Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a calm night on Eden-6, like most. The rain wasn’t too heavy, it hit the ground lazily creating a soothing hum, but when rain lasts for more than a week, it can get tedious. The atmosphere was damp and way too hot for comfort, but that wasn’t a surprise for a planet which consisted mainly of swamps. A man at the Jakobs Manor was still awake. He had a book in one hand, and a whiskey in the other one; it was hard to tell which was older. He had made himself comfortable on his favourite armchair, and his coat and his tie rested on a cloth hanger. He was so engrossed in his lecture that he didn’t hear someone walking up to the room until they burst the door open violently.

“Wainwright!”, yelled Montgomery Jakobs, stepping into his son’s study, “Pack your stuff, we’re leaving on a hunting expedition!”

The poor man almost threw his book and his whiskey all over the floor.

“God damnit, pa! Can’t you knock?! You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days!”, mouthed Wainwright.

“No time for that, kiddo, we’re leaving in two days and it takes you forever to pack a bag, so you’d better start now!”, Montgomery replied.

The only thing on Wainwright’s mind was “Oh, no, not another hunting expedition, not again.”

“Two days, you say? Well, damn, turns out I have a... a meeting! Umm, yes, an important meeting…”, Wainwright lied, “Corporative stuff, you’re the boss, I’m sure you understand. You can’t treat me any different for being your son, I can’t skip a meeting for some vacation, right?”

“Nonsense!”, exclaimed Mongomery, “That’s what privilege is for, you gotta take advantage of it, kid!”

“Isn’t that… kinda wrong?”

“Stop saying nonsense and do as I tell you!”, said Montgomery, taking the book away from his son’s hands and earning a frustrated growl from him, “Ah, you read too many books, they’re gonna rot your brain! You should shoot more!”

I would if I wasn’t blind in one goddamn eye, thought Wainwright, but preferred to stay silent.

“Y’know, I don’t think I should come, I think we both know that I’d be a burden. I shoot like a drunken grog that has banged its head against a rock and now has brain damage.”

Montgomery let out a long, loud laugh. It lasted for so long that Wainwright felt a slight sting of pain in his chest.

“Nah, that would shoot better than you. But that’s not what matters now, you have to come with me. We’ll have one helluva fun time!”, insisted the father.

“Ugh, do I really have to? Won’t you have more fun with your hunter friends?”, groaned the younger man.

The last thing Wainwright wanted was to spend a week lost in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by drunk men who only tolerated him because he was his father’s son, and who secretly laughed at him whenever he missed a target, which was often. The truth is, he had never been good with people, which is why he preferred lonely activities like reading, listening to old music, getting drunk on his own, or shooting at cans (and missing) when he was sure that no one could see him.

“This is also a business trip, kid”, Montgomery said, “It’s always good to have a good relationship with hunters and other kinds of gun users. They buy the most expensive models and promote the brand!”

Then, he got serious, and laying one hand on his son’s shoulder, he continued:

”I’m getting old, and I won’t be around forever…”

“Not this woe-is-me bullshit again.”, Wainwright sighed.

“Shut up and listen, kid. One day, this company will be yours, which means this will be your job. You should start getting ready for it, and trips like these are always a great opportunity.”

The son tensed. He hated this conversation, and Monty had been bringing it up a lot recently. The thought of his father dying and having to take his place in the company twisted his insides, so he tried to change the subject.

"Why don't you take Clay with you? He likes this sort of stuff."

And you like him more than you like me, he thought of adding, but he bit his tongue.

"Already asked, he's busy."

"Of course you already asked…", muttered Wainwright.

“Besides, you have to come because there’s someone I want you to meet”, Montgomery continued.

“Who could you possibly want me to meet from a crew of hunters?”

“A really great guy! You’ve been single for a very long time, I think you need a little push. That’s what your old man’s for!”, said Montgomery, giving his son a strong pat on the back.

