for him after the shooting stopped.

“Decided you can take them all on yourself eh?” Not that he hadn’t tried this. “Here now. So looks like you’re going to have to deal with it.” He hadn’t even bothered looking up to him making sure his rifle was ready before setting it beside him against the rock before double checking his revolver. He seemed rather calm about getting ready to start a shot out. “How far off are they? He asked turning so he was now crouched facing towards Red.

Chris’ accusation of his preferred method of fighting alone didn’t fall on deaf ears, but all Red did in turn was scowl.

“I don’t like innocent people getting in my gunfights,” was all he had to say to that. “And these men aren’t here for you.”

It seemed that didn’t matter much to Chris, though. And while Red would have to do his best to keep him from dying-- damn it, if Chris was here to help him and he ended up dead, he’d definitely end up haunting him for being the reason for it, wouldn’t he?-- he told himself there was no point in arguing any further.

“They’re far enough I can move position before they see,” he said, brows furrowing. “I trust your skills with a rifle are good if that’s what you brought.

“Cover me. I’ll meet them out in front” -- as was the right thing to do, to allow these men their accusations before he put bullets between their eyes -- “and as soon as things get bad...”

Hand clapping Chris’ shoulder this time, Red nodded once. Start shooting was probably something the man understood. Then he moved away from the rock, crouched down and taking cover in some tall outcropping of grass instead. This way, at least he was less likely to give Chris’ position away.

True enough, the company of men-- five of them, which would’ve been a dollop on his own-- arrived. And like he said, Red got to his feet with his gun drawn to meet them, his lip curled in an irritated scowl.

The horses came to a stop close to him, and as far as he knew, none of them noticed where Chris was hiding.

“So you’re the dirty Mexican that killed ol’ John.”

And not one to lie (nor argue nationalities), Red only said, “Sí.”

They weren’t creative, at any rate. It was always the same shit-- that John McArthur was a friend, or a man they rode with, or owed them this or that, or that his company had had someone they knew-- and now was no exception. Now, too, Red made it clear he didn’t want to hurt anybody, but these days nobody cared about that, and the moment one of the men behind their leader drew his gun, Red was quick to fire first to get him right in the chest before darting to the side to avoid the rain of bullets undoubtedly ready for him.

He was hoping to do a quick sidestep run to take some of them down, but hoped that Chris would be able to pick off at least one or two by surprise from his hiding place while everyone focused on him.

[vengare]

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

Chris knew that he was going off to make something to eat. Part of him wanted to get a better idea of where he was. But he found himself dozing off again in a matter of moments. Body still knowing that it needed more rest than his head ever would.

Only thing he didn’t like about that was the fact that he hadn’t even been aware that the other man had come back into the room until he spoke to him again. Starting slightly out of his sleep eyes shifting towards the other man for a second.

Seemed to take another second for the question to register. Feed him. Trying again to force himself into something of a sitting position. Because he hated it when someone had to feed him. Drove Nathan insane, no matter how banged up he got he always tried to at least do that.

“I can at least feed myself.” That was the hope anyway. He hated feeling helpless like this, the idea that he couldn’t even feed himself only made that idea worse. Hell of a way to meet someone right? Least he was fairly certain the man wouldn’t go through the trouble of patching him up if he had plans to kill him. So didn’t think he had that to worry about. He was still uneasy, new place and a stranger.

I can at least feed myself, the man said, and Red’s eyes narrowed in a definite sign of doubt.

But all that left his mouth was, “Okay.”

For the moment, he set the bowl and the glass down, but the reasons for this were made clear as he approached the bed his fool patient lay on and cocked his chin up in a gesture for him to move.

“Get up on your elbows. If we move this pillow right, it can support you in a...” His head tilted a measure to the left, trying to think of a better word than ‘pathetic’ to describe it. “...half-lean kind of way.”

Which, while not the best position, was still better than the kind of pathetic stance the man had managed so far. If he cooperated, though, then Red would lean the pillow up against the wall, folding it a bit to provide support as he did, and would subsequently offer to lean the man up, as well.

He’d have to move the stranger slow to be able to shift his position, but at least with help it’d keep his wound from jostling too much. Red just didn’t want to get any of those stitches back open.

[vengare]

myfriendsareenablingmyshit​:

Chris smirked towards the two hunters he had managed to take down himself. “Clearly not the case this time then.” Though there was still the worry about the fact that there seemed to be more of them showing up. Maybe it was a part of the group that came by before. Not like Chris knew if he met the whole gang or not. Would have explained why they showed up here. Well hopefully anyway. Part of him was starting to wonder if he should actually have a look into the wanted posters.

“Didn’t have to.” Chris could take a guess that was the issue here. “Pretty sure your number of visitors is starting to give that away.” He was guessing the number was pretty big. But then JD tended to look at wanted posters when they came in. Didn’t say anything about seeing Red on one. But then, he was sure he had seen Vin’s at some point. Never said a word about that either. Kid had a pretty good sense of loyalty. Well that and knowing that if Chris or Vin seemed ok with them probably not someone to worry about.

That was the thing to worry about wasn’t it? Getting rid of the idiots that thought this was a good idea. Repaying his debt? Chris knew what he was talking about. Figured that had actually been paid when the last idiots came to town.

“Thought we took care that back when your less bit of ‘not trouble’ came ridin in.” Adding a bit of sarcasm in part of that. “Heard somethin’ about them askin questions. Didn’t think they’d be dumb enough to just charge in.” Red didn’t seem to want the company most of the time. Still, he wasn’t that far away from town, and he came in from time to time. Might as well add him into the growing group homesteaders that the seven tended to look out for.

Chris’ unwavering certainty in his bounty had Red’s lips twitching briefly into a frown, but once more he chose not to acknowledge it-- not directly, at least. Not while he still had whatever bouts of anonymity were left in him.

Similarly, he crinkled his nose at the thought of Chris’ debt already being paid. But this, too, was left unacknowledged for now, if only because when he poked at the possibility of worry he’d been comforted by the idea that it couldn’t actually be worry that brought Chris here.

“It’s not about being ‘dumb’,” Red muttered instead, hands on his hips as he considered the corpses once more. “Seeking blood makes men stupid.”

That, at least, he would know.

Gesturing for Chris to wait there, Red went around his house, and it was about half a minute before he returned with two rolled-up bundles of cloth. One of them was tossed in Chris’ direction-- “If you’re still wanting to help out of the goodness of your heart, then wrap the bigger one up.”

And without a word, he rolled his own cloth out by where the corpses lay, lifted the smaller body in his arms, and then lowered it down. The arms were arranged, folded so both hands rested on the dead man’s chest, and then the cloth was moved to cover him neatly so Red could seal it up with a few ties.

After that, he looked Chris’ way to see if he’d actually started to do the same. “You good?”

[vengare]

NARCOS 2.03 | Our Man in Madrid