A Stitch In Time - 3 | BtVS/Magnificent Seven | FRT
Title: A Stitch In Time - 3
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / The Magnificent Seven
Characters: Chris Larabee, Buffy Summers
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word count: 645
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Magnificent Seven belong to their various creators, production companies, etc and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Note: Sorry these have all been so short this year. Time has been at a premium and has prevented the fleshing out of the stories.
Summary: Hi was angry, in pain and very, very drunk. He couldn't quite remember what he'd been doing the past week, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.
A Stitch In Time - 3
By Beriaearwen
Chris squinted through the smoke of his cigar, trying to focus his eyes on those around him, idly wondering why there were two of everyone.
One of his hands reached down and caressed the butt of his gun. He tried to figure out how many men he'd killed in the past week, but couldn't quite figure that out. He knew it was too many.
Reaching out, he poured himself another shot of whiskey.
It had been the boy and his mother.
Not so much the father.
But the boy...
Tossing back the drink, he hoped to blot out the image of the empty, open eyes of the boy about Adam's age.
Had his son looked like that? Had he died before the fire burned him almost beyond recognition?
Throwing his glass across the nearly empty room, it shattered against the far wall. Grabbing the bottle, he staggered out of the saloon, ignoring the palpable relief of the other patrons.
Not paying attention to where he was going, he found a bench and collapsed on it, taking a deep drink.
“Eight,” a serious, female voice said next to him.
He wobbled slightly in his seat as he turned to look. “You.”
She ignored him, only wrinkling her nose slightly at the smell of his breath. “You killed eight men this week. Two of them didn't even challenge you, but you were too drunk to care. Seven children are now fatherless.”
Chris felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach by a horse. “They challenged...”
“No! No, Chris. Two of them didn't challenge you. One of them had just dismounted his horse and was crossing to go to the mercantile. You stopped him, called to him. He wasn't even armed.”
“You lie!” He couldn't have done that, could he? Could he have left a family without their father? He met her gaze as steadily as he could, looking for the lie he knew had to be in her eyes.
She met his gaze firmly and without flinching.
She wasn't lying.
He felt his stomach turn sickeningly and struggled to keep down the alcohol.
It was a losing battle.
“Charming,” was her sarcastic comment even as her hands gently guided him to a standing position.
“Who you're becoming, what you're becoming isn't who or what you were meant to be. It's not someone Sarah or Adam would ever want to acknowledge.”
“What do you know?” he spat out, leaning heavily on her for support, but feeling irrationally angry that she dared to mention his wife and son. “What do you know?” he asked again, the anger having burned out, leaving him numb for the moment.
“Too much and not enough,” she responded, directing his footsteps toward the hotel.
He remained silent during the remainder of the walk, his mind processing her words.
Leaning against the wall where she'd propped him, the truth that he needed to change settled into his bones. He wasn't and couldn't be a drunk.
Even more than that, he wouldn't be a murderer. He wouldn't destroy other people's families as his had been destroyed.
When she came back, he let her lead him to a room, where he knew he would sleep this off and wake to a bath in the morning.
Once she reached the room and had him sitting on the bed, she turned to leave.
As she reached the door, he finally asked. “Why are you doing this?”
She turned her head slightly and looked at him over her shoulder. “You remind me of someone,” she replied quietly.
“Who?”
A pained look crossed her face before she turned and stepped out the door, closing it firmly behind her.
Unable to muster the strength to follow, Chris managed to take off his boots before laying back on the bed and falling asleep almost instantly.
End
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / The Magnificent Seven
Characters: Chris Larabee, Buffy Summers
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word count: 645
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Magnificent Seven belong to their various creators, production companies, etc and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Note: Sorry these have all been so short this year. Time has been at a premium and has prevented the fleshing out of the stories.
Summary: Hi was angry, in pain and very, very drunk. He couldn't quite remember what he'd been doing the past week, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.
A Stitch In Time - 3
By Beriaearwen
Chris squinted through the smoke of his cigar, trying to focus his eyes on those around him, idly wondering why there were two of everyone.
One of his hands reached down and caressed the butt of his gun. He tried to figure out how many men he'd killed in the past week, but couldn't quite figure that out. He knew it was too many.
Reaching out, he poured himself another shot of whiskey.
It had been the boy and his mother.
Not so much the father.
But the boy...
Tossing back the drink, he hoped to blot out the image of the empty, open eyes of the boy about Adam's age.
Had his son looked like that? Had he died before the fire burned him almost beyond recognition?
Throwing his glass across the nearly empty room, it shattered against the far wall. Grabbing the bottle, he staggered out of the saloon, ignoring the palpable relief of the other patrons.
Not paying attention to where he was going, he found a bench and collapsed on it, taking a deep drink.
“Eight,” a serious, female voice said next to him.
He wobbled slightly in his seat as he turned to look. “You.”
She ignored him, only wrinkling her nose slightly at the smell of his breath. “You killed eight men this week. Two of them didn't even challenge you, but you were too drunk to care. Seven children are now fatherless.”
Chris felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach by a horse. “They challenged...”
“No! No, Chris. Two of them didn't challenge you. One of them had just dismounted his horse and was crossing to go to the mercantile. You stopped him, called to him. He wasn't even armed.”
“You lie!” He couldn't have done that, could he? Could he have left a family without their father? He met her gaze as steadily as he could, looking for the lie he knew had to be in her eyes.
She met his gaze firmly and without flinching.
She wasn't lying.
He felt his stomach turn sickeningly and struggled to keep down the alcohol.
It was a losing battle.
“Charming,” was her sarcastic comment even as her hands gently guided him to a standing position.
“Who you're becoming, what you're becoming isn't who or what you were meant to be. It's not someone Sarah or Adam would ever want to acknowledge.”
“What do you know?” he spat out, leaning heavily on her for support, but feeling irrationally angry that she dared to mention his wife and son. “What do you know?” he asked again, the anger having burned out, leaving him numb for the moment.
“Too much and not enough,” she responded, directing his footsteps toward the hotel.
He remained silent during the remainder of the walk, his mind processing her words.
Leaning against the wall where she'd propped him, the truth that he needed to change settled into his bones. He wasn't and couldn't be a drunk.
Even more than that, he wouldn't be a murderer. He wouldn't destroy other people's families as his had been destroyed.
When she came back, he let her lead him to a room, where he knew he would sleep this off and wake to a bath in the morning.
Once she reached the room and had him sitting on the bed, she turned to leave.
As she reached the door, he finally asked. “Why are you doing this?”
She turned her head slightly and looked at him over her shoulder. “You remind me of someone,” she replied quietly.
“Who?”
A pained look crossed her face before she turned and stepped out the door, closing it firmly behind her.
Unable to muster the strength to follow, Chris managed to take off his boots before laying back on the bed and falling asleep almost instantly.
End