(Unedited)
Word count: 3976
{Listen while you read?~I recommend I Never Cared For You by Willie Nelson}
☽✫.✽✦✽.»»——⍟——««.✽✦✽.✫☾
It wasn't long before the two found themselves back into the office of the professor, the main area was empty and more bare than usual. Sharing a confused look they made their way upstairs to the living area of the house and knocked on a door that had a lot of movement coming from inside.
"Professor." Johns gritty voice called loud enough through the door.
"Open up." Dixie added
The door open slowly and just enough for one dilated eye to peek out and a breath of relief followed.
"Oh, it's you, dears. Come in. Come in. And shut the door." The professor said opening the door for them, and they listened closing it after them.
"What's going on? You leaving?" John asked with a hint of relief.
"Yes, sir. Yes I am, sir. You know, you know the thing, the thing that is vital without which scholarship cannot proceed, sir?" McDougal asked as he hastily packed a bag.
"No, I don't." John answered his head tracking the man that paced back and forward with various of items stuffing them in his bags.
"Not having a bullet in your flipping neck, sir. I'm not cut out for this. No, not cut out for this at all." He told them both scared and inflamed.
Both Dixie and John laughed while the man agreed with him, "Nope."
"They're fucking savages! Savages!" The professed exclaimed.
"I think we all are." Dixie told the man as she picked up a few cents off the table she stood near and slipped them into her pocket, next she picked up a small glass ball that was a paperweight and held it up to the light inspecting the small gem enclosed inside.
"Not me, madam. I'm from Connecticut. I'm a professor at Yale! I write books! I do not deserve to die out here!" The professor yelled before he started scratching his arm and looking around frantically, "Where's my tincture? Oh yes."
He quick walked over to the full syringe on a table next to a chair that he sat in while before injecting his tincture into his blown out vain and badly bruised arm, John turn to look at his partner just as she took her hand out of her satchel the glass paperweight now missing.
"You okay, Professor?" She asked stepping closer to the crazyed man standing near the window
"Dandy, madam. Just dandy." He answered when suddenly both Dixie and the windows glass fell in sync, the professor screamed in shock as he tossed the now empty syringe into the air in surprise as Dixie's hat was shuffled to the side by johns approaching boots.
"Oh heavens above!" He yelled curling into himself in the chair as John drew his revolver and got low moving towards the unconscious woman.
"Dixie." He said rolling her over and inspected the open wound darkening her already midnight hair, the white strand he's come accustomed to seeing being tied into a braid was free and now staining red.
"Is that you, John?" A voice from down below yelled up the scarred man rolled his eyes as he grab a discarded towel from nearby making sure it was clean and held it to the woman's head the other holding his trusted revolver.
"Hello, Dutch." He called down looking out the window.
"I think that's what they call, two for the price of one out here in this wonderful place!" Dutch called up with a sinister laugh as he waved a gun around.
"Maybe so, Dutch." John said back as his eyes drifted back to the woman below as she started to moved muttering in pain.
"You and your friend there the professor... We're gonna kill the both of ya, oh yah and make sure that little lady is dead." The estranged leader said
"Why you want to do a thing like that?" The scarred man asked
"I don't know, sport, I guess." Dutch answered nonchalantly
"Fair enough. Why don't I come out there, we fight. Let the professor go and send your boys back to their families?" John questioned trying to find a solution or give him enough time for the woman to fill gain consciousness, she had woken up and had taken to holding the towel herself but John refused to move his hand so she was just holding the back of his to her head, her eyes open as she listened to the conversation.
"Well that, that sounds like a beautiful plan, John. Only problem is, my boys here, they already lost their families a long time ago. We aren't thieves, John, we're fighting for something. A bit like you, only we're fighting for an idea, not just for ourselves." The man below explained as he continued to pace the now empty street, and McDougal slowly made his way towards his bag staying low.
"That's beautiful, Dutch. You always were a fine speaker." John told him knowing all the ways to keep the man talking.
"I was. Now, would you kindly send that academic out here, so we can show him what we really think about the of anthropology?" Dutch called up, as John carefully helped Dixie moved away from the window.
"Please, sir, what are you going to do?" MacDougal asked worried
"I'm going to hand you over to them and watch them tear you limb from limb." John answered as he help the woman stand
"Fuck that hurt." She grumbled pulling the man's hand away from her head, John reached down and picked up her hat the girl used a new towel and her hat to hold it in places against the bullet glaze.
"What?" The professor asked voice shaking in anxiety.
