Chapter Text
River Cartwright was going to accomplish what countless KGB operatives, years of alcohol abuse, more cigarettes than grains of sand at the beach, and Diana Taverner couldn’t; he was going to send Jackson Lamb to his death.
Whether it was figurative or literal remained to be seen.
The woods they trudged through were quiet, the dense silence only broken by River’s laboured breathing and Lamb’s muffled curses. Lamb shuffled along a step ahead of River, half-dragging him along behind him. The sun was falling lower and lower behind the horizon, casting longer and longer shadows over every tree. Lamb didn’t know how much time they had, but one thing was certain, they were running out of daylight to get to the rendezvous point.
“Jesus Christ, Cartwright, we’re not out for a hike. Pick up the fucking pace,” Lamb muttered, his hand clenched tightly around River’s arm to keep him upright.
His grasp would leave bruises. Lamb couldn’t bring himself to care.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” the kid ground out between a tense jaw.
And to be fair, maybe River was.
River wasn’t trying to hold them up, the bullet wound in his leg was doing the work for them that way. Blood trickled down one side of his face and there was a red mark on his cheek that would turn into an impressive bruise if given the time. If they didn’t die in these fucking woods. Lamb, for his part, hadn’t made it to this point unscathed. Blood matted his hair and waves of agony flowed through his head with each step in what he knew was likely a concussion but what he told himself wasn’t any worse than a normal hangover on a Tuesday for him.
Getting the blood from his hair was going to be a bitch though. And the collar of his coat was stained red. He grumbled at the thought; it was his favourite coat. River faltered over a root, or maybe his own fucking feet and he almost went down again, saved only by Lamb’s iron grip. Jackson pulled him along, stopping for half a second so River could catch his breath.
“Lamb,” River panted.
“Come on, Cartwright. You’re slower than two turles fucking,” Lamb muttered, voice dripping with disdain.
River forced himself upright, gritting his teeth. “And you’re as charming as always.”
Lamb ignored him and kept walking. River stumbled, clutching a tree to stay upright.
“I just–”
“Shut up,” Lamb said, straining to hear over the pounding in his head.
Their purseors wouldn’t be far off. Lamb had done his best to try and cover their tracks but he spent more time than he would have liked encouraging River along and the blood from his bullet wound wasn’t exactly camoflaging into the forest floor.
Satisfied they still had some time, Lamb motioned for River to follow him. They hadn’t made it very far when River grabbed Lamb’s forearm in a desperate grip, pain etched across his sweaty face as he sunk to his knees.
“Please, I just–”
“Who said you could fucking rest, Cartwright?” Lamb asked as he dragged River to stand.
“Just for a minute,” River managed, his voice strained and barely more than a whisper.
The kid was pale, too fucking pale for Lamb’s liking, but they didn’t have a choice. Options had gone out the window when that bullet tore through River’s thigh.
“Come on,” Lamb muttered, pulling his reluctant charge along.
River staggered, his injured leg finally buckling. He sank to his knees with a muffled grunt, exhaustion overtaking him. For a moment, Lamb watched as he slumped against the damp forest floor, struggling to catch his breath.
But Lamb didn’t have a moment’s patience for rest. Not now. Not when the people who tried to kill them wouldn’t be resting. Lamb grabbed River by the collar and gave him a rough tug.
“DId I say you could rest?” he barked again, eyes narrowing as he scanned the trees around them. He could practically feel the enemy closing in, their footsteps like ghosts moving between the trees.
“Can’t you just… let me bleed in peace?” River wheezed, grimacing as Lamb hoisted him up again.
“Look, if you’re going to die, at least have the decency to do it when we’re clear of this mess,” Lamb muttered, dragging River along.
“Just go,” River said, weakly trying to push Lamb along. “Leave me. I can distract them. I’m only slowing you down.”
Lamb wanted to laugh his attempt was so pathetic. If he didn’t think it would send an agonizing wave of pain through his head then Jackson would have rolled his eyes.
“Not happening, Cartwright. We’re getting out of here together. I’ll never hear the end of it from Guy or Standish if I leave you to die.”
River managed a faint, pained smile. “Knew you cared, Lamb.”
“Yeah don’t let it go to your head,” Jackson said, pulling River down a path he hoped offered better camouflage to their route. “Besides I promised Taverner I’d let her have first shot if I was going to let someone kill you.”
“That sounds about right,” River mumbled.
Lamb didn’t know how long they staggered on in silence after that, the only sounds River’s pained groans or ragged breathing. It was almost fully dark now and Lamb was grateful for the waning light if only for it’s ability to hide the concerned looks he kept giving River. This kid really was going to be the death of him and if they made it out of this he might kill Cartwright himself.
But they were almost there, Lamb knew it, if he could just keep River going they could get some help, somewhere with cell service and hopefully his slow horses weren’t being as useless as they usually were and could get an armed response to them in time.
River stumbled again, hitting the ground in a way that had Lamb wincing in sympathy for the gunshot wound in his thigh. The haphazard bandage he wrapped around River’s leg earlier had slowed some of the bleeding but it was getting to a point where Lamb would have to decide between slowing the bloodflow more with a tourniquet or having River be able to limp through the woods.
“Please,” he begged and if Lamb still had a heart it surely would’ve felt something for the kid.
“You can rest when you’re dead, which you will be soon if we don’t keep fucking moving. Cartwright–up! Now! That’s a fucking order.”
Lamb pulled him to stand, wrapping an arm around River’s waist who gritted his teeth and pushed on as best he could. If Lamb had to drag the kid along then he would. He wasn’t losing someone else.
He wasn’t about to lose River.
Not today.