“Oh, no, no way! Over my dead body!”, Wainwright yelled, still feeling sore from the pat.

“Why not? You can’t stay single forever! Wait… you’re still gay, right?”

“What kinda question is that?!”

“Just sayin’ because I’ve heard he has a sister. He’s a handsome lad, maybe the genes run in the family.”

Wainwright sighed with exasperation, still not believing his father’s words.

“For the love of god, pa, we’ve talked about this. I am gay, and I’ve always been, and I will always be, because that can’t be changed, and…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, kid. Just listen to me. You’re gonna meet him, and that’s final. You are forty-five years old, Wainwright! You need to get married and have kids, someone needs to run the company when you’re gone!”

“What if I wanna be a single dad and adopt a couple of kids? Or maybe I just don’t wanna have kids at all.”, Wainwright said in a challenging voice. He didn't mean it, but he had always found pleasure in defying his dad. The way his eyes widened and his teeth gritted together at his son’s audacity was priceless.

“Look, dealing with the fact that you are not going to marry a woman and have biological kids is hard enough, the least you can do is marry a man with a good social status and help the company!”

“You are unbelievable. I don’t need you to get me a partner, you’re not my matchmaker, damnit! Every time you say you’ve found a perfect man for me, it turns out we have nothing in common and that they don’t like me at all! You tell them that I’m this strong, adventurous, tough guy, and the best gunslinger you’ve ever seen. Then they meet me and find out I'm a loser and a joke!”

“So I stretch the truth a little bit, no big deal! Sometimes it’s necessary. This time I can assure you he’s the one”, Montgomery insisted.

“No, I don’t want to hear it…”, said Wainwright, heading towards the door and taking his whiskey with him.

“He comes from a good family, one of the most powerful ones out there, he even has a title! Imagine what that can do for the company!”, Montgomery continued, “And you’re gonna like him. He’s brave, adventurous… Oh, and he reads books, just like you! And he writes as well, very clever kid, you can ask him about anything!”

“I don’t know, pa… I really don't see it.”

“Come on, just give him a shot! And if it doesn’t work, I promise to leave you alone.”

“Oh, just like the other fifty times?”

“Yeah, but this time is for real!”

They both knew that wasn’t true, but Wainwright was too tired to keep on fighting. He sighed deeply, crossed his arms defensively, and replied:

“Alright, alright, I’ll give the guy a chance, but I just do it to shut you up.”

"That's the spirit, kiddo!"

Chapter Text

After twenty unending hours of flight, the Jakobs stepped down from the ship. Wainwright was afraid that he had agreed to go somewhere horrible, like a frozen tundra or something equally awful. Fortunately, the chosen place for the expedition was Eden-3, a tropical paradise. It had earned a good reputation over the decades for being a quiet place for vacation and tourism. The volcanoes were the most impressive attraction, but the planet had much more to offer, like the beaches with pitch black sand, the always still blue sea, the exotic vegetation, and the ancient architecture.

Wainwright's attention was immediately caught by a huge temple in the distance. He'd read about it on the way there, and hoped he could escape his obligations for a while and do some sightseeing.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he couldn't help but flinch. It was his father, and he was pointing at someone, trying to show something to him.

"Hey, kiddo! Remember the guy I told you? The one I wanted you to meet? He's right over there!"

Oh no, thought Wainwright, not now. Not yet. He wasn't ready. He was going to mess everything up and embarrass himself!

"No, no, I can't do it, pa. I-I'm not ready! I've been inside a ship for twenty hours, I'm exhausted and I look like shit!"

"Sure you can! I'm gonna call him over…"

"Pa, no!"

But it was too late. Montgomery raised his arm to call the man's attention and he waved back, as he headed towards them. When he got closer, Wainwright was able to see his face better. A thought crossed his mind. His face rang a bell… Soon enough, he was able to recognise his face properly.

It couldn't be. It couldn't be him.

