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You gazed at Beaver Hollow’s entrance, which resided Javier, stiff as a board, shoulders squared and hips narrowed. Pacing every so often as he fiddled with his carbine.
The sight alone made you cringe, pitying the feller who stumbled upon the camp while Javier was on shift.
Drawing attention to your presence with steady steps, he turned towards you in a trance, eyes clouded over with deep thought.
“Hello.” Javier greeted absentmindedly, rolling up the sleeves of tattered shirt.
“You alright?” He wondered softly, as if he was nearly confused by your sudden presence.
“Of course.” You replied, hoping the matched tenderness of your tone was convincing enough.“I was jus’ wondering if we could talk? You still haven’t told me what happened in uh— Guarma .” You proposed hesitantly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Just thinking about the boys ending up there made your head spin.
“Can it wait? I needa focus , things are complicated right now— ‘nd I’m sure Ms. Grimshaw needs you.” He replied, an automatic response he has given you more than once since his return.
You sighed, gazing down at his recently shined cowboy boots. Javier held so much loyalty, you wondered if he had lost himself in the process. As if he broke out of his trance he shuffled around, rubbing a harsh calloused hand down his mouth and chin.
“Okay — ok, sure, mi amor — come.” He rambled softly with a disoriented head shake. Javier trudged up to you and placed a gentle hand on your back, ushering you to a nearby log.
After a brief moment of silence he sighed tiredly, if you did not know any better, you would think it was in relief. Waiting for you to break the ice, he wrapped an arm around you and welcomed you into his warm embrace.
“I— I thought you were dead, Javier…” you trailed off, your face being a constant reminder of how much you worried and cared about the man. You felt his grip tighten in reassurance before speaking.
“Dead? Oh— mi amor , you know I would never leave you.” He cooed, his silky voice nearly resembling the man he used to be.
You abruptly leaned away from him, eyes glossy from the tears that welled up. His rough thumbs responded almost immediately with small shushing noises exiting under his breath. He began stroking your cheeks, preparing for the tears threatening to fall.
“Please no tears.” He whispered, the sight of you broke his heart— he knew his love didn’t deserve this, but you had to trust him.
“‘M scared, I dunno what’s goin’ on anymore.” Your voice shook, chest heaving as you desperately tried to blink away the tears. You had always tried to be strong for him, the last thing you wanted was for him to be distracted while on a job.
“Don’t be, hermosa, there’s a rat in the gang, s’all. We're takin’ care of it.” Javier’s vague words left a lot of room for interpretation, causing you to shutter nervously. Poor Molly was all you think about, and how her love for Dutch killed her in the end.
“I know you would never ... mi novia, I know .” Javier reassured, catching onto your fearful thoughts.“Now, what about that talk?” He changed the subject, planting a small kiss upon the crown of your head before leaning away.
You paused with a deep breath, with everything that has happened since Black Water, you were not sure how the man would react anymore. Things have changed more than you expected since the two of you have joined the gang.
“ Well , I found a place, it’s a bit to the west—“ You began hesitantly.
“A place? Why didn’t you say? That’s great, I’ll let Dutch know.” He cut off your timid words, grinning brightly, a rare smile you usually can’t force out of him if you tried.
“Not for the gang.” You quickly added as Javier frowned in confusion, staring at you over his brow-line.
“A small cabin with a garden, birds in the pines up yonder.” You describe in awe, in attempts to win him over. The both of you gazed off the small cliff side, trying to imagine the place despite the reality of the damp smog you currently resided in.
“It ain’t Tahiti, but it’ll be quiet for us. ” You continued, not noticing the concerned look plastered upon the man.
Javier hummed gently in consideration, entertaining your thoughts as he conceptualized your vision of a quiet life as a farm man, just for a moment.
“Don’t we already have that? I mean — besides the cabin.” Javier asked, suddenly sizing you up. His stare possessed a dreadful amount of tension and certainty— as if his question were a test.
You met Javier's tranquil stare; a long hardened face, he was simply a husk of a man he once was. It felt like years ago when he would treat you so tenderly, like a prize he had won and held sacred, something he could only have. His gentle, yet timid hands that used to run along your figure in the night now seemed like a mere dream.
No longer a bright eyed cowboy, but a dangerous outlaw, consumed in drunken power and delusion, his trigger happily gunning down any poor soul that dares to get in his way— or look at him the wrong way.
This new reality broke everyone, Javier was no exception. Bandoliers decorated his vested torso, his wounds earned in Guarma still raw, paying it no mind to rest and heal.
“You sure you’re alright?” His words broke through your clouded mind, you gazed back at his prying eyes in hesitation.
“Leave with me. Let’s run away.” The words finally escaped you, your heart now pounding in your ears. The added tension was bound to break at any moment.
The outlaw now lazily wore a cigarette on his lip, it sagging ever so slightly as he contemplated your words carefully. Javier seemed to always deliberately think about what you said; that is just the kind of man he is. But if he could properly rationalize his reaction was a shot in the dark. Before too long his dull eyes turned ablaze in blinded fury as if you spoke blasphemy.
A sharp breath exited his nose, his broken fists clenched at his side as he prepared to speak, a powder keg waiting to blow.
“My bones break for you, I’ve killed for you, fuck — amor, if I didn’t know any better I’d die for you. ” Javier’s words cut through the air like knives, sharp but quiet.
“—and now you’re asking to leave ? Is my loyalty not good enough— have I not proven worthy to you ?” He ranted, presenting a side you had not seen before.
But you had no defence, Javier was the most loyal lover and companion you ever had. Time and time again he proved that, with no hesitation he would put himself in between any dangers you could face. A promise he made to himself that night , unable to bear the thought of losing you. Additional scars and wounds that would be nonexistent if he were not protecting an extension of himself.
