Chapter Text
Raymond walked into the kitchen after being hounded by Uncle to go and help Abigail, quietly closing the door behind him. He watched the woman work for a while, before clearing his throat, making Mrs. Marston jump in surprise.
”Christ, Douglas! You scared the living daylights outta me!” She huffed, putting a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart. “How do you move around so damned quietly?!” Abigail smacked Raymond’s arm with the spoon in her hand, which made him chuckle, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, miss… Came here ‘cause Uncle said you were needin’ help with something.” He explained, wiping his dirty hands on his shirt, which made Abigail scoff.
“Well first, go rinse your hands in the washbasin, then you can help out.” She huffed, watching the man rinse off. “So, you and Jack gettin’ along? I’ve been seeing you two trade books every so often.” Raymond perked up at that, drying his hands on a rag that Abigail handed to him. “I would say so, yeah. He's an alright kid, Jack. I was just like him at that age… Stomping around, all that. I can tell you two love him, though.”
Ray took off his wide-brimmed sun hat, wiping away the condensation that had gathered on his forehead. He hung the hat up off to the side, hair sticking up at odd angles, making Abigail giggle quietly as she reached up and wordlessly flattened out his hair.
”You’ve got a whole lot of hair on you, Raymond. Must not be too pleasant in this weather, I imagine.” She hummed, reaching down and brushing some dirt off the man’s shirt as well.
”It really isn’t. I’d properly take my shirt off if I weren’t afraid of gettin’ a sunburn.” The man mumbled, reaching up to scratch the newly healed scar on his exposed chest. Abigail cleared her throat, taking a step back from the other and tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. It seemed that something was on her mind, but it wasn’t too obvious as to what, exactly. Abigail had oddly been acting more and more nervous around him, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever to him. This woman, with the strength and fortitude of an Ox, had been shying away from him, and only god knows why. John had been acting weird as well… Was something wrong?
The ranch hand was pulled out of his thoughts as he was handed a wooden spoon by Abigail. “Do you cook?” She asked, head cocked to the side. A few strands of long, black hair fell over her face, framing it beautifully. Raymond looked off to the side to avoid staring any longer, taking his glasses off to clean them with the handkerchief tucked in his back pocket. “Um, Yes, actually. Cooked for this French family when I worked for them a few months back.” That seemed like a good enough response for Abigail, who grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the pot of stew that was cooking.
”I’m terrible at it.” She admitted, sounding utterly defeated. “Up until a couple of years ago, I didn’t have to worry about cooking, we had Pearson doing that for us… Now, no matter how hard I try, I can’t make anything taste right.” Abigail turned to Raymond with a frown on her face.
“Well..” Raymond paused for a moment, taking the spoon and tasting a bit of the stew, licking his lips in thought. He grabbed some of the dried herbs hanging up, before tossing them in the pot and stirring it. “Those herbs aren't just for decoration, you know.” He teased, lightly nudging Abigail with his elbow.
They went back and forth for a good 10 minutes, though Raymond eventually ended up teaching Abigail a few more things about cooking. Dinner that night was quiet, everyone scraping their bowls clean and thanking Abigail for the meal.
Once Raymond was finished helping the woman clean up, he headed back out to the barn, which seemed oddly quiet. A quick look around confirmed his suspicions.
The horses were gone, save for the two that were hitched by the house.
“John! Mr Marston!” He called out, running over to the man who was currently chopping wood. Raymond paused to catch his breath, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Our– Your horses. They're gone.” John paused, and set down the ax, reaching up to tie his long hair in a low ponytail.
“All of them?” He asked gruffly.
“No, sir. Just the ones that were in the barn. Must've been stolen while we were eating.” Raymond grabbed a nearby rope, hooking it to his hip. “They'll be easy to track, but we'll have to head out now if we want to find them.”