A thousand thoughts crossed Wainwright's brain, mostly horrible ones, involving situations where he humiliated himself in front of the man.

“Woah, hold up a moment, you didn’t tell me it was Sir Hammerlock!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise!”

“We’re talking about Sir Hammerlock here, he’s one of the most important explorers and scholars of our time.", Wainwright explained, "He has travelled all over the six galaxies, fought the most dangerous creatures, published countless journals, and his contributions to science and history will be remembered for centuries. He is a legend. We have nothing in common!”

“Lighten up, kid! Just because you’re average and ordinary doesn’t mean he can’t end up paying attention to you.”, laughed Montgomery.

“He will not, especially when he finds out that everything you’ve told him about me is a lie. Besides, do you even know if he’s gay?”

“Well, I don’t know him that well, and I don’t ask directly anymore since you told me it was “invasive” and “none of my goddamn business”. But he’s a bit… y’know.”

““Y’know” what?”

“He’s… well, y’know.”

““Y’know” what?”

“Fruity.”

“So… “feminine”?”

“Yeah.”

Wainwright inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm himself down.

“You’re telling me that you’re trying to set me up with a guy that you don’t even know if he’s attracted to men or not, and that even if he is, he is way out of my league.", Wainwright concluded, still in shock, "I knew it, I should have stayed at home, this is not gonna end well…”

But before he managed to get back into the ship, the newcomer reached them and started a conversation. Too late to hide now.

"Good day! I hope you had a safe flight. Monty, first of all, I can't thank you enough for organising this event. It's simply perfect!"

"Ah, Sir Hammerlock, you're too kind, as always!", Montgomery beamed, "Oh, by the way, this is my kid, Wainwright! I told you about him, remember?"

Please don't remember, thought Wainwright, please forget every lie my father has told you about me.

"Ah! It's so great to finally meet you, Mr. Jakobs. Your father has told me great things about you", said Sir Hammerlock, giving him a wide, sincere smile and holding out his robotic hand.

Wainwright politely returned the smile and shook his hand in return. He could feel how strong and energetic his grip was, a perfectly fitting gesture for someone like Sir Hammerlock. He couldn't help but wonder how he had lost his arm, as well as his leg and his eye, but of course, he was polite enough not to ask. He assumed it happened while doing something brave and heroic.

"Please, call me Wainwright, Mr. Jakobs is my father", said the man, fully aware of the cliché that had just come out from his mouth.

"Very well", he nodded, "Anyway, it’s a real pleasure to meet you, Wainwright."

"Ah, yes, the feeling is mutual. Looking forward to… uh… hunt by your side. Yes, hunt. I'm eager to hunt. Can't wait", he stammered.

Goddamnit, get it together, Wainwright!, he thought, Sir Hammerlock seems to be very nice and well-mannered, no reason to feel intimidated.

"Brilliant!", the hunter replied, bringing his hands together in excitement and creating one loud clap that startled Wainwright, "I can't wait either, to be honest".

"Ah, I see you've met my kid!", Montgomery interrupted, "Glad to see you two getting along. Now, why don't you go get something to shoot? The expedition leader has planned a little game to warm up before the big hunt tomorrow. The Cure is in your tent, with the rest of your stuff. Sir Hammerlock, you’ve been here many times, do you mind guiding Wainwright there?”

“Gladly! Follow me, if you’re so kind”, said Hammerlock, giving the younger Jakobs a quick bow.

Wainwright had never met anyone like this. He was weird, but in a charming way. That bow and that nobleman attitude had managed to catch his attention, it was nice to have someone treat you in such a classy way. He could clearly tell that he wasn’t one of those stuck-up aristocrats who always looked down on him for being “too country”, but he wasn’t one of those hunters who were nothing but brutes with skag droppings for brains either… He knew his father meant well by trying to get them together, but Sir Hammerlock didn’t seem like the kind of man who had many things in common with someone like him.

