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Jimmy was dying.
He knew he was. It was fine. He’d done what he needed to do. If this was how he died, protecting Tumble Town and paying for the sins he had committed in the process, so be it. This was his fate. This was what he deserved. (Honestly, it was a long time coming. If it weren’t for the fact he had tried to make up for it, he had tried his best to escape his past, he had only sealed his fate from the look of it. He was going to die how he lived, with a gun in his hands and blood coating his fingers. But, if that was how it ended, if he died protecting his people, so be it.)
Head falling back, he panted for breath. Felt his chest rising and falling in a jittery, uneven motion. Coughing, coppery blood coating his lips, Jimmy closed his eyes. Let out a sigh. This is alright, he mused, thinking of what would happen next. He had had the older men in the town take the rest of the citizens to the mines, had them all hide away. Eventually, he was meant to go and get them. This wasn’t what was going to happen. Instead, he was going to die there, leaning against the outside wall of the prison building. They would realize he wasn’t coming back eventually. Then, they would come, they would find him there. He would be buried in the graveyard by the church, hopefully. Depended on whether or not they figured out his past. Whether or not they thought he had changed. He had written down an explanation in his will, a description of everything he had done.
Someone who had done what he had would never go to Heaven. He had too much blood on his hands. Too much red in his ledger. Too many kills notching his belt and too many scars on his body that came from a reckless teenage life that continued until he was twenty-three. It had only been three years since then, since he had walked away from a full decade of his chaos and that darkness that had settled in his heart. Now he was dying.
Maybe, in the end, his death would pay for what he had done in life.
Blinking, Jimmy twitched his fingers. Gasped in a slow breath. He could picture the men coming to find him now. Slumped against the wall of the prison. Surrounded by the bodies of dead bandits. Or, they would be dead by then. For now, most of them were dead. The ones that weren’t were barely any better off than he was, close to death as well. In the next hour, they would be gone. All of them would be in the embrace of death. Including him.
Now that he thought about it, there were things Jimmy would have liked to have done one more time. Run his hands along Deputy Norman’s fur. Brushed his hands along the long strands of wheat growing in the terrace fields they had made. Walked through the savannah one more time, visited that old village he had been to once upon a time to talk to. To enjoy spending time with his people one more time. Maybe, just maybe, sitting with Scott on the edge of the mesa, looking out over the rivers as they scrawled their way across the painted terracotta landscape, with the silvery moonlight shining down on them. He wanted to ride again, one more time. Gallop at full speed, his horse’s mane brushing his cheeks and nose as the wind played with his hair and clothes and threatened to rip his hat from his head. Maybe spend some time riding along at sunset, helping the other men guide the cattle to the proper fields for the winter. He wanted to hear his friend playing guitar again. Wanted to see the beautiful caves that Fwhip lived in, wanted to visit Gem one more time and see what she had done with the place since taking over as ruler.
He wanted to kneel in the flowers again, bury his fingers in the soft soil of a garden and plant seeds. Wanted to make some more life to replace the ones he had taken year after year.
He would die here, and that was okay.
Suddenly, somewhere, he heard footsteps. They got quicker. Someone spoke to him. Called his name. Blinking, Jimmy opened his eyes. Looked up. Scott, Fwhip, and Joel were coming over, Joel at a lackadaisical pace compared to Scott and Fwhip’s harried runs. Their eyes were wide. Joel didn’t seem impressed. Beyond him, the sky was a lovely azure blue, dotted with puffy white clouds against the pretty orange and cream and brown of the mesa terracotta. Shaking, Jimmy inhaled again. Blinked and fell to the side slightly. Scott reached his side, Fwhip crouched beside him. Joel stood off to the side, looking out across the town.
“Where is everyone?” Joel asked casually. Blinking, Jimmy sucked in a breath. It rattled in his chest, wet and weak. His ribs were broken. There were bullets in his ribs, he had been all shot up and wounded. That was okay. This was his payment. This was what he would pay for the crimes he had committed.
“Mines.” Jimmy forced out weakly. Coughed. More copper flooded his mouth, and he blinked. Shook once. His head fell to the side, and Scott caught him. Steadied him against the wall. Then, he cupped Jimmy’s face. Smoothed a thumb over Jimmy’s cheek, wiped some of the blood away from his skin. “Told ‘em to leave. Wanted to—” He took a slow breath. Coughed. “To protect them.”
“Mhmm, well you did a great job of that.” Joel mused, gesturing to the men lying dead around them. “Thought you didn’t like letting people die.”
“Not my people.” Jimmy rasped out. Coughed again. More blood painted his lips. Worry crossed Scott’s face, he turned to look at Fwhip. The goblin was hurriedly looking through his satchel, trying to find something. A potion, probably. Reaching out, Jimmy dropped his shaky hand over Fwhip’s wrist. Their gazes met, Fwhip’s expression pinched with worry. Smiling at him, Jimmy coughed. “It’s okay. I’m going to be fine.” He blinked. Inhaled slowly and then dropped his head to the side.
“Jimmy. Jimmy, no. Stay with me.” Scott told him. Blinking, Jimmy slowly raised his head. Coughed and then shuddered again. Slowly, he inhaled again. It shuddered in his chest. It—everything hurt.
