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His skin prickles as he wades into the frigid waters. He almost slips as his foot connects with the rocky bottom, catching himself before he can fall. The sound of the men had long faded behind him once he reached the river.
His lungs burn from running and the age old scar that stains his side throbs with each gasping breath. Andres stares at his reflection in the clear water. His face is stained with blood and grime. An open wound seeps blood down his forehead where he’d been hit.
Bile rises to his throat. He'd never been one for long stretches of running. The cotton of his shirt sticks uncontrollably to his body, slick with a mixture of sweat, blood, and now the cold water of the river.
Andres is faintly aware of the other wounds that decorate his skin. Blood swirls and mixes with white foam all around him. He pushes forward deeper into the river, shivers wracking his body for a moment.
He wills the urge to throw up down as he reaches the stretch of river shaded by low hanging branches. A knee buckles for a moment and he looks down. The adrenaline from the fight drowned out the burning sting of the large wound. Pink flesh ran down his thigh, framed by the ruined fabric of his pants.
Andres catches his breath as he takes in the extent of the injuries. Smaller cuts and bruises cover him where rocks cut him as he tumbled down the hill.
“Andres- shoot-!”
The water breaks with a splash. He whips around to be meet with the sight of Cassidy, the man not in a much better state, practically scrambling through the river towards him.
Cassidy looks the same, sounds the same as always. But there’s something distinctly wrong with him. His expression isn’t the one of anger he’d been expecting, rather its twisted into a look of pure fear. It's a thing Andres definitely knows he never wants to see again.
“Cassidy!” Andres winces as he hobbles closer. His leg threatens to give out underneath him but he pushes forward through the river’s currents.
Cassidy rushes forward to meet him in the middle. He reaches out for him and in an instant, his hands are on his face.
There’s definitely something wrong with the older man with the way he holds him. The Cassidy Andres has grown to know over the last year isn’t soft. Neither of them are. Their relationship is a constant pull of power, each of them constantly testing the limit between wrong and right.
Yet here Cassidy is; holding him like he’ll disappear if he lets go.
"Mierda, are you hurt-?” Andres grabs Cassidy’s face, his touch less gentle as he turns his head to the side in search for an injury. His hands tug at the grimy locks as he looks for the wound that must certainly be there.
The way Cassidy stares into his eyes sends a prickling wave of fear down his spine. “What?” He’s silent as he rocks them both. The river’s currents swirl around them both as they stand there.
The man is searching over Andres with a deft hand, shaking as he brushes over the bloodied fabric and skin. Cassidy leans in to rest his sweat slick forehead against Andres’ own. Warm breaths wash over his face and a thumb wipes away the blood running down his cheek.
“What?” Andres asks again, searching Cassidy’s face. “Cassie.” Silence. Then again, “Cassie, talk to me.”
Something akin to horror fills him as Cassidy sinks to his knees in the middle of the river. He wants to yell, to ask what the hell is going on as arms wrap around his waist with all the delicacy in the world. Its too soft coming from a man like Cassidy. Ragged breaths leave him as he presses his cheek against his stomach.
Gentle touches from either of them were saved for the silent moments in the night. Tangled in old sheets and bodies soaked with sweat was their confessional of all the soft things hidden away. The soft feel of Cassidy’s lips against him was something only felt in the dark, the moon as their only witness.
“You were gone, Andres.”
And he wants to cry at the sound.
Cassidy’s hands clutch and dig into the back of Andres’ shirt. “I turned around once everything’ was done and you weren’t there.”
Oh. That’s what this is about.
Andres stares dumbfounded at the man who clings to him like a dying man, uncaring of the water soaking him from the waist down.
“I saw him shoot you,” Cassidy pulled him closer. “I saw you fall and then you just disappeared.” The shaking in his hands is evident as they clutch him.
He feels the dampness of his tears before his brain comprehends them. The sight of Cassidy’s golden hair mused and pressed against his stomach will be burned into his memory. Something to replace the memories of his harm, or maybe his brain will give him a mix of the two.
Andres wraps his arms around Cassidy’s head. His hair is a familiar texture yet now its alien against him. The man below him clings to him harder like he’s trying to dig into his back.
“I’m here.” His voice comes weakly from his throat. He isn’t even sure Cassidy can hear it over the rush of the river. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of me like that, Cassie.” He chuckles and holds Cassidy tighter to him.
He wants to cry himself, watching Cassidy fall apart under him. He'd spent so long trying to coax the man into showing anything other than a few rue grins here and there that the sudden influx of care brings warm tears to his eyes.
Soft tears run down his cheeks and mix with the dirt and grime. He sniffs and runs a hand through Cassidy’s hair. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of me.” He repeats fiercely. Andres feels Cassidy’s grasp soften, his words convincing to him.
“You better mean that,” Cassidy’s voice breaks despite the harsh laugh he forced. “M'Not ready to let go of this just yet.” He rests his forehead against Andres’ stomach, delicate tears clinging to his eyelashes.
Distant voices carry down the hill to them. Andres turns his face up to feel the first few rays of the sunset. “C’mon,” He urges, releasing the man’s head to instead grab his hands. “We can lose them fast.”
He helps Cassidy to his feet, the both of them almost falling back into the river. Cassidy says nothing as he wraps his arms around his waist and just holds him for a moment.
He grabs a hold of the other man’s hand once he’s done, pulling him along. Water soaked through both their clothes, only making the walk harder. Andres steps first onto the opposite bank with Cassidy still held tightly in his grasp.
The voices come again. They’re louder, words distinct even over the river. Hand in hand, they move faster away from the bank. Blood still flows from his forehead down his face to be wiped away before it can blur his vision.
He doesn’t dare break the silence between them. He feels if he does, Cassidy will go back to how he’s always been. The selfish part of him will cling to this moment once he does.
Cassidy’s hand in his feels like the heaven he’s long since been cast out of. Andres commits each wrinkle, every imperfection to memory. Even if he never gets to hold him again, he’ll hold ghost of him in his dreams.
The horse is still where they left her tied up before everything went had wrong. Andres pulls himself up first, mourning selfishly as he releases Cassidy’s hand. The man presses against his back as he hauls himself up behind him.
Andres savors the feel of the man behind him as they start off. Bloodied and bruised yet he wouldn’t take him any other way. He turns to watch the endless sky above them. He locks eyes with tired ones and something occurs to him.
He thinks he’s in love.