“So, Wainwright…”, started Hammerlock, breaking the silence, “Monty has used this place for hunting expeditions countless times, how come you have never accompanied him, if I may ask?”

“Umm... Well, I… I’m not too good at hunting...”, he admitted, feeling a sting of shame in his chest.

"You’re a Jakobs, you were born with a pistol in your hands, I’m sure you’re just being modest!", he laughed.

"A-ah, you're too nice...", he muttered, feeling his cheeks getting hotter, "And I actually prefer shotguns, by the way."

"Oh, really? How interesting! I prefer rifles, and at first glance I would have guessed that you did too. They’re precise, and great for long distance attacks, but they can also save your life if you find yourself in a close encounter with a wild skag! But now that I think about it, I can see you carrying a shotgun, it suits you! I have heard that the name of your personal weapon is The Cure, if I am not mistaken?"

To be fair, Wainwright wasn't paying much attention to Hammerlock’s chattering. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was going to cope with the public humiliation that awaited him. The hunter thought quite highly of him so far, and he wasn't looking forward to the moment when he would realise how much of a mess he was.

"Wainwright? Are you listening?", said Hammerlock, interrupting his train of thought. 

"What? Ah, sorry! I got distracted for a bit. Yes, my shotgun is called The Cure. It has been my closest friend for more than twenty years!"

"Really? That’s truly impressive! May I know why it is called The Cure? Seems like an odd name for a weapon. Most people go for something that accentuates its destructive power, or the amount of creatures it has slayed. You know, something impactful and menacing! Not that The Cure doesn’t sound menacing, I didn’t mean to be rude..."

"Oh! Ah, well, it's because…"

The reason Wainwright had chosen to name his personal weapon “The Cure” was his blindness, and he didn't feel comfortable telling Hammerlock about it, at least not yet. He had never managed to feel fully confident about it, despite having had to deal with it since birth, so he preferred to make something up.

“Ah! It’s because.... with it, I give whoever crosses my path “the cure”!”, he laughed.

Hammerlock gave him a confused look. Wainwright could tell he was trying to be polite, but the poor man didn’t get it at all, so he kept on explaining to try to save it.

“Y’know… cos’ I kill ‘em… That’s the cure, the cure is death...”

The hunter remained silent for a while more, processing the information, until suddenly he started giggling. The volume progressed until he was splitting his sides, much to the other man’s surprise.

"Was it really that good?", asked Wainwright.

"No, it was terrible", Hammerlock replied, still cackling, "It makes no sense at all. But you have managed to make it funny."

Wainwright fixated his gaze on the man next to him. Watching him laugh like that made him feel something inside, something that made his body and his mind go numb. He could feel his mouth curling into a smile. He had made Sir Hammerlock laugh, and he was going to take pleasure in that. The young Jakobs took time to study his expression: the glow in his eyes, the way his lips had grown into a grin, the wrinkles that had just taken shape on his face… It all made his heart flutter. They had just met, but for some reason, he already felt comfortable around him.

“Well, I cannot wait to see you in action”, Hammerlock said, snapping Wainwright out of his fantasies, “May we hunt many beasts together!"

"Ah, yes. Hunting. It will be great."

"You don't sound too excited", remarked the adventurer in a hurt tone, “Am I bothering you? Is it because I talk too much? My apologies, I can be a bit of a chatterbox when I’m excited, I just can’t help it...”

"No, no, I am excited!", he lied, feeting guilt taking over him, "And you’re not talking too much, I promise! It's going to be one helluva hunting trip, I can tell. We're gonna have a blast."

Hammerlock stared at Wainwright for a while, scrutinising his expression, still not feeling convinced.

"Right. Anyway, we have finally reached the tents. I… uh… will be right there.”

Wainwright didn’t add anything else. He couldn’t think of a way to relieve the tension, so he cordially thanked him and left for his tent. He always used the same one in all his expeditions, it wouldn’t be difficult to find. 

