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Johnny was really getting tired of Stand battles. The race was hard enough, having to cross remote locations, but being stopped constantly by people trying to kill you only made it worse.
They'd had to beat a hasty retreat from the last battle and it wasn't until Johnny was already settled onto Slow Dancer's back that he felt the warm trickle of blood running down his side.
He freed one hand and reached up, touching the spot with a frown. His fingers came away red.
Johnny hissed a breath as he felt the sting of an injury under his arm that he hadn't even realized he had gotten. Sure, bullets had been flying everywhere thanks to that guy's Stand, but he hadn't thought either of them had gotten hurt—though Gyro's hat had gotten another hole in it.
Johnny winced and bit his lip as his probing fingers sent a shot of pain down his whole arm and side. Well, it seemed like the bullet was still in there, but he wasn't bleeding terribly, so there was no point in stopping now when they might run into more trouble because of it. It didn't seem too bad anyway, the bullet stuck just under the skin, not deep at all. Johnny would take care of it himself that night when they made camp. Then Gyro wouldn't even have to worry about it.
Johnny glanced forward at his companion. It had been really nice to have a friend on this journey, but he knew well enough just how much of a burden he was to the older man. Not only did his legs not work, but he seemed to be in constant need of Gyro's help. He was sure it was his own fault that Gyro was getting lower and lower on the race brackets every stage. He just couldn't seem to stop attracting trouble. They had to make it another fifty miles by the next morning to even dream of getting a good placing in the next stage. So, no, he couldn't afford to let Gyro fuss over him, especially when he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
"Johnny, you good?"
Johnny startled to see Gyro glancing over his shoulder, several lengths in front of him and slowing down. Johnny leaned forward to urge Slow Dancer on faster. "Yeah, let's go!" he called.
But as their horses ate the miles, Johnny started to feel like he was getting out of breath, which was weird…He reached up to prod the wound again, but the bullet was definitely just under the skin, no chance that it could have damaged a lung. It hadn't even hit a rib. His vision blurred and he blinked hard. Okay, what the hell was going on?
He blinked again and glanced ahead. Maybe just dust in his eyes? That might explain his shortness of breath too. Johnny tried to even his breathing, but he wasn't feeling any better. In fact, he felt really tired and weak, and his stomach was starting to cramp like he'd eaten bad food. Why was he feeling like this? He hadn't gotten a chance to eat or drink since they left camp that morning, maybe that was why.
Their horses, who were pretty good with endurance, were still going at a moderate clip, but Johnny found he was too tired to sit right and so his bones were just being rattled. Why was he so useless like this? Why couldn't he be perpetually strong, always assertive, like Gyro?
Why couldn't he be more like his brother? If he had been, he wouldn't even be out here.
Never too late to start, he decided. So, he gritted his teeth, tried to calm his breathing, and rode on. He wasn't going to lose them this race just because of his own weakness.
He was startled when Gyro called out a halt, pointing to a river they could see in the distance. Johnny nodded, knowing the horses could use a drink. He could too. Maybe it would help. He was probably dehydrated.
He swayed in the saddle as they slowed down, gripping the horn tightly with one hand so as not to fall. He wouldn't fall…he refused!
His body had other ideas though. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult and he felt downright nauseous. His hand slipped.
He didn't even realize he was falling until he hit the ground.
~~~~~~~
The first indication Gyro got that something was wrong was the sound of a dull thud behind him and Slow Dancer's alarmed whinny. Gyro turned in his saddle seeing Johnny lying on the ground beside his horse.
"Johnny? Why the hell did you fall off your horse?" Gyro demanded. When the younger man didn't even stir, Gyro felt a pit form in his stomach as he hurriedly swung off of Valkyrie and hurried to grab Slow Dancer's reins, calming the distressed horse.
"Johnny," he called again and crouched beside his companion, reaching out to carefully inspect him, running his hands over Johnny to check for broken bones before he moved him.
Once he was satisfied, he rolled Johnny onto his back, and that was when he saw the splotch of red under his right arm.