John just nodded, heading inside the house for a moment. He exited with Abigail stuck to his side, and a shotgun in hand, handing the firearm off to Raymond. “We won't be long, Abigail. Won't be killing nobody neither, less we have to.” Abigail let out a shaky sigh, wiping her eyes before pulling John down into a short kiss. She reached over to Raymond as he slung the gun over his shoulder, giving him a quick, tight hug. “Stay safe, you two. Get those horses back.”
The two were on their horses in the blink of an eye, following the trail of hooves left by the stolen horses. The trail led off into the woods, much to John’s dismay.
“Something the matter, Mr. Marston?” Raymond asked, slowing to a trot when he saw the disgruntled look on John’s face.
“Mmh. Skinner territory. Not too fond of these fellers…” John grumbled, looking over at the other. Raymond couldn’t hold eye contact for more than a few seconds before looking down at the ground, narrowing his eyes at the trail that they were following. “They must be nearby… It wouldn’t have been skinners that took them, right? Skinners don't usually, well… You know.”
John just hummed, a hand resting on his pistol. Raymond couldn’t help but stare, though immediately peeled his eyes away when John turned to look at him. The devil had gotten to him, with all these downright odd thoughts he was having. Better to not pay it any mind.
They rode on for a while, the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. Raymond opened his mouth to say something, but froze as he heard whinnies nearby. He hopped off of Beetle and ushered John to do the same, grabbing the shotgun he prayed he didn't have to use on anyone that day.
Raymond crouched down next to a bush, scouting out the area before doing anything too rash. “I don't see nobody. Should we just head on in and grab ‘em?” He asked John in a hushed voice, getting a shrug in response.
“Can’t be sitting here all night, can we?”
With that, the two headed down to where the horses were tied, Raymond taking a moment to soothe them before they headed off. Just as he untied the last horse from the tree they were hitched on, when he heard a bullet whiz by, knocking off his hat in the process.
“Shit!” He yelped, watching helplessly as the horses scattered. Raymond ducked behind a tree, hearing the wood splintering as he was being shot at by God-knows-who. John was shooting back just a couple feet over, shouting obscenities at their attackers. Raymond was frozen in place, gripping tightly onto the shotgun that was formerly slung over his shoulder. What was he supposed to do? He hadn’t shot at a person before. Surely it wouldn’t be too different from shooting a wolf… Even then, Raymond struggled with shooting wolves!
Too lost in his overthinking, Raymond hadn’t noticed John shouting at him until it was too late. A man grabbed him and threw him to the dirt, raising a hatchet above his head. The ranch hand could just about feel his heart drop to his stomach, before he raised his gun and pulled the trigger.
Blood and viscera rained down and painted his face and glasses as the now headless man fell to the ground beside him. Red covered the tree behind where the man once stood, discolored white shards sticking out like shrapnel. Raymond just laid there dazed, still gripping the shotgun with white knuckles. The gunshots had stopped, and John rushed over, reaching down to help Raymond back to his feet.
“Shit… You alright?” He asked tersely, taking off his neckerchief. Raymond shook his head as the other man wiped the blood and brains off his face, frowning slightly as he did. “Probably shouldn’t’ve given you the shotgun…” He mumbled, taking off Raymond’s glasses to clean those as well. Raymond looked down to see a wound on John’s arm, likely being grazed by a bullet. He asked, but John brushed him off, saying he’d deal with it once they got home.
John rounded up the horses, and helped Raymond onto his, much to Raymond’s confusion. It’s not like he was hurt, or anything.
The ride back to the ranch was uncomfortably quiet.
After returning the horses to the barn, Raymond sent John back to the house to get his arm taken care of while he took the saddles off the horses, and the bits out their mouths. It took all his energy to take his mind off of the image of the man he had killed. It may have been in self defense, but the weight of the guilt he felt just about made his knees buckle.
Beetle nosed at his hand, pulling him out of his spiral of thoughts and snorting at him when he reached up to pat her neck. She was good at telling when he was distressed, distracting him with her antics as well as begging for treats. He laughed as she pressed her nose against his shirt pocket, knowing he kept peppermints in there.