“Answer me!” He shouted, not caring if the gang— or what was left of it heard. “Why can’t you trust me?” Javier’s voice suddenly lowered again in betrayal, like a horse who finally broke under the stress of Dutch van der Linde’s wrath.
“Javier—“ You mumbled softly in shock, begging for some sort of reasoning from the outlaw.
“I trust you, Javier, it’s —““Then what do you want from me?” He spat, arms gesturing out in frustration.
“I want you , Javier.”
“Me?! — I am yours! I’ve been yours since that night at the lake! Whether you know that or not, estúpida .”That night you two had snuck away for a swim while the gang rested in Clemens Point. The lake looked like glass, reflecting off the starry night, only to be broken by your intimacy. Your eager fingertips ran over the cowboys scars and insecurities, gentle lips trailing down his olive skin, from his cheeks to his collarbone, covering every area not submerged.
In midst of Javier’s vulnerabilities he couldn’t do anything but hold you dumbfoundedly, his trembling hands resting underneath your thighs which wrapped around his hips. The close contact made blood rush to his head, and among other places.
He remained that way for the entire swim, afraid to make the wrong move and scare you off, despite your naked body quite literally holding onto his, an unmistakable gesture for the trust you held for him.
Javier swore up and down there were twice as many stars in the sky that night , which only encouraged him to make that promise to you. It was also that night he knew you officially had to be his, despite Micah’s advances—“If you trust me, you’d trust Dutch’s plan .” He offered calmly, resting a hand on his belt.
“They’re picking us off one by one— Javi, we’re on borrowed time , you must see that.”
Javier adjusted his neck handkerchief, gaze locked on the ground away from you and the camp dwellers.
“Why don’t’cha go, Dutch needs me strong .” He murmured simply, unaware of the extent you would obey.
Your hands ran along the crumbling log bark before raising to your feet, wishing the man could see things how he used too. Quiet foreign curses and phrases then fired off the outlaws tongue while you departed, you recognized some of the words being that of a female dog . As you spun on your heel, the entire gang silently watched the dispute unfold from camp.
“Fine! Sit here and wait for Dutch to turn the water into wine!”
“Oh fuck off, chica!”
And those were the last words he spoke to you, they painstakingly replayed in his mind for the rest of the day. No one dared to ask the short-tempered outlaw what happened— not even Micah.
The following day Javier figured he’d offer an apology to you, and perhaps convince you to prolong the running away. Emerging into your shared tent that early morning revealed an empty cot, along with your ransacked belongings at a disarray.
After asking around camp, no one seemed to know where you wandered off to, everyone had problems of their own— the girls spat curses at him after witnessing yesterday's event, they were the least likely to talk, especially after what happened to Molly.
The guilt and worry ate him alive throughout the day, he spent it scouting around, fearing the worst— what kind of man was he if he couldn’t keep the only promise he made?
Defeated, the outlaw rode back into camp, Dutch lecturing him about his prolonged absence, while Micah sat at the wooden table behind them. A shit eating grin plastered on his face.
Javier’s suspicions grew as his temper shortened, afterall, Micah was the only one he didn’t ask.
“See my girl today? Hope not, for your sake.” He asked casually, gesturing towards the man. Micah grinned at his obvious uneasiness, dragging his boots from the table.
“I was gon’ follow ‘er, partner, honest , but she’d threaten to gun me down, of sorts.” He shrugged, stretching out his arms lazily.
“Where is she?” Javier demanded with a shout, further approaching Micah.
“Easy now.” He replied, reaching slowly into his inner vest pocket, then presented a folded piece of paper he had nabbed from the tent after you fled.
With an aggressive snatch of the paper, Javier read your note, a western cattle town scribbled down with a simple “I’ll wait for you.”
Written so beautifully, he ran his fingers over the letters, but was rudely interrupted by a certain condescending voice.
“So — is she our rat, amigo? ”
Javier glared at the man over the paper he clutched, unable to speak.
“Ah, well , I knew she was no good, shoulda just let me have—”
“Shut up, Micah— Don’t speak of her .” He hissed after a contemplating pause, desperately trying to restrain himself from disposing his pent up anger on the shyster.
“C’mon cowpoke… only jokin’ , ya’know how women are. ”
“Sure . You weren’t this chipper the nights she’d lay with me, cabrón. ” Javier growled, taking a step closer to him, cracked knuckles beginning to bleed from the strain— anything to get the bastard to shut up.
Micah chuckled sourly, his teeth gritting as he rocked in his chair.
“Whatever you say, Mr. Escuella .”Javier spat at the bastard's feet before crumpling up the letter with a toss, he then watched the paper engulf in flames and eventually turn to ash. But his love for you remained.
That same night Javier sat on the edge of the path, unbothered to stand for his shift, revolver placed in the dirt next to him.
He dug his boot into the dirt, creating a little divot with his heel, which only made his injured leg burn and sting, the pain keeping his mind at bay.
Restlessly propped up against the same log the pair sat yesterday, he sighed in despair, freeing his aching head from his bowler hat.
The cigarette Javier desperately puffed on nearly burnt his bloody fingers, his cheek puffy and purple. For what it was worth the outlaw would have killed Micah with his fists alone if Charles wasn't around to pry him off. Flicking away his ash he ran his fingers over the bloody patch, his mind unable to stray away from you .
Leaning back on the log, Javier gazed up into the nights sky— and there were twice as many stars as usual — he huffed shakily, thinking of your words out loud.
“Borrowed time.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was a warm day in New Austin, the orange rays blanketing the barren dirt landscape, and not a cloud in the sky. Javier only imagined finding himself wandering these lands again, but yet he returned on what seemed to be borrowed time.A few years had passed since he last saw you at Beaver Hollow. The man could not bear to show his face, the embarrassment of being wrong about Dutch was an ego check it say the very least.