While he marched, he couldn’t get Hammerlock’s upset look off his head. The hunter was probably under the impression that he wasn’t too eager to spend the weekend hunting with him, and while when it came to the hunting part this was correct, he actually was looking forward to spending time with him in general terms, even if it involved something so tedious. Wainwright wanted to get to know more about who Hammerlock was: he knew he was undubitatively charming and charismatic, as well as well-mannered and gifted with marksman abilities. But that was just the surface, and he was planning on finding his path all the way to the core. Besides, due to his reserved lifestyle, he didn’t have many chances to meet good-looking men who showed interest in him, so he wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. With a bit of luck, that interest wasn’t just purely social, but romantic as well.

Chapter Text

After retrieving The Cure, Wainwright returned to Hammerlock. They walked in silence for a while, until Wainwright finally decided to start some conversation.

“Hey, Hammerlock. Just so you know, I am excited to spend the day hunting with you, I really mean it”, he stated, “It’s just that, as I said, I’m not too good at long-distance shooting, y’know? I’m not the best marksman out there, so it’s not about you, I promise. I’m actually very glad to have you here.”

Hammerlock raised his eyebrows in surprise, but soon he gave him a fond look.

“Oh, Wainwright, you are such a dear…”

“Ah, I’m just telling the truth”, he mumbled awkwardly, “Hanging out with you is nice.”

“I’m relieved to hear that”, he chuckled, “I was concerned that you didn’t like me. Hanging out with you is nice as well.”

Wainwright smiled softly. Maybe his father had gotten it right this time, maybe Sir Hammerlock was the right man for him… He could hear his heart racing, his mouth drying and his palms sweating; he hoped and prayed that Hammerlock didn’t notice any of these awkward inconveniences. The pair strolled along the forest, chatting vigorously and cackling. They discussed literature, music, alcohol, and between all the jokes and the teasing, they shared small bits about each other. 

“I cannot believe that you enjoy drinking that revolting, corrosive beverage!”, Hammerlock laughed.

“Excuse you, Mr. “I-have-a-title-and-I’m-fancy”, but old whiskey tastes like heaven”, Wainwright replied with a teasing voice.

“If you brought me a glass and told me that it is car oil, I would believe it”.

“C’mon, gimme a break! And what do you think is the best drink to have in your hand while listening to Digby Vermouth, if you’re so smart, huh?”

“A nice Martini.”

“Ah, that’s a classic. Can’t go against that, you win."

“Look at us, bantering and bickering already…”, Hammerlock chuckled.

“Well, I feel like I’ve known you for a long time, I’m comfortable around you…”, said Wainwright, giving him a genuine smile and expecting to receive a positive response from his timid flirting attempt, but their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the other members of the expedition.

“Hey, you two, you’re finally here! The expedition is about to start!”, barked one of them, “What the hell took you so long?"

A tall, tough-looking hunter walked forward with a cocky attitude.

"Told you guys we’d find them together", he barked, "Picking daisies, or whatever it is they like to do.”

Wainwright could feel his jaw tensing and his teeth clenching together. Great, another homophobic alpha male who needs to prove himself to his pack by being bigoted, he thought.

"Watch your mouth or I'm gonna have to cut your tongue off, asshole", he replied taking a good hold of his shotgun, "And who the hell are you?"

The aforementioned "asshole" took a step forward, making Wainwright feel quite small. But thanks to repressing his emotions for so many years, he managed to look unaffected.

"Ludo. I'm sure you've heard about my great achievements as a hunter. Can't say the same thing about you, people only know who you are because of your surname. People don’t know much about you, since you never show your ass around events… especially hunting ones. It’s because you can’t even shoot properly, right?"

“T-that’s not true!”, Wainwright accused, trying to hide the shake in his voice.

“Oh, come on, we’ve all heard the rumours”, said another one.

But before Wainwright could say something back, the man right next to him intervened.