As Raymond stood there, letting his horse cuddle up to him, the barn door opened and John and Abigail stepped through.
“John told me what happened… Oh, Raymond, you’re white as a sheet- Come here.” Abigail said softly, Raymond pulling himself away from Beetle and letting himself be dragged into a hug from the woman. She reached up to pet his hair, making him fall apart in her arms like a stray dog being shown love for the first time in his life. Both of the Marstons did their best to comfort him as he cried, John keeping a heavy hand on his shoulder while Abigail let him cry onto hers. The guilt and shock absolutely wrecked him. Raymond couldn't remember the last time he cried like this, if ever.
Both Abigail and John led a wilty Raymond back to the house, around to the butcher's table that had been repurposed into his room. Not many words were exchanged as he was laid down, and left to get some rest. Raymond stayed like that for a while, staring up at the ceiling, eyes blurred from both the tears and lack of glasses.
It must've been around midnight by the time Raymond got up and out of bed, making a beeline straight to the washroom. Maybe a bath would help him feel a little better. Wash away this grimy feeling he had.
It took quite some energy, but the bath was now partly full of warm, soapy water, and Raymond sank right in after getting undressed.
The bath did make the man feel at least a little bit better. Even if the blood that he got on himself was cleaned off by John as they rode back, Raymond still felt caked in it. After dunking himself under the water one last time, he sat up, slowly climbing out of the bath so as to not slip. With one leg out, Raymond looked up as he heard the door open, his gaze meeting John’s as he stood at the door, one hand on the doorknob. They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, Raymond too utterly shocked to think to cover himself. John finally turned on his heel, closing the door without so much as a word as he left. Ray stood there for a moment, naked as the day he was born, a wave of embarrassment washing over him.
He was in a daze as he dried off and got dressed, emptying the tub as well. Had John… Seen anything? The light was quite dim, and Raymond was pretty hairy… The man groaned softly, holding his tomato-red face in his hands. He couldn't believe he was thinking about this. Did John know he was a transsexual now? Was he going to get kicked out? Or worse? Hundreds of thoughts plagued his mind as he walked back to his bed, dropping his shirt on the floor as he laid down. Raymond decided to worry about it once he got some sleep.
—-
Raymond woke up with the sun the next morning, groaning at how puffy his eyes were. At least he was well rested. No nightmares or anything, thank God.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee had lured him into the kitchen, where he found Abigail and John chatting over their respective mugs of coffee, pausing when they noticed Raymond. Now is as good a time as any to tell them, he thought.
”Hey,” Raymond greeted the two, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Can I… Tell you two something?” He asked, nervously tracing his fingers over the dents and scratches on his tin cup.
“Course.” John replied, his voice scratchier than usual. “Something the matter?”
Raymond shook his head, eyes fixed on the floorboards. “No, uhm… I’m a transsexual. Was born a girl, but now I’m not. Was friends with a doctor and he gave me something that helps me be more… You know. Put some hair on my chest.” He couldn’t look at the two in front of him, now staring into his cup of coffee. Were they going to throw him out now? He hoped not… He really liked these two. Loved them, even, but he’d give that more thought at a later date.
“Oh, Raymond… Quit looking so nervous, we ain’t gonna kick you out or nothing.” Abigail said with a small laugh, reaching over and patting the man’s tense shoulder, making him relax a little. He let out a long, relieved sigh, reaching up and rubbing his forehead. “I’m glad. Wanted to say somethin’ cause John here saw me get outta the bath last night and… You know.” His face reddened as he recalled last night, and so did John’s.
”Er, sorry about that.” The other man said softly, looking down at his boots. Abigail rolled her eyes, finishing her coffee. “Alright, get to work, boys. And no funny business.” She teased, earning her embarrassed looks from both the men.
And that was that.