"Your name. Es como...a baby horse, no?"
Colt raised an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He stared at the smirking gang leader sitting across from him, clearing his throat before responding.
"Yes."
"Ah. It suits you. You seem very young."
"I'm 22 years of age, sir."
Ezekiel twirled the glass cup in front of him, watching the exchange between the two men grow even more tense. He didn't want to budge in due to being morbidly curious as to what chaos would unfold, but as time passed by he felt it was necessary to intervene.
"Well, Mr. Hidalgo. Would you look at that. The man is older than you."
Colt didn't know how Ezekiel had known the other's age, but he figured it was because they had talked before. After all, with the way Jesús suddenly sat with him and his companion he figured some type of relationship had formed between them. The thought made him a little jealous, he admitted, but there was no hint of romantic interest amongst the two.
"19 years young, Mr. Townsend. Not that far from each other, then." Jesús lifted a glass cup full of beer, throwing his head back as he downed the whole thing in the blink of an eye. Colt stared at his own untouched beverage, hesitantly reaching out for it as he cleared his dry throat.
He hated how everyone always liked to poke fun at his youthful looks. It didn't help that he was so sheltered from the world. Jesús might've been younger than him, but he was rough, sturdy and looked older. The same could be said about Ezekiel. The men were around his age, but even so he looked so much younger than them. Was it due to his clean shaven face and short height? Or perhaps his naive way of looking at the world?
Without a second thought, young Colt brought the cup to his lips and swallowed every last drop with only one small cough. Jesús let out a little "Órale" before signaling for the bartender.
"Hey, amigo! A few bottles of the whiskey por favor."
Colt rubbed the side of his face with dread and glanced at Ezekiel, who was seemingly staring down Jesús with annoyance. Even so, he didn't seem to want to do anything about it. At least not yet.
"You know, brother. I've heard good things about your town." Jesús stayed silent for a moment as a saloon girl suddenly strolled over to him, carrying two bottles in her hands as she shot him a little wink. The man pulled out a bill of a large amount, tucking it in her hand as he blew her a kiss.
"Gracias, bonita." He refocused his attention to the two unamused men, refilling their cups to the very brim.
"Graveflat. Such a nice town. Your father must be very proud."
"He is," Colt responded, wondering if the other was trying to trying to get in good with him due to his status.
Jesús let out a muffled, almost mocking chuckle as he brought the cup close to his lips and chugged it down. His two companions reluctantly did the same, unsure of where he was going with what he was saying.
"My great grandfather also found a town. A long time ago. He died before he could see the fruit of his hard labor." Jesús's expression darkened as a glimpse of sorrow reflected in his eyes. It was there for less than a second before vanishing, and was instead replaced with a serious and somewhat angry gaze.
"I'm sorry for your loss. My mother passed away, so I recognize how hard it is." Colt responded, secretly wondering how the other had perished. As if reading his mind, Jesús refilled his glass cup as well as his own, intentionally ignoring Ezekiel. The creature didn't care, after all it wasn't as if he could feel the effects of the alcohol humans made. Regardless, he was concerned about the young man beside him. It seemed as if his eyelids were beginning to droop. He really couldn't handle one drink.
"What happened to your mother?"
Colt noticed a faint switch in Jesús tone. It was slightly sympathetic, yet still carried that rough almost condescending ring to it. Should he really open to to this complete stranger?
"She got sick," He finally responded, not bothering to go into the details.
"And now you're sick." The outlaw mused in an all knowing manner.
Ezekiel's eyes dashed from Colt to the other, tapping his gloved finger on the wooden table. He felt that things should come to an end, after all he had no clue as to why Jesús was so eager to talk to Colt. There was nothing to gain from their conversation that he already didn't know, so why was the gunslinger so interested in the young man?
"Your father must be wonderin' where you wandered of to." Ezekiel broke the silence, ready to stand up as he grabbed a hold of his companion's thin arm. Colt, however, did not budge. He was seemingly glaring at Jesús, almost as if challenging him for what he had said.