Yet your note lived in the far corner of his mind, a small cabin just north of MacFarlane's Ranch from his understanding.
It did not take the man long to find it, local cowpokes cowered at the sight of the large Mexican outlaw sitting upon an even larger steed, interrogating them about a maiden. It was almost as if the best pieces of you resembled him, immediately reminding the folk of who it was he was searching for.
Boaz grunted against Javier’s spurs, digging deep into the loose red dirt below. The sunbeams which crept through the dry pine trees created quite the atmosphere, allowing Javier to get lost in his head, even if it were just for a few moments of bliss.
Despite the directions given to him, Javier hoped you had moved on after all these years, fled somewhere safer, started a new life, perhaps changed your name as well. Somewhere he would never find you.
Boaz continued to race down the winding path, feeding Javier’s anticipation against the warm breeze. As it gusted past the side of his head, loose strands from his tied hair tickled his ears, merely reminding the man how badly he needed a haircut.
The starving grass which bordered West Elizabeth held a yellow tinge, the land rolled and waved, flourishing with birds and wildlife. Javier reckoned he has not been to the area before, but you were not lying about how appealing it was— a perfect home for you two.
Upon whipping around the corner, abruptly revealed a small cabin with songbirds singing to him in the trees. The place was quiet, cozy, and seemingly inhabited, with small smoke stacks exhausting from the brick chimney.
Bringing Boaz to a halt, there was no sign of you— but sure enough a big black cloud skulked in the nearby pen, following you wherever you wandered like a burden.
Javier stiffly slid off Boaz, his knees nearly giving out from under him as his boots crunched onto the dirt. The beast was grazing on hay as he approached the fence post
After whistling and calling your shire a few times, Javier was promptly ignored, perhaps the slow and ominous brute heard the man call him el diablo one too many times.
He was still a strong believer the only reason the horse broke for you was out of pity— you looked like a child struggling to climb him every endeavor. Maybe the beast had a soft spot for you, just like himself.
But now the old shire was relieved from his saddle, serenading in the New Austin sun, not bothered to obey the envious man’s command.
Javier leaned against the corral post, admiring what he could have had with you, the thought of being a family man loomed over his shoulders and displayed no signs of leaving.
You and Javier ran together prior to joining Dutch, less for money and more for survival. Your past crimes covered bounty boards and train stations as a permanent reminder, never forgetting the wrongs that were written. That price only increased once Mexico inevitably caught wind of all the messy jobs in neighboring lands.
He drowned and you sank with him, the price of his sins were bricks added to your back. Being his accessory, the government saw you as a pawn, smart and knowledgeable, if caught— Javier would come for you, and they would be ready for him.
Those days were nearly from another lifetime.
Now under Allende’s ruling fist, he offered him a twisted plea deal of sorts; protection at the cost of something the man held more dearly than life itself—you. Your capture was not about the money nor status, but simply a test of his loyalty to Allende; if Javier did this job, he’d do anything.
The poor man’s convoluted loyalty never got him far, proving time and time again, leading him only to dead ends and false hopes. Charismatic attributes and big promises was something Javier foolishly gave everything to with a blind eye, something you always warned him about.
“Javier?—“
Your voice could have made him leap out of his own skin. As he hesitantly turned towards you, his gut twisted into something mean. You were beautiful as ever, after all these years you waited for him— just like you promised.
“Never thought I’d see you again, especially in the west.” You spoke again in disbelief, rag wiping your hands clean of a job he should have been doing.
Your voice only lived in his memories, hearing it again nearly whipped Javier back into shape, feeling sick for your puppy love he desperately relied on so long ago.
“Home sweet home.” The man swallowed dryly, throwing his arms out awkwardly and gesturing towards the open lands around you both.
Before his thoughts could catch up to the moment, you ran to embrace him, flinging yourself into his arms with a long awaited kiss. Javier grunted softly against your lips, staggering back to support you, the extra attention only reminding him how saddle sore he really was.
Just for a moment things felt normal, a feeling he was searching for since you split. He had a place in this cruel world once again, everywhere had a price on his head, no place to retreat to besides you— you were home.
Perhaps he could head tail between his legs back to Allende, saying you disappeared.
Maybe he could take you to Canada, or a tropical island— oh, anywhere but Guarma.
We must leave,
Javier’s unsaid words pricked beneath his skin, prodding relentlessly at his deepest desires for redemption.
“Oh—amor.”
Was all the man could choke out, the words exiting pitiful and weak, a near cry for help you assumed was just your bittersweet reunion.
Leaning away you smiled coyly at him, admiring your lost cowboy;Your time apart was not easy on Javier, his hardened stare and the chip on his shoulder now set in stone.
The constant blazing sun of Mexico, along with surviving off rationed canned beans really took a toll on the man. His face was dull and lacking the usual pigment he wore so handsomely when Mr. Pearson cooked for everyone.
Javier’s newfound demeanor only put emphasis on his sharp brows peeking from under his bowler cap brim, residing above dark cunning eyes, ready to match any cowpuncher who dared challenge him.
Over Javier’s shoulder was where his mount rested, hoove digging into the dirt at the end of the cabin’s path.
“—and Boaz?” You began after a shared silence, slowly approaching the overworked horse.
“Still kickin’.” He uttered gently, a large hand scratching the back of his neck.
Boaz never really liked you, or anyone besides Javier that is. It wasn’t until the gang hunkered down in Colter for the stubborn bastard to take a liking to you.
The weather and unpredictable circumstances was not easy on the gang, including the horses, causing rations to be small among the mounts.
