[[ milliways ]]

[almosthonorable]

[ two weeks prior, or, once upon a time in El Paso ]

Ben's coated in sweat and grime from a fourteen-hour day when he walks into the bar.

Just across the threshold, he pauses.

This is ...

Well.

It's certainly more surreal than usual.

Stepping over and around debris — and taking care to avoid knocking into see-through patrons — Ben picks his way across the bar proper. Amid the general mayhem, a tinny, crackling song plays from what has to be a phonograph, maybe hidden somewhere in the rafters.

"Now that is unsettlin'," Ben mutters to himself.

As if on an eerie-ass cue, the floor tilts beneath his boots.

He grunts, and catches his balance with the help of a nearby stool. Righting himself, he notices the glowing red gem hovering over the counter.

"All right, you've got me," he says to Bar. "Color me curious."

A moment later, his battered brown hat is gone, and he's sporting a rough-hewed pair of decidedly feline ears.

He holds back a sigh.

"That is what killed the cat, as the sayin' goes."

Comments

[almosthonorable]

A pause.

"Well, shit."

He casts less than hopeful eyes toward the counter.

"Miss Bar?"

[lasthalfmile]

For a long moment, there is silence - an unnerving silence, given the crimson glow that is being cast over them by the crystal hovering above.

And then a bag of carrots appears.

Followed by a bag of apples.

And a bag of oranges.

"Bar--"

A bowl of dragonfruit.

Then a box of pears.


"...I don't think she's gonna be much help."

Dammit.

Then an idea hits.

"But we could go look in the stables. If Les is there, then he's here."

And if the horse isn't...then he's not. Or he's here without the horse - but that's worth a bit of investigation.

[almosthonorable]

With a nod, Ben stands.

He pockets an apple, in case they do find Les in the stables, and leads the way toward the back door —






— which is, it would appear, rotting on its hinges.

"I'd crack wise about locusts and frogs, but I'm half-sure they'd manifest."

[lasthalfmile]

"Let's not press our luck."

When the door creaks open with an ungodly sound that grates against the very core of his somewhat-existant soul, Dan shivers.

And then the frigid blast of air hits, and he's wishing he had his wool hat and scarf.

[almosthonorable]

Ben puts a shoulder into the wind, swallowing a curse as the sweat slicking his skin turns to ice water.

He'd take a night in the desert in a heartbeat over this bone-snapping cold and bloodied, end-of-days sky.

"Couldn't ask for nicer weather," he says, trudging toward the stables.

[lasthalfmile]

"It's awful pleasant, ain't it," Dan grits out.

The cold never bothered him before - an advantage to being dead, he supposes - but this is different. This is wrong and it cuts like a knife jammed between his ribs.

or lead buried in his chest



He ducks his head and keeps walking a line beside Ben, praying that William's horse isn't going to be found.

[almosthonorable]

Ben chuckles, low and dry, the sub-zero air burning deep in his chest.

When they reach the stables, they're greeted by shrill whinnies and nervous whickers; Ben wraps his stiff fingers around that apple in his coat pocket, and clucks his tongue.

"Easy there, boys and girls," he says, as pleasant as a breezy summer afternoon.

[lasthalfmile]

Dan can see evidence that someone has been working - the stables are practically spotless. The tension in the air is almost tangible, but Dan follows Ben inside, closing the door behind them.

"I heard that there was an earthquake, too," he mentions.

[almosthonorable]

"Somebody must've gotten on the Landlord's bad side," he says, keeping his tone smooth and even for the sake of the horses.

"But this place looks sharp — bet you the stable master's been out here, puttin' it to rights."

[lasthalfmile]

He moves along the row, approaching the stall where William usually keeps Les stabled - praying to himself that the animal isn't there.

It isn't.

Dan exhales a sigh of relief.

(Even the dead can thank the Lord for small miracles.)

[almosthonorable]

Ben takes note of the occupied and empty stalls, thinking of Gabriel, safe at the livery in El Paso.

"He's probably at the ranch, Dan. Showin' off for Mark, teachin' him to rope and hogtie."

[lasthalfmile]

"Or gettin' into fights at the schoolhouse."

Dan idly scratches at his beard, moving to the stall where Phoenix is attempting to rest - the mare tosses her head at the sight of Dan, obviously irritated.

[almosthonorable]

"Probably sassin', to boot."

Ben produces the apple from his pocket, and offers it to Dan.

Looking at Phoenix: "Why, hello, pretty girl."

[lasthalfmile]

Phoenix takes one look at Ben Wade and wrinkles her nose up, flattening her ears.

"...seems she's in a Mood today," Dan comments.

