Yuletide FIC: Tourniquet (Thunderheart, Ray/Walter, R)
TITLE: Tourniquet
RATING: R
FANDOM: Thunderheart
PAIRING: Walter Crow Horse/Ray Levoi
SUMMARY: What happens after Ray leaves the rez.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for kendermouse as a treat for the 2014 yuletide. Set post-film.
Ray pressed a white, linen shirt, and then put it on while it was still warm. He brushed his best black jacket, then put that on, the gentle weight of the wool falling familiarly across his shoulders. He began tying his tie--red and blue stripes--but then remembered the last tie he'd worn, the tourniquet for Maggie's son, and he threw the tie back in his suitcase. He unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, instead, and breathed a little easier.
Ray studied his reflection in the mirror of his hotel room, and wondered, "Would my father be proud?" Then he got confused about which father he meant, and for a moment his eyes pinched closed.
Ray opened his eyes, and he left his reflection. He slipped his wallet and the hotel keys into his pocket, and he left the room.
***
Crow Horse stepped back into the station after a morning of pulling over speeders, his boots echoing quietly on the linoleum. The Bear Creek Police Department was unusually quiet, even for a Monday morning: no drunk and disorderlies moaning in the jail, no one squawking on the radio at dispatch. Dispatch, in fact, was empty, and Crow Horse frowned, wondering where Marie had gone off to.
He found her in the break room, along with the rest of the department. They were crowded around the flickering, black-and-white, bunny-eared television.
"Hey, boss," Larry said. "Lookit."
Crow Horse squinted through the static.
"The Indian FB-Eyes," Cody added, just as the picture resonated with Crow Horse.
Special Agent Ray Levoi was on the Channel 4 news, talking with that hot-to-trot Mindy Liu. The ticker at the bottom read, Reservation Blues: Murder on Indian Land.
Crow Horse laughed. "Well, I'll be good God damned."
***
Ray returned to his hotel room to find the door unlocked. He reached for his sidearm, then remembered that he'd taken off his guns for the interview.
"Shit," he said as the door swung open. Then, after a brief moment of shock: "You're out of your jurisdiction."
Crow Horse, lounging on the bed with his feet up, boots crossed at the ankles, looked at Ray briefly, then put his eyes back to the basketball game he was watching.
"You ain't even got jurisdiction anymore, kola," Crow Horse said, but he was smiling.
Ray sighed. He took off his jacket, and put it back on its hanger in the tiny hotel closet. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Saw you on the news this morning," Crow Horse said.
Ray sat on the edge of the bed. "Yeah? You saw me? Is that all you have to say?"
Crow Horse turned off the television. He chuckled. "Don't get your panties in a twist, there, Raymond. Just saw you were here, thought maybe I'd come give you some moral support."
"By breaking into my hotel room?"
"Now you're caught up." Crow Horse rose, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. "Hungry?"
Ray blinked at the non sequitur, then realized he was, in fact, very hungry. "Yeah. I skipped breakfast this morning."
"Sure you did, four a.m. makeup call and all."
Ray rolled his eyes. He came to his feet, followed Crow Horse out the door. "I am not wearing makeup."
"Sure, kola. Sure."
***
Crow Horse knew a good place, and Ray allowed himself to be Shanghaied. They sat in a sticky, red vinyl booth in the back.
Crow Horse ordered a beer and a burger. Ray gave him a look.
"You know it's ten in the morning, right?"
"I thought you were hungry, Raymond."
"I don't eat red meat," Ray said. He ordered an egg whites omelet and some wheat toast. Crow Horse made a show of rolling his eyes.
"So, remind me why you're stalking me?" Ray said once the waitress was out of earshot.
"Don't be so dramatic."
"You didn't answer my question."
"I just wanted to see how you were, Ray. You sure didn't get far after leaving me at the cemetery."
"I told you I was going to follow up with Maggie's media contacts. That's what I'm doing. Started with Rapid City; next I'm going to Minneapolis."
"Yeah, I'm real glad, Ray. Put your hackles down; I'm on your side."
Ray relaxed. His mouth crimped down in apology. "Sorry."
"That's all right, Ray; I know you're not used to having people on your side."
***
Ray stood outside the restaurant, waiting for Crow Horse to settle the tab and stop jawing with the hostess. He took the rock out of his pocket--no telling why he was carrying the damn thing around; he just liked the weight of it--and tossed it in the air, caught it. A dirty yellow pickup truck coughed its way into the parking lot; Ray watched with vague interest as it parked and unloaded six or seven men in dusty dungarees and cowboy hats.
After a moment, Ray became aware that the men were making their way over to him. He put the rock back in his pocket.
"Can I help you?" Ray asked.
The man in front, a heavyset guy with a mustache, grinned. "Whoo-ee, I sure hoped I'd get to see you again."
Ray froze. It took him a moment, but he recognized the men: Milton's GOONs.
"Yeah?" he said. "Can't say it's mutual."
The lead GOON took a few steps toward Ray. "You know, Milton's under indictment 'cuz of you. The GOONs are disbanded--"
"Good," Ray said.
"Good for you, maybe," one of the other GOONs said. "On TV with some fine-assed reporter from a Wasi'chu city. Not good for us. And not good for the rez, neither."
"I disagree," Ray said. "I don't think armed vigilantes are good for anyone."