You always carried treats in your satchel to gain Boaz’s affection, and your efforts would eventually succeed in Colter. You would secretly slip him sugar cubes every time you left the shack, he must have appreciated the extra attention. Javier barely recognized Boaz trotting up to him in the snow, you mounted on top wearing a proud grin.
You wore a similar grin now, full of satisfaction and pride that he returned to you— with warmth flowing through him, his heart rapidly thumped in his ears, all the pent up feelings for you were reopening like floodgates.
“What’a nice feller, huh.” You cooed to the mount after a slow approach.
Showing no distress Boaz allowed your kind pats and rubs. Tenderly nudging you, the horse’s chops tried sneaking its way into your pockets, searching for the snacks you usually held after a long journey.
“Ai, fácil!”
Javier exclaimed, quickly guiding Boaz’s large snout away, the loving gestures nearly toppling you over.
“Guess I’m glad he still remembers me.” You beamed, tipping your hat lower to shield yourself from the beating sun.
“Or perhaps your donations, amor.” Javier quipped softly, his eyes wandering meekly.
Something besides time passing seemed different about him, you could not quite pinpoint it. Javier was always a timid man at first when it came to his lover, maybe your time apart presented this old side of him.
You knelt slightly, peeking under his sunken head which hung towards the ground.
“Javier? You don’t look so good.”
Your soft words managed to dig their way through his ringing ears, the man squinted his eyes tightly before swiping his lids with rough fingers.
“Uh— maybe you oughta sit for a bit, I think you’re overdressed for this heat.”
Your words broke through once again, giving a small tug on his poncho, his disoriented vision cluttered with black floating spots as you guided towards the porch.
As his vision continued to warp, the cabin doubled and skewed while you put him in the shade.
Javier knew you were speaking, your voice fading in and out irregularly, piercing his ears every so often.
The words felt like they were being consumed by the ocean, his head bobbed up and down as if he were drowning. All he could think about was Dutch’s screams over the storm and waves, as he was about to be consumed by the large void.
But Dutch snagged him before being swept away, yanking him upon the tiny rowboat that threatened to tip from the added stress. Javier’s senses were waterlogged, rejecting the mean salty water from his lungs. As he gasped for air; the only thing he thought of was you.
“S’alright, son, You’re not dying today!” Was the first thing he heard. He faded in and out of consciousness as Dutch beat the sea water out of him, his ribcage rattling under each and every smack.
Javier sometimes wonders if Dutch should have just let him die, abandon him and allow the dark waters to engulf him whole, repaying his sins to his maker. Maybe his death would free you of your burdens.
He felt like his time had withered before Dutch had saved him anyways. Being a prisoner in Guarma is what convinced him that he would never make it back to you, sealing the deal. Your previous words borrowed time scratched at his skin again, yearning to be acknowledged.
“Ah well, I knew you’d come crawling back, you’re here for a reason.” You would always say to him after a particularly dangerous run with the gang. He would dismiss you with a mumble and a kiss, but always knew he was lucky to be alive as more of his brothers began to fall.
Sometimes he would catch you talking to a disgruntled Arthur as he packed his horse.
Upon inquiring about your words, Arthur being a somewhat vague man would shortly grumble;
“Jus’ focus on the job, and returnin’ to your woman, Javier.”
—and he always did. Javier knew you did not worry about him much, at least outwardly. But he did notice Arthur’s presence whenever trouble presented itself.
~“Javier— some water.”
Your words along with a canteen dangled in front of him, the prior hallucination of a watery grave was almost enough to empty his stomach.
Javier stared back towards your shire lounging in his corral, his mind once again wandering back to the life he could have had with you.
In the midst of his tunnelling vision, a lean coyote lingered through his gaze, stalking towards him, icy eyes sending daggers into his before diminishing.
“Javier. Say something.” Your words were now much clearer to him, breaking through his consciousness, the ringing disappeared from his mind fog.
“‘M alright.” He muttered, spitting out the bitter taste from his mouth.
“I reckon you oughta take it easy, being an old man n’ all now.”Javier frowned at you and blinked a couple times, jaw agape, processing the pun you made at his dismay.
“Ha— so sorry, chica, ‘suppose I’m no longer the young buck you remember.”
He replied sarcastically, his voice both bold and hoarse as he raised back to his feet, every step whining for rest.
“Ride with me?” Javier suddenly asked as if nothing happened. It took you by surprise, he had just arrived after all.
“Alright.” You obliged shortly after a pause. “Let me grab my belt.” You continued, motioning towards the missing holsters on your frame.
“No need.” He cut you off quickly, his voice leaving traces of urgency.
“Boaz is packed.”
You eyed him up, watching the man shutter under your antagonizing gaze, how he hoped you were not suspicious of his intentions after all this time. But rightfully so, the man was yellow-bellied.
But you had no reason not to trust him.
You were not exactly sure where Javier was taking you, but for now his company was enough to keep you satisfied. The ride was eerily quiet, even for his standards, being a man of few words.
After riding a little down south he brought you to a small mountain that overlooked Mexico. He perched you both on a small flat area, just in time for the sun to sink below the land.
Javier stared over the horizon, he never really did think about how big the south was, yet how small he felt in comparison. A glimmer caught onto his peripheral, turning towards the shine was the pendent he had given you, when you both first started running with the gang.
The feeling presented itself again, feeling so small in the world— you were the home he had been searching for since the gang's fallout. It was always you.
He sank into his memories, a vessel of his former self was all that remained.
You two were quite away from your newly shared camp, with all the members and leads, the moments you had alone became quite sparse.
“What do you think, Javi?” Your sudden presence caught him off guard.
“The gang?—“ he pondered your words, leaning against a shady oak.