"Johnny, you idiot!" Gyro hissed as he pulled Johnny up across his knee to make it easier to see. He rucked Johnny's shirt up and saw a bullet resting under the skin right below his armpit. A painful spot for an injury, but it didn't look too bad either. He certainly hadn't lost enough blood to pass out from so why the hell was he unconscious?
That was when Gyro noticed the sheen of sweat on Johnny's forehead and neck, and the labored breaths hissing between his lips. He hurriedly pressed his fingers to Johnny's neck to check his pulse and found it to be fast and thready.
"What the hell?" Gyro muttered.
He checked the wound again and realized it looked redder than it should have. It was way too early for any kind of infection to set in so that only left one explanation.
Those bullets were poisoned.
"Shit," Gyro hissed as he looked around. There was no shelter, but the river wasn't far and he would need fresh water. Thankfully it looked like it would be a clear night. Hopefully none of their enemies found them out here because they would have nowhere to hide.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were injured!" Gyro growled at the unconscious man as he picked him up and whistled for the horses, heading over to the river. "We probably could have avoided this, Johnny."
He got no response aside from Johnny's labored breathing.
Gyro hurriedly set up, snatching Johnny's bedroll from his saddle and throwing it on the ground before lowering the injured man onto it. Johnny lolled bonelessly, head tipped back, obviously fighting to breathe.
Gyro snatched his bag and started to rummage through it for his medical kit, first grabbing soap and washing up in the river. He should probably have hot water, but that could wait until later. He didn't have time to go looking for wood to start a fire right now.
He grabbed a bowl of water and headed back to Johnny, crouching beside his companion and digging through his medical supplies. "You're an idiot, Johnny," he gritted out as he reached out and simply ripped Johnny's shirt to get it off. He could sew it back together later. He pulled Johnny's arm up out of the way to get to the wound. It was an easy matter to get the bullet out since it was just under the skin. Johnny whimpered and flinched as Gyro coaxed it out with a pair of tweezers and sat back on his heels to inspect the bullet. He wiped the blood from it and stuck his tongue against the small object, spitting instantly into the dirt.
Yeah, it was definitely poison, probably some kind of plant judging by the symptoms Johnny was presenting. That meant that hopefully, he could treat it with what he had.
First though, he really needed to flush the wound. He simply picked Johnny up and carried him down to the river. Gyro took his boots and coat off before stepping into the fast running, cold water, lowering Johnny into it.
Johnny's eyes flew open and he gave a strangled cry, flailing.
Gyro held on and repositioned him so his wound was in the current. "Easy. I'm cleaning this out."
"G-Gyro," Johnny gasped, eyes fluttered as his chest heaved with labored breaths, one hand clawing weakly at Gyro's back.
"I've got you," Gyro told him quietly. "Just hang on, Johnny."
Johnny let out a chocked off sob as Gyro pressed against the wound, making sure it got properly flushed to get as much of the poison out as possible.
Once he was satisfied, he pulled Johnny out of the river and dried him off with an extra blanket, helping him into dry pants before he tucked him into the bedroll with several blankets.
Gyro turned back to his bag and reached for his herbal pouch. He had a few things that could draw poison out. However there was another option…
He glanced over to his belt and holsters that he'd taken off when he went into the river. He hadn't really tried this before but the idea was good and should work. Gyro reached for his steel ball and went back to kneel beside Johnny, turning him onto his side so that his injury was exposed.
Johnny moaned and stirred but Gyro steadied him with a hand on his side. "Stay still. This might feel a little strange."
"What are you…?" Johnny murmured but Gyro hushed him and starting up the rotation of the steel ball. He moved Johnny's arm out of the way and settled the spinning ball right over the wound.
Johnny gasped, tensing, but Gyro squeezed his side comfortingly and reached up to ruffle the younger man's hair. "Easy," he murmured, watching as Johnny's flesh twisted where the steel ball sat and gave a small sigh of relief when he saw something trickling from the wound.