"I'm just kidding. We're going to run across the rooftops, get you back to your ivory tower." John explained with a chuckle, before looking at Dixie, "Can you handle that, Darling?" Which she only nodded
"Oh! Thank you, sir, thank you, sir." McDougal expressed
"Don't thank me, we're still here. Come on." John told him and ushered him to the door, he wrapped an arm around Dixie's waists supporting her as they entered the next room that had excess to the roof not visible by the street. As they entered they all froze as they entered onto a couple having foreplay, Dixie's face burned red as John looked at her with a sly smirk, she quickly slap his arm before he ushered them in and close the door.
"Good day, sir...madam." McDougal greeted
"Look here, sir, what's the meaning of this...this outrage?" The heavy set man asked as the couple crouched behind the bed they where about to violate.
"You two stay down and shut up." John ordered them in a hushed tone, John set Dixie on the bed much to her disapproval as the professor moved the dresser in front of the door making the woman scream and thankfully her man covered her mouth muffling her sounds. John looked out the window watching as a few men entered the building and the professor made his way across the room opening the door and climbed up an ladder
"Come on, we can get to the roof this way." He called back into the room, John carefully picked Dixie up to her feet and lead her to the ladder, he made her go first incase she fell and as she reached the top she disappeared from John's sight making him grow anxious and he quickly follow after her
"John! Help me, John!" McDougal screeched, John stepped onto the roof seeing the professor squirming in an gang members hold while Dixie was still in her captors arms but had position her body clear away from the man's head.
"One more move and their dead!" The man holding McDougal promised but it didn't hold as John fire two shots in almost perfect syncs and the men fell the professor stayed standing as Dixie crumbled to the ground as well.
"My god, you took your sweet time! What'll we do now? They got us pinned down from both sides!" The estranged doctor as John quickly crossed the roof to help Dixie up and moved her to cover behind the building short walls lining the roof, she held her weapon in hand as John got his rifle and made quick work of the men lining the other roof tops firing at them.
"I think that's most of 'em. The coast looks clear." John told them
"Come on, then, let's make a break for it!" McDougal said as he climbed down from the roof, John helped Dixie down and they ran cross a few rooftops to the ladder leading to the alley where the horses stood waiting.
"Can you ride, Darling?" He asked her as his hands rested on her hips helping her down and kept her stable as she tried to steady herself, "That answers that question, come on."
John picked her up into his horses saddled and climbed on behind her and quickly followed the professor from the alley towards the train station in Manzanita Post.
"This really couldn't have gone more horribly wrong." McDougal exclaimed as the road down Main Street, and Dixie couldn't help but notice that Dutch had disappeared.
"At least you got some good material for your next book." John called from behind the man
"You know, I dreamt of documenting the last days of the Old West. The romance, the honor, the nobility! But it turns out it's just people killing each other." The professor yelled over over the horses hooves
"It always was, Professor. And the old West ain't quite dead yet." John told him holding Dixie tighter to him.
"Oh I know, Mr. Marston. Believe me, I know." McDougal said with dread as more men road over the hill and thankfully John as able to rid them without needing help. They finally reached the station but not without the one more attack, John helped Dixie dismount before they followed after the man.
"My research is complete; much as I thought, there's no civilizing this savage land." The professor said as they walked up to the station platform.
"I could have told you that for nothing." John told him honestly as they came to a stop just before the waiting train.
"Ah, but they'll give me a prize in New Haven for this. Well, they bloody better. Well...goodbye, Mr. Marston, Miss. Johnson." McDougal said and awkwardly hugged the both of them and with a tears in his eyes, "Best of luck, dear friends." He said before turning towards the train
"So long, Professor." John cakes giving him a wave as he climbed aboard
"So long, sir." He called after and gave the woman a grateful nod before entering the train leaving the twos lives forever.
The two walked back towards their hitched horse when Dixie spoke up.
"John, where did Dutch run off too?" She asked
"I don't know but I got a feeling he never left Blackwater, come on." He said and helped her back into the saddle once again climbed up behind her and quickly guided them back to town.
They quickly entered the building of Ross's and Archers temporarily office the two officers meeting them on the stairs.
"What a pleasant surprise -- Mr. Marston! An informant just told us some interesting news. Our mutual friend Mr. van der Linde is about to pay call on his bank manager. What do you say to having a little financial discussion with the fellow? This way." Ross ordered leading the two and his agent to the scaffolding giving access to the roof
"Let's get up on the roof. We'll have a clear shot at them from there." Archer informed them, and once again John was helping Dixie climb a ladder.