“I suppose they’re family for now, señorita. We’re much safer, and they’re good to us.” Javier replied, a hand brushing over the stubble on his jaw. You smiled gently with a nod, making your uneasiness all too obvious.
“It’s just temporary, amor, once we have the money to get on our feet— it’ll be the two of us again.” He reassured, a polite arm sliding around your waist.
Javier remembers the look in your eye, doubtful and full of sorrow, but you still trusted him, knowing he would never lead you astray. The same he thought about Dutch.
Repositioning himself behind you, he dug a necklace from his pocket, draping it over your chest and clasping it. You fidgeted in surprise against his movements, gazing down at the beautiful silver pendant that glistened off the very same sun. Before you could say a word he planted a kiss on your lips, gentle and quick before mounting Boaz.
“I promise!”
He called out. After blowing a kiss to you, he was off to assist the gang. He didn’t have much money at the time, but Javier always knew how to make things work—Oh how naive of him— bright eyed and lovesick, he wanted to make a woman out of you, settle down. That is, before Dutch’s plan captivated him. Which ultimately led to this mess, but who is he kidding, he never really had a chance anyways.
Javier thought back with immense regret, wishing he was more romantic with you in a way, officially making you his chica earlier on, instead of prolonging it due to the possibility of death. He always feared that courting would further your heartbreak if something bad were to happen.
It was his own unaddressed way to cope with the harsh reality of survival and being an outlaw, he always prioritized your safety over intimacy until joining the gang. When he looks back on it, your shared time at Horseshoe Overlook and Clemons Point were some of the best times of his life.
Around that time of riding with the gang was when your relationship with him really began to evolve. The potential competition of other men drove Javier and his intimacy up a wall— his usual gentle lips ghosting over yours turned into small nips, and purple blotches he would mark on your neck late at night. A tight palm covering your mouth which muffled the moans of his name, words the man would kill to hear in such an uncaged manner. He entertained no confusion of who you belonged to; even if he did not make things official until that night at the lake.
Javier had nearly forgotten the sun had already set, and he somehow had no recollection of it. He looked down at you, only in a thin shirt as you gazed longingly off the mountain side.The final sunset you shared was simply a ticking clock for him.
“Cold?” He whispered, words he could barely choke out.
“A little.” You replied, big doe-like eyes staring up at him, holding so much love for the man. Love he was not sure he ever deserved.
Forcing his gaze away quickly he arose, soles of his feet vibrating and pulsing with each step. After approaching Boaz his shaking hands freed his bedroll clasps, attention locked upon his rifle poking out of the saddle.
His head spun, finally digging himself out of his trance. After returning to you, he draped the cloth over you coyly.
“You okay?” You suddenly asked, your hush voice startling him, he sighed in despair.
The words you said to him at Beaver Hollow replayed through his mind,
Leave with me. Let’s run away.
But he could not get them out, his chest quivered under the constraint of his uneven breaths.
“Course.” He managed to form the word, you nodded in contentment, fresh air filling your nose.
His response would have to do for now, you decided to cut him some slack since he returned to you, after all.
By now you knew him well enough. Some nights he would stay up and collect his thoughts before laying beside you. You always respected his space, he had his demons, like everyone else. Soon enough in your slumber
you would feel his protective arms drape around you, his steady breaths hitting the nape of your neck, tense body encapsulating yours— those were the nights you felt the safest, and knew he was going to manage just fine.
Other nights Javier would stay up while you were by your lonesome. He always feared something would kill the both of you while asleep, reluctantly you agreed. But the man always let you rest, you needed it more, that is for putting up with him all day round.
It was those nights he always coaxed you to sleep, you insisted he shouldn’t be awake alone, but eventually would give into the soft lulls he would sing, wordlessly agreeing that there was no point for the both of you to be cranky and tired in the morning.
—But there he sat, only to turn into the monster he swore to protect you from.
“I love you, Javier.”
Your words racked his brain, digging and clawing invasively into each one of his bones. Javier thought he imagined them until he looked over to find you staring this entire time. You knew there was something seriously wrong, but surely he would tell you within due time.
Javier’s voice was lost, swallowing suppressed sobs down his dry throat, he nearly felt like he was drowning once again in the frame he called a body.
Just like the days he would not say it back while pursuing a lead, with doubts he would not make it back to your arms— but he always did, it was the least he could do. It felt like lifetimes ago to him, how could the man choke out a te amo before sending you in?
Instead, he planted a kiss on your soft lips, lingering there for a moment, knowing it would be your last.
Looming below in the shadows, trailing to the border resided monsters he used to protect you from— two Mexican soldiers camped out by the tracks. Their lanterns flickering softly in the distance, patiently waiting for the man to arrive at the agreed meeting spot.
Javier shivered, feeling like a young boy again. His eyes fixated on the stock of his rifle that Boaz held.
Your breaths became shallow, harmonizing with the warm night’s breeze as you fell into a slumber. You trusted Javier’s judgment on setting up camp or heading home, you perhaps allowed yourself to get a little too comfortable.
It all happened so fast for him, and there was no going back. Javier’s mind blurred as he rode, Boaz fussing and fighting under his control. His very own horse feared the monster he had become, maybe poor Boaz thought he was Javier’s next victim.
He rode fast— but not fast enough to flee from himself.
A coyote lurked around the darkness, gazing at Javier from behind the two Mexican soldiers who taunted him, puffing on their big cigars from Uncle Sam.
The coyote disappeared as Javier reached for his revolver, patiently waiting for the man to shoot him— but he never did.
The soldier simply laughed, knowing Javier’s bark had no bite. While under Allende’s power, he was simply a coward a soldier would not even match out of pity.
Soon enough the two men fled into the night, banter that could be heard a mile away through the ravines. Anyone could have mistaken them for sick hyenas.