He grabbed a cloth and wiped it away, leaving the ball in place for a little while longer until he was sure. Then he eased it away and saw Johnny's body relax into the bedroll. Gyro gave him another reassuring pat and turned back to his herbs, rummaging through them. It wouldn't hurt to make a poultice as well.
"Gyro," Johnny whispered, breathing still a little labored, but sounding a bit better. "Sorry."
"Why's that, Johnny?" Gyro asked, putting some of the herbs into his mouth and chewing them before taking the wad out and packing it into Johnny's wound.
The younger man hissed and tensed. "Was stupid," he muttered.
Gyro leaned over to see his face which looked miserable and pale, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead. "Because you hid the fact that you were injured?" he asked blandly.
Johnny swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.
Gyro sighed and chewed some more herbs to pack into the wound before wrapping a light swatch of cloth over the spot. "Johnny, you won't do it again, will you? You realize that if you'd told me I probably could have gotten the bullet out before the poison started to set in."
"I know," Johnny murmured. "But we were running and I…I just didn't think it was that bad."
"Not that bad? Johnny you fell off your damn horse!" Gyro snapped. The younger man flinched and Gyro huffed a sigh. "You can't do that! We don't have the luxury!"
Johnny sat there for a long second before he started to push himself up onto his elbow. "You're right. I'm feeling better. We can go now."
Gyro was livid. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Need to go," Johnny said firmly. "Can't stop the race on my account." He pushed himself up and instantly swayed, eyes rolling up in his head. Gyro caught him and lowered him back onto the bed roll with a sigh.
"You're not going anywhere in this condition," Gyro informed him.
Johnny's face twisted. "Then go on without me!"
"Johnny," Gyro said quietly and gently tucked a blanket around him like he would one of his younger siblings, reaching out to take Johnny's hat off and push back the strands of hair stuck to his sweaty face. "You're an idiot."
Johnny bared his teeth, breath hissing between them. "Yeah, so leave!"
He was practically hyperventilating and Gyro grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down, bending to meet his eyes firmly. "Johnny, don't be dumb. You're my friend. I'm not going to leave you here. We'll stay until you rest up, the poison should be out of your system in a few hours. We'll make up the time tomorrow."
"But we'll get even further behind!" Johnny protested. "And you need to win!"
"We'll worry about that tomorrow," Gyro promised him.
Johnny ducked his head into the pillow and choked back a sob.
"Don't cry, Johnny," Gyro told him quietly.
"Why don't you just leave me? Why do you care? I'm not even good for anything, I'm useless."
Gyro looked down at him in surprise. "Where the hell is that coming from?"
Johnny trembled, hiding his face under the blankets. Gyro waited but no explanation was given.
However, he felt he had a pretty good idea.
"Look, Johnny, I don't know who ever made you think that, but it's just not true, okay? This race is rough, and I for one am grateful to have someone by my side. It makes it a little easier."
"I don't know how. I don't do anything but get us into more trouble."
Gyro had to laugh. "Yeah, well, that used to be me. All the time. Trust me, takes one to know one. And you're not useless, you idiot, you're my friend. I'm glad you're here."
Johnny looked up at him, dull blue eyes glowering suspiciously. "Are you just playing?"
"No," Gyro said firmly and smiled. "So stop being so hard on yourself."
Johnny looked down again and started to tremble, catching his breath. Gyro reached out to press the back of his hand on Johnny's forehead to check his temperature and Johnny grunted in protest. Gyro retaliated by ruffling his hair.
"Get some rest, Johnny. You'll feel better tomorrow."
"You'll…" Johnny stopped then started again, looking up. "You'll still be here?"
"Of course," Gyro said in surprise.
"Promise?"
Gyro nodded. "I always keep my promises."
Johnny seemed to relax and closed his eyes, gone in an instant.
Gyro watched him for a long moment and felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness overcome him. Whoever had made Johnny feel worthless, he would do everything he could to make sure his friend never felt that way around him.
If nothing else, he could at least do that.
"Sleep well, Johnny," he muttered as he went to make himself some coffee, settling in until Johnny was well enough to travel again.