“Ah, Ludo, I remember you now!", said Hammerlock, strolling forward in a cheerful manner, "We were just fetching some weapons, since the competition is about to begin. I certainly did not expect to see you on another hunting expedition after that incident from last time, at least not so soon. I’m relieved that you’re feeling better."

Ludo raised his eyebrows, and stepped forward menacingly.

"What incident from last time? I don't recall anything special."

"You lost a game and had a tantrum, awfully deplorable behaviour in my opinion, and they had to drag you out of the shooting area because you were making people uncomfortable. Ah, memories, what fun!"

Some giggles could be heard coming from the group of hunters, along with comments like “Ah, yes, I remember”, “That was fun to watch”, and “I must have the video around somewhere”.

"I suggest that you stay in your place, Hammerlock", hissed Ludo, stepping dangerously close.

"And I suggest that you stay in yours", he calmly replied, without breaking eye contact.

Ludo remained silent for a couple of long, tense seconds, and then finally stepped back.

“Can’t wait to compete against you”, he said in a defying tone.

“The feeling is mutual”, Hammerlock smiled.

Ludo made a gesture, and the other hunters followed him to the shooting area. Meanwhile, Wainwright couldn’t keep his eyes from Hammerlock. He was astonished at the way he had gracefully fought Ludo off.

“Well, I'll be damned, I’m impressed! You really went for that bastard! That guy was twice your size and you didn’t even blink!"

“I have been attending these sort of expeditions for many years, so let’s say that this is not the first time I have had to face men like these", Hammerlock sighed, "I can assure you that I am not afraid of them, nor feel intimidated”, he calmly stated, “And as you might have guessed, I've already had the misfortune of facing Ludo before. Comments like this are not new, he always has the need to let everyone know how much of a "macho" he is, mainly by making homophobic and sexist remarks. I attend this sort of expeditions to enjoy myself and have some laughs with people who share my interests, so I am not willing to take anyone's bigoted, narrow-minded remarks.”

"Damnit, well said", said Wainwright.

"And let me tell you, you were quite impressive as well. Threatening Ludo to cut off his tongue, and afterwards calling him an asshole? You're daring. And a bit of a madman as well."

"Heh, that was nothing”, he brushed it off, feeling his cheeks getting hotter, “You should see how we roll on a Jakobs family barbecue… A-anyway, shall we go? Don't want to keep anyone waiting."

"Of course!", smiled Hammerlock, "After you."

Chapter Text

When Hammerlock and Wainwright arrived at the shooting ground, they were greeted by the other hunters. Well, they actually greeted Hammerlock, and ignored Wainwright completely. Not that he was complaining, though.

"Hey, it's Hammerlock, guys! He's finally here!", called a man in the distance.

"Come, man, we're about to begin!", continued another, "We were talking about who goes first."

Suddenly, a voice in the group said:

"Ooh, let Hammerlock go first! He's the best out of all of us, seeing him shoot is always a great show!"

Everyone nodded in agreement, and started cheering for him. Wainwright had already heard before about how loved Hammerlock was between hunters and explorers. Mostly everyone in the expedition considered him an idol and treated him with respect, and now that Wainwright had had the opportunity to talk to him in person, he understood why.

But not everyone felt the same way about the famous hunter. Ludo grew tense as he felt jealousy taking over his body. Hammerlock, on the other hand, chuckled at the sight of the crowd encouraging him, and said:

"Well, it is tradition that the expedition leader is the one in charge of opening the expedition. Being a gentleman, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking that spot away from him, it would be incredibly rude of me. So please, Ludo, if you might…”

The hunters nodded in approval and whispered between them, praising Hammerlock and his choice. Meanwhile, Wainwright stared at him in admiration. “Smart bastard…”, he thought. Instead of stealing the spotlight, he had decided to remain humble, which was exactly what he needed to win the crowd. And he knew that very well. But Wainwright wasn’t the only one staring directly at him. Ludo had also realised that the expedition members had started to gravitate more towards Hammerlock instead of towards him, and he was very aware that this was his little revenge after the incident before. Ludo wasn’t the kind of man to let things go, and being ridiculed like that in front of everyone felt like a direct punch to his already fragile masculinity. As he marched towards the shooting area, he had an idea.