"That door is the only way in and out of the building, so cover it tight. Do you see the horses to the left, by the building across the street? Dutch's boys hitched them there. They have to run that way to make their escape. Don't start shooting until they're out in the open. If we spook them, they may retreat back and hole up inside. Don't shoot until I give you the signal. Keep your sights trained on that bank door. Nobody shoots until I say." Ross gave them his orders and Informed them on the situation.
Dixie not being much help to a rifle heavy shoot out leaned against the wall next to John holding her aching head, John had left her to take over the bank from the gang but of course she didn't like that plan. So just as John and the small groups of agents following had gotten upstairs Dixie followed just in time to shoot a man hiding just in sight of John's bad eye.
He offered her a thankful nod but also a harsh glare before he kicked open the remaining closed door that Dutch was hiding behind. They all entered John taking lead as he pointed a gun at Dutch, Dixie came to stand behind him resting her arm on his shoulder as she trained her sights on the other man holding another victim hostage.
"It's nice to see you, John." The greying man greeted and also sending a smile to Dixie that made her skin crawl.
"Hello, Dutch." John greeted
"How's Abigail?" Dutch asked
"Well, I hope. I ain't seen her for a awhile..." John answered
"'Cause you've been chasing me or is it because you've been chasing her?" Dutch asked gesturing towards the Johnson girl.
"Let the woman go, Dutch." John order
"Of course, of course...how's your little boy?" The crazed leader asked making movements towards the exit.
"He ain't so little now." John answered
"No, he must be what, 15? 16? Doesn't time fly?" The man recalled
"Don't it just. It's over, man." The scarred man told the person that was once a father to him.
"Of course, of course. I surrender, John. You're the master now." Dutch agreed without agreeing.
"I've been my master since you left me to die." John snapped back
"We all make mistakes, John. I never claimed to be a saint. But equally, I never took you for an errand boy." Dutch remarked
"Just trying to help my family, Dutch, by making compromises we all have to. Now let her go, it's over." John ordered wanting the innocent bank teller out of harms way, seeing nothing but Dixie being in his arms, even if she was safely standing behind him.
"You want the girl, John? You always were the romantic sort. You know, gentlemen, this man here, he chased a whore. Used to ride with us. We all had her, but he claimed her, and you know that makes him a better man than us, especially as he chases after another woman who is just another whore. He's a better man. Have the girl, John." Dutch said making Johns jaw tightened at his remarks.
"Easy, Dutch." John said seeing where this was going
"She's a parting gift from me." The crazed leader said before pushing the girl he was holding as hostage forward she took only one step before her head was exploded from a bullet leaving the chamber of Dutch's gun and made his escape.
John quickly caught the dead girl and rested her gently on the floor as the lawmen ran out the door after the outlaw, the two followed to mount up, Dixie climbing onto her own horse with her own power her wound and headache receding for now.
"What happened in there? We saw Van der Linde escaping with some men." Ross questioned as they all quickly rode out of town
"He stole off with the bank manager in an automobile." Arched added
"Let's just say, Dutch ain't gone and got himself sane. He killed some poor woman." John explained
"There's an old logging camp further down this road. It's been abandoned for years. My guess is that's where they're headed. Come on, follow me!" Ross said and it was quite for a moment as the rode before the same man spoke up, "So, that's the great Dutch? What a role model. The man who made who you are."
"I guess so." John remarked
"Has he changed?" Archer asked with a hint of amusement.
"No, still the same crazy bastard he turned into." John answered with a snap
"How was it seeing him after all this time? Did it tug on your heartstrings?" Ross questioned in a condescending tone
"Kinda reminds me of you. Violent piece of shit who went and confused himself with God." John remarked making Dixie laugh from her horse beside him.
"Isn't that sweet of you? And now you must kill him. Your side is chosen." The pudgy agent remarked.
"My side ain't chosen. My side was given. I'd kill you a hundred times before I killed Dutch, if it was an option." The scarred gunslinger told him honestly.
"Hallelujah! I think we're finally reaching an understanding, Mr. Marston." Ross said in a fake relived tone, they rode on entering Tall Trees and Dixie sore once this was over and Dutch was dead she was never going to set foot into the forest again.
"Who the hell are you fellas anyway? Lawmen or army?" Dixie's asked as she observed the group of men around her.
"We are neither, Miss. Johnson." Archer answered her
"But I have the authority over both." Ross told her with a snap, and Dixie knew if he's tired to order her father he'd already been dead and buried, but up ahead a flaming car quickly changed the topic of conversation.
"There's the car! They must have abandoned it and continued on foot!" Ross observed and they quickly road forward and found themselves in a middle of an ambush.