He could hear their stallions riding hard in triumph, with a new prize Javier held so close for many years, he watched the soldiers grow smaller and smaller over the uneven land until the darkness swallowed them whole, taking a piece of him along.
The nighttimes ahead would find Javier in a one horse town saloon, nodding off more times than he could remember. His glass turned from full to empty until his vision doubled.
Javier was not sure how many days had passed, the whiskey dulling his mind and senses, but the thoughts still ate him alive.
Did you think he would come for you? Or would you be envious, spilling everything you could before meeting the gallows.
Javier hid in his palms, knowing he got it all wrong— it should have been him.
It did not take too long for the man to get kicked out from the saloon due to his drunken stupor, not even the bartender wanted his dirty money.
Javier took Boaz to what he thought was east, the coyote returned to accompany him, lurking around on the monotone forest floors he traveled.
The night breeze made Javier reminisce of the times at camp, the very same breeze that whipped through your hair as you would drag him off somewhere secluded, your mischievous grin reflecting off the summer night's moon as you snuck off into the bushes.
You gave everything to each other— all for nothing it seems.Javier sank lower into himself before eventually staggering off Boaz. It only took him a few unsteady steps to empty his bowels on the dirt path, elbows hoisting him up on his shaky bent knees.
Peeking out from his jacket cuff was a scar he once wore proudly on his wrist. A scar he earned in some honky tonk town just because another man looked at you wrong. The mere thought of it worsened his nausea.
All signs pointed to you, and you were gone because of reasons he barely understood himself— He feared he didn’t know what loyalty was anymore. Or what he stood for in fact.
Your blind love killed you in the end, and it was his cross to bear.
The sky was dark and dull, which was just as familiar as a bottle and a glass. Not a single star in the sky greeted him, leaving him to fester alone.
The wind howled violently through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and sway. A northern was quickly sneaking upon the lands of New Austin.
His lone coyote joined him on a distant cliffside, coat black as sin, mocking the cowboy who lingered below.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
After being chased out of Beaver Hollow by the law, Javier found himself alone with Williamson. Somewhere in the sticks of northern Ambarino, where the risk of a grizzly finding them was higher than any lawman.
Laying low and listening to Bill squaller on about Dutch for a month was about all he could stomach, Javier reckoned he liked Bill a lot more when he didn’t talk.
As each day came to a close, one could guess where Javier’s mind wandered too. His bitter thoughts permeated on losing everything. Money, the gang, and you— Hell, the man didn’t know what to do with himself, considering you an extension of himself at this point.
Where were you? Did you make it out okay? Were you hurt?
These were a couple of the many questions that swam in the sea of Javier’s head.
“Are you still thinkin’ ‘bout that woman?”
Bill’s words of disgust were often displaced through his racing thoughts, but he wouldn’t be wrong. You were all Javier had upon entering these foreign lands, now he possessed nothing but the rocks in his boots.
The days would merge and turn into weeks, it didn’t take long for the plan of fleeing south to form in Bill’s lackluster head. Keen on the protection Javier could potentially bargain in Nuevo Paraiso.
Javier knew he was a dead man returning south, under no circumstances was that a can of worms he wanted to open with—Bill Williamson, out of all folk.
Besides, there was no man’s bidding Javier would consider doing to get the leverage Bill desired. But Bill’s ideas soon evolved into frustrated persuasion.
“How do’ya know that woman wasn’t the rat, anyhow?”
Bill would rant about you, the delusions Dutch fed him would resurface, but soon be swallowed back down with the same loyalty Javier once held so close.
“My chica wouldn’t, I’m telling you, cabrón. She’d save your neck just as much mine.”
Perhaps not completely true, Javier’s apathetic statements held no power over Bill, but at least it stopped his ear from being chewed off.
For all Bill was concerned, you were a coward just as much as the rest who left. Especially for plaguing Javier’s mind.
Bill would resort to not just questioning your loyalty to the gang, but your loyalty to Javier all together. The bold claims would make Javier think back to Clemons Point.
After a particularly nasty fight with Dutch, Molly sat on a nearby log as he sharpened his knife. He never knew what to say in situations like that, it was probably best he stayed out of it.
“The way she looks at you…”
The timid words escaped her. Realizing there was no one else around she could have been talking too, he met her stricken gaze which glistened off the moonlight.
“Huh?”
He wondered, caught off guard by the illusive topic. Molly wiped her rosy cheeks before she tenderly spoke.
“I wish I could look at Dutch the same.”
Javier just stared at the tear-stained woman in pity, unsure what to make of her unanticipated words.
That night's shift would give him plenty of time to think about it. Before eventually settling on giving you some extra attention. If it wasn’t obvious enough, he soon learnt that what you two shared was irreplaceable.
There was no doubt to Javier that you loved him, every lead he went on, you’d listen for the horses. Ready to greet him by his hitching post for a kiss, or with small talk that was exclusive to you both.
Javier would often get teased for the love you shared, perhaps some of it branched into jealousy. Not that he minded, the others knew you were off limits.
So it was safe to say that Bill’s claims was one thing Javier didn’t take lightly. With curses spat, and threats thrown, Bill had no other choice but to eat his words.
“Me ‘nd her go way further back than you and I.”
Javier’s irate words would soon remind Bill where he stood— below you.
That was Bill Williamson’s final straw for him to realize their parting was long overdue.
“If you wasn’t a fool, you’d be comin’ with.”
Was the last thing he spat to Javier one cloudy morning, bedroll and guns thrown on his unkempt steed.
You won't be seeing me again.
Javier thought in vain. Watching Bill’s departure in silence, just as he watched yours— except their time was up.