“Scott, please. Just—I’m okay with this.” He mumbled. His eyes flicked past Joel for a moment. The man scoffed. Eyes narrowing, Jimmy grabbed his gun. Shoved himself up with the last of his strength and aimed. Then, he pulled the trigger.
The bullet shot by Joel’s head, didn’t even nick his ear.
Everyone flinched. Then, Joel turned to him. His eyes glowed with fury, he opened his mouth. Then, there was a thump as the man who had been on the roof fell to the ground, breaking his neck as he went. He would have been dead anyways. Jimmy shot him in the head. Wheeling around, Joel stared at the man where he lay on the dirt main street.
Dropping back against the wall, Jimmy let out a sigh. Coughed weakly. “Hold on, Jimmy. Please. You can’t just leave us like this.” Fwhip urgently whispered. Reaching up, he brushed a hand through Jimmy’s hair. Blinking, Jimmy shuddered. Started falling to the side. The gun fell from his lap, his hand thunked against the wall behind him. Quickly, Scott caught him. Cupped his neck.
“Jimmy? Jimmy, come on.” Shaking, Jimmy inhaled again. Felt his head drop back some more. He just—he couldn’t do anything. He just couldn’t move, and honestly at this point letting his head fall into Scott’s palm just sounded nice. Besides, his hands were warm, and Jimmy was freezing. His shoulder hurt.
“’M fine.” He mumbled. “Just gotta…I just gotta rest. That’s all…” He mumbled. Dimly, he could hear Scott and Fwhip begging him to stay conscious.
He could rest for a little bit…
+++
Jimmy’s body slumped into Scott’s arms, and Scott caught him.
Then, he cradled Jimmy closer. “Jimmy? Jimmy, come on. Open your eyes. Please.” He whispered, shaking Jimmy. Looking over, he said, “Joel, do you have any potions? Please.” He was going to beg at this point. He would, if he had to. Right then, Jimmy mattered more than pride did.
Sighing, Joel rolled his eyes. Walked over. “Fine, fine.” He reached into his own pockets. Then, in Scott’s arms, Jimmy stiffened. All of them froze. Looked down at him.
Eyes snapping open, Jimmy gasped. His eyes had changed, the pupils had turned bright turquoise while his irises were bright brown and gold. Blinking, he tipped his head to the side. Inhaled slowly. Then, he pushed himself up. Scott let him go, held up his hands. Blood coated his fingers. “Jimmy?” He asked weakly. Blinking some more, Jimmy looked to him.
Then, he smiled softly. Spoke in a voice that wasn’t his own. It sounded…doubled, somehow, echoey and unnatural. “This one fought well. We will not take him from you today.”
Joel let out a soft scoff. “Drama queen.”
Jimmy’s head snapped to him, eyes narrowed all of a sudden. Fury passed over his face, and he spoke coldly. As he spoke, Scott’s heart fell all of a sudden, “You will not be so lucky if we find you in our grasp, would-be king. You will receive no such grace.” Joel’s face dropped. Then, as soon as he had finished the sentence, Jimmy’s eyes stopped glowing. His eyes returned to their normal brown, and then rolled back in his head. Reaching over, Scott caught him. Looked down at the wounds on his body as they quickly healed up, glowing brown and gold and then turquoise in turn.
“Let’s get him home.” Fwhip said. Nodding, Scott slid his hands under Jimmy’s arms. Fwhip took his ankles.
“Well, at least we know he’s not a toy.” Joel mocked. Scowling at him, Scott inhaled slowly. Let out a breath.
“Joel, if you keep making jokes while he’s lying near-dead in my arms, I am going to tell every single person on this server to destroy your kingdom. I will burn it to the earth it stands on if I must.” He declared sharply. Blinking, Joel leered away. Then, Scott turned to Fwhip. “Come on, sweetheart. We need to get him some care.”
Nodding, Fwhip helped Scott hurry him to his home, then his bed.
Fwhip then left, thankfully dragging Joel along with him. If he was being honest, if Scott had to stare at his face any longer, he was going to figure out how to slaughter the man. Joel, not Fwhip. Joel was no god. He was a man, he was nothing more. Whatever he said, and if he thought otherwise then Scott would find the mythical “god-killing” weapons he needed and slaughter him until he did not come back.
Scott was a patient man. He didn’t anger easily. But when he did anger, that was…it was never good.
On the bed, Jimmy groaned. Scott reached out. Touched his forehead. Inhaling, he winced. You’re going to be sick. Well, then, I’ll be here. I’ll take care of you, because I didn’t do it before, for some reason, the words felt like they meant more than he even knew. Sighing, Scott smiled, looked over his face. “You’re okay, Jimmy. I promise.”
Groaning again, Jimmy shifted. Turned his head to the side. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Scott through bleary eyes. Reaching out, he took Scott’s hand in his. Pressed something to his palm. A little blue flower. Blinking, frowning, Scott glanced at him. “This feels right.” He mumbled. Clutched Scott’s hands as best as he could.
Then, before Scott could ask for any sort of explanation, his eyes fluttered shut, and Jimmy was out.