first entrance

[almosthonorable]

[ oom: they're gonna hang me in the mornin'
before the night is done
they're gonna hang me in the mornin'
i'll never see the sun ]

The man in the doorway eyes the room as he brushes the dirt from his black duster.

This isn't the not-so-respectable establishment he expected, but it's a bar.

Which means there's whiskey. And he's thirsty.

[

Comments

[lasthalfmile]

Dan is working his way through a glass of that fine whiskey while sitting at the bar. He can see the door when it opens, because when you're dead and stuck in a bar, what better to do than watch who comes in and out.

However.

long black coat black hat dark eyes

That was not who he was expecting anytime soon.

[almosthonorable]

Wade takes in the room as he moves toward the bar, counting, surveying, assessing.

His eyes slide to the man on a nearby barstool.

And he blinks.

This was not who he was expecting anytime.

"Didn't know I died somewhere between the hitchin' post and the door."

[lasthalfmile]

"You most likely didn't."

Sip of whiskey (more than a sip, more like a swallow, who can blame him when it comes to the infamous Ben Wade) and then he sets the glass down.

"Not everyone who shows up ain't breathing."

[almosthonorable]

A raised eyebrow, carefully neutral expression.

He'll be damned - Dan Evans, breathing and drinking and talking.

"And how's that, exactly?"

[lasthalfmile]

"Don't ask me." A beat. "I wasn't bleedin' either."

But he was certainly dead. Dan raises a hand to his chest as if remembering lead buried deep in his lungs and then moves to to have another sip of whiskey.

"First drink's free."

[almosthonorable]

Wade's gaze flicks to Dan's torso.

He's seeing Charlie, hearing those four shots, watching Dan fall by the train.

His eyes snap back up.

"Some kinda purgatory?"

At least he'll get a free round.

[lasthalfmile]

"Apparently so."

A nod at the bartop.

"Just go ahead and ask the counter, don't need a tender."

One good thing about this entire situation is the fact that Dan will get to see the reaction on Wade's face.

[almosthonorable]

His eyes narrow, and he looks from Dan, to the bartop, and back to Dan.

"Whiskey, please?" he asks slowly, skeptically.

And the glass appears.

"Well, I'll be damned."

A beat and a disbelieving chuckle.

"If I'm not already."

[lasthalfmile]

"Plenty of Gods around here too, sure you could find out."

Dan chuckles a little himself as he takes another drink.

"When is it, for you?"

[almosthonorable]

The glass freezes halfway to Wade's lips.

'Gods'? The hell?

He'll ask in a minute.

He throws back his drink - damn fine whiskey - and places the empty shot glass on the bar.

"I'm fresh off the train, Dan."

[lasthalfmile]

"Ah."

that last half mile, you'd be crazy to do it
someone has to finish the job
it's just a half mile
run like hell
ignore the pain
get him to the train

if only it hadn't been late

Dan nods once, then again. Another sip of whiskey and then he explains.

"Sometimes the times get a bit mixed up, so I've been told."

[almosthonorable]

A short, curt nod.

"Well, now."

A beat.

"That explains absolutely nothin'."

[lasthalfmile]

"You didn't expect me t'have all the answers on the other side, did you?"

Dan certainly doesn't think Wade thought that highly of him. Just a poor ex-soldier tryin' his best to keep his farm together and his family warm and fed.

A man who was willing to do the right thing.

(Then again, Wade was willing to get on the train.)

A long pause, then:

"Thank you."

[almosthonorable]

"Expected more than this, I'll tell you that much," he answers, though he's almost smiling.

A sideways glance at Dan, who's gone quiet, and he opens his mouth, but Dan beats him to it and speaks first.

And a line appears between his brows.

"For what, gettin' you killed?"

[lasthalfmile]

The sky was blue. Clear. Crisp. White clouds mixing with the steam from the train engine. His son. A hiss in his ears, then nothing.

His stomach twists a little.

"For keepin' your word."

[almosthonorable]

Wade's jaw tightens.

The sky was blue. Clear. Crisp. White clouds mixing with the steam from the train engine. And then the shooting started.

But Wade made sure he was the last man standing. Standing next to William.

He stares at his empty shot glass for a long minute.

"Think I owe you a drink."