A cruel nightly cycle would leave Javier somewhere beneath the stars. The same night sky you’d lay him down gently in; he wondered if you were looking up at them too— or maybe you don’t think of him much anymore, just to get by.
Dozing off provided no sort of relief, the same thoughts that ate him alive during the day showed no mercy for a night's rest.
The dreams began after Guarma, and have stuck since. Most nights he would wake up confused, drenched in sweat, and frantically reaching for his gun belt only worn hours prior.
Your sweet voice would unknowingly soothe his hurt, all while he dismissed your attempts of rebuilding the bond you once shared. Javier regrets the distance, but he’s not sure if he would ever be ready to talk about Guarma.
Nonetheless, the terrible dreams always persisted, but managed to worsen after you left. They were so convoluted, Javier wasn’t sure which was a worse way to die; a watery grave, or succumbing to torture in a cage.
Other nights, Javier would dream about the day he returned to you at Beaver Hollow, god only knew how long they were gone for.
It was a rather gloomy day, at the end of the camp path was where he found you by your lonesome, as if you’ve been waiting for any sign of the missing men. Javier had seen better days, unshaven, wounded leg, and tattered garments that barely resembled the botched heist clothing he once wore. Javier approached you with a conflicted feeling of dread and relief, unsure of what to expect of you. But to the man’s horror, you crumbled before him.
You were just as much of a mess as he was. A terrible feeling arose from within his ribcage and drifted up, he momentarily thought he was going to black out from the knot building in his throat. An unmanageable feeling in his legs had already begun to brew throughout the day, vibrating and distorting his ears, blocking out your sobs he created. A near breaking point was threatening to consume him— he didn’t even know what day it was, how could he not know?
“You stupid bastard,”
Fallen at his feet, he cradled you soon after his initial shock dissipated.
“I know, I’m here now.”
Javier could barely recognize the hoarseness of his own voice, the words felt foreign to say after being gone for so long. Hopelessness overflowed from within him, and seeped into your frame that he held. All he could do was shield you from the cruel world he created for you both on that barren dirt path.
Your frantic pleas to leave would go unacknowledged, only to be substituted with soft hushes that were swept away in the trees. He couldn’t have just left, he had already sacrificed too much to quit now. Javier always swore Dutch would change your lives for the better.
—
In the recent nights of Macfarlane’s Ranch, life was still.
Javier’s dreams would evolve into a vessel of his old possession. Through bittersweet nostalgia, a buck would galavant by a stream, only to eventually stop and stand in triumph before fleeing into the distance. Those dreams offered Javier both temporary comfort and the humbling desolate nights he needed to return to you.
While staring off into the plains, Bill’s idea would occasionally infatuate him. The uncut ties of Mexico were beckoning, it was only a day's worth of digging in. Javier wasn’t sure he was built out for the vaquero life anymore, but those old chains around his feet would pull him back down.
Javier would eventually decide he wouldn’t watch the west die out, with false hopes of one last score followed by a life of freedom— he figured he already lost what made life rich.
At the ranch, Javier would chat up the yokels, describing you to the best of his abilities. Which usually stumped him— you... well, you were just you. He’s never been apart from you to have to worry about your description— Javier was always there.
Days passed without trace of you, it was probably best he left before the law caught wind of his excessive presence.
It was hopeless, yet he prayed on the North wind that it would lead him to you.
You could run the fool around in circles looking for your whereabouts. Hell, you could be in Timbuktu by now. Just like the day you left, the same hopelessness would creep upon Javier in those rare moments of disparity.
Those moments would eat him from the inside out, that discomforting pit forming in his stomach was always enough to empty it on the ground.
—
The aimless paths of New Austin was a place where the souls of saddle tramps go.
Into the horizon of the blazing sun was where you sat, under the only tree seen in miles. Your shire grazed in between you and the lonely road, like a black flag it stood in the orange dirt. Not even it could escape the mourning which life embraced.
You are not sure how much time passed you there, perched up under the tree, you’d watch the road. Studying the little silhouettes of cowpokes slowly growing as they approached periodically, all you thought of was Javier.
Hope overturned your grudge until they were near.
Some of these men would simply tip their hat as they passed, others would offer you a ride to town, and a few just stared at you; their forlorn eyes scratched at the walls of your soul. As if they were trying to tell you something.
Just as unfortunate as yourself, the nameless victims would soon be swallowed and spit back out by the blazing desert that awaited them.
It wasn’t until a clear morning for Javier to stumble upon that fork in the road, leading to the tree where you sat; seeking the same retreat you did days ago.
Sickeningly poetic; with no such weight on your shoulders, you seemed to have found the freedom Javier had been chasing all these years. Right front of him this entire time in the devoid lands of New Austin.Usually well groomed, the man showed a five o'clock shadow, earning a more rugged demeanor his months away from the luxuries of camp.
Lost puppy-dog eyes stared your way, being shielded by his bowler cap. The hair you used to run your fingers through was neatly tied back, and draping over his poncho.
“Javier,”
You greeted solemnly, your tranquil gaze greeting the man from where you sat. The thumping began in his ears as he staggered off Boaz, stiffly trying to shake the sudden feeling that your voice gave him.
“hola amor.”
He uttered awkwardly, approaching your newfound paradise underneath the old shady tree.
“I reckoned you’d be in Tahiti by now.”
You remarked bitterly, eyeing your lover from under the brim of your hat. He gripped the front of his gun belt, knuckles turning white and misshapen after all the years of abuse, the same hands that would be placed around your hips as he guided you through a busy town.
Javier let out a rueful huff as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. It flustered him to be antagonized in such a low moment of his life, especially by you.
But he simply did not possess the words and feelings begging to be shared with you— there were just too many.