"Hold up!", interrupted Ludo, "It's the first time we see the Jakobs heir make an appearance in one of our expeditions! Shouldn't he have the honour to be the first one to shoot? It would be my pleasure to grant him the opportunity."

“Motherfucker.”, Wainwright muttered.

Montgomery Jakobs could feel his soul leaving his body.

“A-ah… Well, that won’t be necessary. You’re the expedition leader, it is tradition that you shoot first.”

“Please, I insist.”, Ludo said, faking a polite smile, “It’s always a joy to watch a Jakobs hitting some targets.”

Everyone laid his eyes on Wainwright, waiting for an answer. He was in no position to refuse, so he took a deep breath and headed towards the shooting area, keeping his head high. The man took a good hold of his shotgun and tried to focus on the target. He could feel his hands grow cold, despite the asphyxiating heat in the air. Then, he took a glance at his side, and realised one person in the group was rooting for him: Hammerlock. The hunter looked so eager to see him do well that it melted his heart right away. He had a bright, hopeful smile on his face, and when he raised his thumb encouragingly, Wainwright was done for. He couldn’t help but give him a shaky smile back.

"What are you waiting for? Just shoot!", someone yelled in the back.

Wainwright focused on the targets again, wearing an embarrassed look on his face, and got himself ready to shoot. He aimed The Cure the best he could, and prayed to at least hit one sad, single target. His finger curled up to the trigger, he held his shotgun into place, and shot.

And he missed. By a lot. Wainwright could feel everyone's burning stare. He could almost hear them thinking how much of an easy shot it was, and wondering how someone could have failed. And especially, he could feel his father's disappointment digging into his skin like the sharpest of claws. He wasn't a stranger to that sensation, but he would never get used to it. Without looking back, he shot again, and missed. Monty let out a long sigh, and tried to cover his face behind his hand in a pitiful attempt to hide from the crowd. Wainwright closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He really needed to nail this next shot. He repositioned his feet, aimed, and pulled the trigger, only to hear the familiar clicking sound that reminded him that he had forgotten to recharge.

Shit. Just when he thought the situation couldn't get more humiliating.

Some chuckles could be heard among the crowd, which made Wainwright feel even worse, if possible. He was so nervous that he hadn't even taken into account that The Cure only had two slots in its magazine. He let out a deep sigh, and accepting the humiliation, he left the shooting area. There was no use in bothering to recharge and try again, he thought, he wouldn't hit any more targets and it would only make the situation worse. Wainwright tried to walk out of the situation with as much pride as the situation allowed him to. He tried to remind himself that knowing when to retire was a virtue, even if his father had always taught him that "giving up is for pussies". Actually, Montgomery Jakobs used to say that "giving up is for faggots", but good ol' Monty ended up changing it because he thought that his homosexual son would find the slur "pussy" to be less offensive. He didn't.

The Jakobs were known for not knowing how to pick their fights. They put defending their pride above everything else, which is why all of them had been shot at least a couple of times. Wainwright's aunt Agatha always liked to brag about how she didn't become a Jakobs when she got married, but when she was shot in the foot while fighting with a neighbour over whose spurs were shinier.

The rest of the afternoon went by terribly slow for Wainwright's taste, and the shooting game kept going until it was dark. Some people missed some shots, but no one like Wainwright. Then again, no other player made the mistake of bringing a shotgun with only two magazine slots either. Ludo's performance was truly outstanding, but nothing like Hammerlock's. He was the true star of the game, and some might say that Ludo didn't take it well. Which is why every time that Hammerlock earned a good score, Wainwright's sorrow was alleviated, even if it was just a little bit.