The group of GOONs tightened around Ray. His hand dusted over his hip, feeling for the familiar smooth leather of his holster, but then he remembered that he'd taken his guns off.
"Think you should get off the rez, chief," the lead GOON said. Then he stepped forward, took a swing at Ray. Ray ducked, but then there were two GOONs coming from behind him, and when he turned to meet them, the lead GOON pushed him hard in the back, and he fell to the ground, busting his head against the pavement. For a moment, he saw black; when he regained his vision, the world swam. Ray tried to come to his feet, but a sharp kick in the ribs knocked him back to his knees.
Ray could feel the sear of blood coursing down his face. His body was alive with pain. He started to get up again, but the gang of GOONs was tightening around him, blocking off the sky above, so that all he could see was their snarling faces.
A shot echoed through the parking lot. The GOONs startled, milling uneasily.
"Y'all need to git, and right now, before I book every last one of you," Crow Horse said. The GOONs parted a little, and Ray could see him, gun in hand, a gleam of sunshine making his Raybans into an unreadable mask.
"We ain't scared of you, sheriff," one of the GOONs said.
Crow Horse aimed his gun at the center of the GOON's chest. "You ain't legal no more, son. Best get on home. That is, unless you'd like to see what the inside of the Bear Creek jail looks like."
There was some grumbling, but the GOONs began to disperse. Ray, head swimming, fell to his hands and knees on the asphalt.
"Whoa, there, hoss," Crow Horse said, holstering his gun and coming to Ray's side. "Easy, now. Easy."
"Help me up?" Ray said, but Crow Horse's hands were already around his middle, pulling him to his feet.
Ray saw black again as all the blood rushed from his head. He heard Crow Horse whistle, low.
"Best get you to the clinic," he said.
"I'm fine," Ray said, and swooned. Luckily, Crow Horse was there to catch him.
***
"Your ribs are bruised, not broken," the doctor said. "But you have a concussion. I'll write you something for the pain, but you shouldn't sleep tonight, just to be safe."
Ray readjusted the ice pack cooling his temple. "Thanks, doc."
Crow Horse helped Ray to the car.
"Come on, kola," Crow Horse said. "I'll take you home."
***
Crow Horse got Ray set up on his couch with a blanket and a bad movie on TV.
"You want somethin' to eat?" he asked.
Ray shook his head. He put the ice pack on the coffee table; it was beginning to make his head numb.
Crow Horse came and sat with him, banishing Jimmy to the floor.
"Doing okay, there, Raymond?" he asked softly.
Ray nodded. The pills the doctor had gave him deadened the pain, and he felt sleepy and slow, but in a comfortable way.
"Good," Crow Horse said. "That's real good."
Crow Horse looked at him a moment, thin mouth twisting.
"Let's get you out of that shirt," he said finally.
Ray blinked. "What?"
"You're covered in blood, Ray."
"Oh. Right." The doctor had taken off his blood-crusted Oxford to check his broken ribs; that left his undershirt. Ray started pulling the shirt off by himself, then realized he wasn't sure how that would go. He poked his tongue into his cheek, felt himself color a little. "I need your help."
"Yeah, Ray," Crow Horse said softly, "sure."
Crow Horse's hands were gentle on Ray's body, and he stripped his shirt off without bothering his head.
"Thanks," Ray said.
"No problem," Crow Horse said. He fidgeted with Ray's shirt in his lap, balling the fabric in his fist. He looked up at Ray. "How you feelin'?"
Ray relaxed against the couch cushions. "Not bad. A little--a little fuzzy. These meds..."
Crow Horse chuckled. "Yeah, they gave you the good stuff." He studied the planes of Ray's face, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the slight flush on the apples of his cheeks. "I'm gonna have to keep you up all night," Crow Horse drawled. "Now how am I gonna do that?"
Ray's blush darkened. Crow Horse met Ray's pale eyes. With the slow movements of approaching a spooked horse, Crow Horse leaned over Ray, pressed his lips to Ray's.
Ray stiffened, at first, gasped quietly. But then he closed his eyes, and he kissed Crow Horse back, his hands tangling in Crow Horse's hair.
They broke slowly, looking into each other's eyes. Crow Horse traced the contour of Ray's flushed cheeks with his knuckles, whispered, "Čhaŋté skúya."
Ray's brow pinched. "What's that mean?"
Crow Horse just laughed.
Ray didn't press it. He tugged gently at a strand of Crow Horse's hair. "Can we kiss again?"
Crow Horse grinned. "Absolutely."
Crow Horse pushed Ray back into the couch cushions, giving Ray his weight to take, bringing their mouths together. He kissed that plush mouth deep, his hands traveling over Ray's bare chest, down to his jeans. Crow Horse settled his palm over Ray's fly, his hand still until Ray pressed up against him, moaning quietly. Crow Horse began massaging Ray, breaking off the kiss so he could watch Ray's face while he came.
"Jesus," Ray said, panting.
Crow Horse chuckled. "Call me Walter."
Ray rolled his eyes, but that smarted; he flinched. The smile slid right off Crow Horse's face, and he gently traced his fingers over the bandage at Ray's temple.
"Sorry."
Ray cocked his head to one side. "For what?"
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You're not," Ray reassured him. He sat up, regarded Crow Horse seriously. "Look, kola. It's early; you've got a lot of keeping me up to do. How are you going to do that?"
Crow Horse grinned. "Don't worry, honey; I got some ideas."