Expecting you to continue, there was a deafening silence.
It was more than just the silence that plagued these western lands, but a sadness that often followed Javier everywhere he roamed, you could see it in his smile.
The lands gave Javier a place to duck under his doubts and troubles for a time, like a buck stuck beneath the bottom wire.
“It’s over,”
Javier’s voice came out as a whisper, thumb and finger caressing over the stubble on his chin.
A conclusion which needed no further words, you understood.
He never imagined it not meaning anything, but yet his brothers were reduced to the barrel he pointed.
Small shines of orange bathed through the wilting leaves which provided your gracious shade. As you contemplated his words, a soft breeze accompanied the both of you.
Finally arising to meet his frame, he towered over you slightly— lost along the way but finally found, you were no longer his partner in crime, nor a part of the Van der Linde gang— but just his chica he met all those years ago in Old Mexico, before the world was big.
Javier knew he couldn’t make up for your lost time together, but for now, being with you would do.
Without a word his arms wrapped around you and trailed down to the small of your back, the smell of rolled tobacco leeched off his poncho, a smell you’ve grown fond of over the years. As his cheek rested on the crown of your head, a different kind of silence was shared.
“Oh Javi,”
Your voice now both sorrowful and tender, it was impossible to hold a grudge against the warm honeypot eyes that yearned for you.
“lo sé,”
Javier murmured softly, giving into the relief that a calmer life brought.
Behind where you rested revealed a testament the tree possessed. A bald spot in the maple-colored wood had bark torn away, faded letters with sap-filled groves were carved by previous visitors of the solitude tree:
‘blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy’
Javier united your lips with a long awaited kiss, your cheeks softly being caressed by his thumbs. To him, it was like falling for you all over again. But this time, he wanted to do everything right.
“Figured the law got you.”
You mumbled one of your many worries after the man pulled away. Javier scrunched up his nose, cringing at your doubts.
“Course not, nunca.”
Eventually bidding your farewell to the tree, you joined Javier at Boaz’s saddlebags for what seemed to be a celebratory smoke.
“They were hangin’ around that ranch, it’s not safe.”
You proclaimed, even the west had reminded you that a quiet cabin life was unrealistic. He hummed against the tobacco in between his lips, considering your words.
“Where does that leave us?”
Javier asked through an exhale. His sharp eyes squinted under the sun, staring at you in devotion.
For the first time in a year, you made that choice together.
With possessions on your shire and the both of you on Boaz, was where Javier liked you best. Feeling your heartbeat on his back always reminded him of Mexico, yet you were his home.While riding, your hands would instinctively grasp Javier’s gun belt. Marking both the leather and his heart throughout the years you spent together.
Later that day Javier’s buck would graze upon the open fields you crossed, only to scamper off once your horses made way. Its coat bright and shining off the sinking sun, he swore it’s the biggest one he’s ever seen.
Expecting a comment, Javier thought maybe you dozed off, or perhaps he accidentally sipped his flask instead of his canteen.
Aways up north yielded reassurance and prosperity, the man decided that tonight he would sleep instead of keeping watch, an unusual gesture he knew you both needed.
Far away from the lands you once both resided, a comfortable wilderness separated you and any dangers— Maybe tomorrow night he would keep watch, but tonight, he just needed you.
Javier’s shaking hands prepped a small flame, and smoothed out the creases of your bedroll that night. The same hands that would work a revolver effortlessly, and confidently beat in the faces of men in a moment's notice.
but for you? they trembled.
Fingers that had been busted more times than you could count were now fumbling through every button of your shirt, leaving a trail of his lips where his hands once touched.
Nonetheless satisfied with these tasks, the crinkles beside his eyes would reflect off the flame as he flashed you a content smile.
The fire crackled within your cozy makeshift camp, its orange flame lighting up Javier’s torso just enough to highlight the tones and scars on his chest.
Javier was used to catching you staring, never failing to tease you about it. A mere husky chuckle and verbal warning would remind you of his diminutive willpower when it came to you.
Joining you beneath the blankets, his body radiated with the warmth you craved. With a protective arm easing you towards him, your skin colliding with his was enough to wash all his hardships away.
Your lips ghosted down his neck, causing a loose sigh to escape his lips. Javier cooed words of endearment, unsure if he deserved your regained affection.
You felt him tense around you as your lips traveled down to his adam’s apple and the large horizontal scar that covered it.
“lo siento,”
He muttered softly, finally getting the long awaited words out— It was for a lot of things, that scar was just one of them.
His breath hitched and ran down your bare skin, your torso being consumed by his restless large hands. Only you reminded Javier of his scars, usually in a way of gratification, having earned them throughout your time together.
But that healed slit along his throat brought the man waves of embarrassment, Javier was thankful for your love nonetheless, and you for his loyalty.
With belated love and words begging to be said, Javier knew his lips had a lot of catching up to do. But tonight you both needed rest.
As if it was tradition, he ensured you found your peace first, maybe it solaced the man knowing you were safe within his arms.
Gusts of winds whistled through the trees, causing them to sing a song made just for the two of you. His coarse hands ran down your sides before settling at your waist, once again basking in what he could have lost.
Up yonder was where the starry night sky shined just for him to see you. The constellations washed away his most honorable sins, and extended the borrowed time you both had been lent years ago.
The blanket you shared was pulled over your shoulder, ensuring your undisturbed rest. Javier’s gentle lips ghosted over your cheek for just one more kiss goodnight.
You were long asleep, closely tucked within the arms of the man you called home. Yearning to chase the relief your shared nights provided, Javier’s eyes grew heavy. Through a gentle state of somnolent, his prideful buck accompanied him in the meadow it frolicked.
Whispered words slipped into the night and greeted his slumber.
“te amo.”