"Yes, run off to your father. The niño can't be walking around with a cough."
Colt viciously slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone around him to stop what they were doing. All their eyes rested on the child of Horley, his hair unkempt and his stance wavering due to the alcohol.
"Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch. Sick and drunk I can shoot you dead right here right now."
"Go on," Jesús threatened with crazy eyes as he pulled out his own revolver, sliding it towards the man before him. Colt stared at the weapon for less than a second before grabbing it and pointing it directly at his foe's forehead. At that point Ezekiel had enough and quickly disarmed the young man. He pulled him out of the saloon before he could commit murder, leaving behind a sea of whispers and gasps from the residents inside. Horley was going to lose his mind once he received word of what his son had done, but at least nothing else occurred.
"You're insane," Ezekiel growled, feeling his animalistic instincts start to kick in as he practically dragged his drunken companion across the dirt floor. Colt wiggled around and finally managed to break free, losing his coat in the creature's tight grip. At this point, the other noticed tears streaming down those sad, droopy eyes. He knew what was coming next.
"Seems like such a coincidence these bastards stroll into Graveflat when I find out someone's after my father. You didn't think I would find out."
"...I didn't tell you-."
"Because you're a liar!" Colt swung at Ezekiel, completely missing before collapsing into the other's arms in pure frustration. He accidentally coughed on the man's clothing, spewing blood on his clothes before falling limp.
Ezekiel held Colt tight, sitting on the floor as he cradled the human's face in his large hands. The poor man was sobbing at this point, not caring if his lips were stained with blood. There was such sadness and pain in those eyes, as if he was reminiscing on an awful memory.
"My mother...my father...you can't let him take him away!"
"No one is takin' anyone away..." Ezekiel comforted the shivering man, looking around to make sure no one was around before gently pushing him against the saloon walls to steady him.
"I need you to hear this young man out, Colt. There is somethin' you don't know about your father."
"Lies. He's probably trying to take over this town!"
Ezekiel shushed Colt, focusing on those large eyes that entranced him since he first saw them. With a little pat on that flushed and sweating cheek, he whispered, "Listen to what he has to say. He is not your enemy."
There was a short silence between the two as the men stared at each other for what seemed like ages. Colt ended up cutting into the silence with a muffled sob as reality set in.
"My f-father. What did he do?"
"Hidalgo will tell you. You should go back home. Tomorrow is sure to be a rough day."
Colt felt his insides start to turn, thinking of every awful thing Horley could have done that would send a whole band of outlaws after him. Was there a dark past to his own father...?
Ezekiel could tell the man was troubled, but he had no comfort to give. With a gentle stroke of the other's cheek, he managed to at least draw the man's attention on to him. Their eyes were glued to one another yet again, and suddenly the world grew quiet.
Ezekiel wanted to rip off his skin, to feel his real self touching the human he had come to adore...but he couldn't. At least- not yet.
"I am sorry."
"For what?" Colt questioned, noticing the hint of guilt in his companion's gaze. There were so close that he could feel the other's cold breathe on his own face. And his scent- it was like burning herbs that wasn't all too bad. Just extremely powerful.
Ezekiel at once struggled to speak. He had always been so sure of himself, yet for the first time in so many years he was completely dumfounded by a human. As Colt's attention floated elsewhere and ended up on someone making their way towards them, the creature finally found the words.
"Your mother. Your sickness. It's because I-."
"Well, well. If it ain't my dear old monster."
Ezekiel would have felt his stomach drop if he had one. He turned his head slowly, staring at a rather tall and lewdly dressed woman in red. Her long, dark hair was curled, framed around a face full of heavy makeup. Her brightly colored lips curled up into a seductive grin as she fanned herself, shooing away the carriage that had brought her to Graveflat.
The creature quickly turned to Colt, who was now extremely serious and avoiding his gaze.
"Emma." Ezekiel managed to speak through gritted teeth, "What in the livin' hell are you doin' here?"