Dixie and John quickly threw themselves from their saddles and sent the horses off to safety, and they entered the gunfight.
Dixie and John moved swiftly through the chaos of the gunfight, taking cover behind trees and large rocks. Bullets whizzed past them, the air thick with the smell of gunpowder. The lawmen fought with a well-coordinated precision, their experience evident in each calculated shot.
Dixie's hands trembled as she fired her revolver, her aim steady and true. She had grown up in this unforgiving land, honing her skills as a sharpshooter. The gunslinger life had taught her to be resilient, to fight for what she believed in. And now, she fought alongside a man she had come to respect and trust.
John's scars told tales of countless battles and near-death encounters. He moved with a lethal grace, dispatching Dutch's men with deadly accuracy. He had seen the worst of humanity, and it had shaped him into a hardened gunslinger. But beneath the tough exterior, Dixie knew there was a flicker of compassion that burned within him.
As the gunfire subsided, the smoke cleared to reveal a scene of victory. Dutch's men lay lifeless on the ground, the others fleeing. Dixie's heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of relief and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She looked over at John, his face smeared with dirt and blood as the agents approached, Ross and Archer back on theirs horses.
"Where's Dutch, Marston?" Ross asked as the remaining gang members ran into the woods in retreat.
"He got away." John answered
"Scared to shoot him? Too much to handle?" The self centered agent asked in a snarky tone.
"When the opportunity presents itself, I'll put a bullet in him, don't you worry. Won't like myself for doing it, but I'll do it." John told him with a growl
"Good man, good man. You know, at the end of this, you'll probably get a medal. I know I shall." Ross remarked in a tone that made Dixie's suspensions grow and her worry for John especially as he sighed deeply just flat out tired, and she knew she had a call to her father to make.
The agents quickly left heading back to Blackwater and the two gunslingers also followed shortly after, and made their way to the saloon.
Inside the dimly lit saloon, the air hung heavy with the scent of whiskey and the low hum of conversation. John and Dixie found themselves a secluded corner booth, away from prying eyes. Dixie's, head now stitched up and cleaned, her heart raced as she watched John wipe the sweat from his brow, his scars a testament to the battles he had fought.
As they sat in silence, their gazes met, and a knowing smile passed between them. They shared a connection that went beyond words—a silent understanding of the pain and struggles they had both endured. Dixie admired John's strength and resilience, while John found solace in Dixie's unwavering support.
With a gentle touch, Dixie reached across the table and brushed her fingers against John's hand. His calloused palm met hers, and in that simple touch, they found comfort. The world around them faded away as they reveled in the warmth of each other's presence.
In that moment, the saloon's raucous atmosphere became a backdrop to their own private world. They laughed at each other's jokes, their laughter blending harmoniously with the lively music playing in the background. They shared stories of their past, their dreams for the future, and the adventures they longed to embark on.
As the night wore on, Dixie couldn't help but wonder if she should confess her feelings to John. The fear of rejection and the uncertainty of their future held her back. But she couldn't deny the spark that ignited within her whenever she was near him.
John, too, grappled with his own emotions. He admired Dixie's strength and courage, seeing in her a kindred spirit. But the scars of his past made him hesitant to open up, afraid that his demons would taint their connection.
In that bittersweet moment, they found solace in the unspoken understanding they shared. They reveled in the joy of each other's company, dancing around the edges of a romance that dared not be spoken aloud.
As the night came to a close, they bid each other farewell, their fingers reluctantly parting. John watched her enter her rented room. John stood outside Dixie's rented room, his heart heavy with a mix of longing and uncertainty. He couldn't help but replay their time together at the saloon in his mind, the way her laughter had filled the air and her touch had sent shivers down his spine.
Making his way to the balcony he leaned against the railing, staring up at the stars that dotted the night sky. Thoughts of Dixie consumed his every waking moment, and he knew deep down that he had developed feelings for her, feelings that went beyond mere friendship.
But the weight of his past weighed heavily on his shoulders. The scars he carried reminded him of the dangers that lurked in his world, and he feared that his connection with Dixie would only expose her to more pain. John had seen what love had cost him before, and he was hesitant to let history repeat itself.
Lost in his thoughts, John contemplated the path he should take. Should he risk opening his heart to Dixie, knowing that it could bring both joy and heartbreak? Or should he maintain the unspoken bond they shared, keeping their connection in the realm of what-ifs and missed opportunities?
As he stood there, a soft breeze rustled through the night, as if whispering words of encouragement. John closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and made a decision having a feeling he'd already regretted it but he was to stubborn and afraid of change too rethink it.