[almosthonorable]

"So much for my charm," Ben says, taking a respectful step backward.

[lasthalfmile]

"Don't take it personally."

Dan reaches to his hip to grab his knife - with a few quick cuts and the apple is in pieces, and he hands a bite over to the mare.

"Where are you, out in your world?"

[almosthonorable]

"El Paso," he says. "Been stayin' at the Acme. It's not the bridal suite we had in Contention, but it'll do."

A beat.

"And the sky ain't the color of wrath, so there's that."

[lasthalfmile]

"I'd have t'bring Bogart," he says.

[almosthonorable]

"All right — pack up the bacon ball."

He tips his head toward Phoenix.

"What about her?"

[lasthalfmile]

"...would it work, walkin' her out your door?"

If they're gonna be gone for any stretch of time, or travel anywhere, he could use the horse. But if he's only got a few days...what would the point be, aside from getting her out?

"I mean...if we can't get me back, s'just gonna mean you've got another horse t'deal with."

[almosthonorable]

Ben's jaw sets.

"It'll work just fine. We'll get both of you back here, end times or no."

Dan wasn't resurrected — so to speak — just to crumble to dust thanks to an apocalyptic goddamn hiccup at the end of the universe.

[lasthalfmile]

"If not, you just take the horse out t'the ranch for me. They could put her to good use."

He moves for the tack room.

"I left Bogart upstairs, but we can get her situated first 'fore we get him."

[almosthonorable]

"All right."

Ben pulls a small, worn notebook from his pocket, and steps toward Doc's desk in search of a writing utensil.

"I'm gonna leave a note for Doc out here — if he's around, I bet he'll be checkin' in on the stock every chance he gets."

He lifts a pen from a pencil cup, and starts scribbling while he speaks.

"I'll ask him to keep an eye out for Les and William, let William know you left with me."

[lasthalfmile]

"Good idea," Dan says, as he moves with an armful of tack towards Phoenix's stall. "I've seen him around in the bar a few times, mostly comin' and going. He'll be more likely to get it if you leave it here...who knows where Bar might lose it to."



Once the horse is saddled and loaded up with an extra two days worth of grain, they head back for the bar.



"I figure we can tie her out to the porch for a minute or two - it won't take me long t'run upstairs."

[almosthonorable]

"Oh, Dan, you're just askin' for a tasteless joke about your bum leg with that one."

[lasthalfmile]

The smirk that crosses Dan's face is glorious in nature.

"Actually," he reaches to his knee, pulling up his pant-leg to expose the futuristic prosthetic that has replaced the wood and iron that used to grace his leg-stump. "The boy got me a mighty fine Christmas present last year."

[almosthonorable]

Ben whistles, low and appreciative.

"Well, now I am truly sorry for gettin' smart. That's ... hell, that's nice."

[lasthalfmile]

"S'some sort of cast metal that's a helluva lot lighter than the old one used t'be. S'easier t'git 'round with this one."

His fingers are practically ice as he tries to tie the reins of the horse to the porch railing.

[almosthonorable]

Ben reaches out, offering to tie the reins.

"Here, I got this — I'll sweet-talk her while you go fetch Bogart."

Phoenix snorts, and Ben can't help but chortle.

"You do like me, you little spitfire."

[lasthalfmile]

"I'll be back in just a minute."

And with that Dan heads into the bar to navigate his way through the disaster upstairs.

[almosthonorable]

Forty-five seconds after Dan heads inside, Ben takes a slow step backward, well clear of Phoenix's bared teeth.

"Now," he says, with some measure of authority, "you're just bein' ornery for the sake of surliness."

[lasthalfmile]

Phoenix feels like she has every right to be surly - between the massive explosion, the fear on the air, the bitter cold, the changes in the atmosphere and the fact that everyone else in the stables has been just as pissy - so Ben Wade had better recognize that fact and step off.

So there.



Dan returns with a bag slung over his shoulder (inside are a few small items he couldn't stand to leave behind, as well as a solid amount of cash - he'd had the treasure from the dwarven mines converted into familiar currency months ago) and he's holding his rifle in one hand, and a leash in the other.

Said leash leads to an apparently empty harness.



"He's there," he promises, looking at the horse, and then back at Ben. "Maybe...maybe you should walk him, and I'll take her."

It may end better for everyone.

[almosthonorable]

Ben tilts his head, studying the space that Bogart should be occupying.

"You sure you've been feedin' him?" he asks, taking the leash. "Because from the looks of it, he's wasted away."

[lasthalfmile]

"He eats better than I do," Dan protests.

There is a phantom grunt-oink from below at the mention of food. Bogart is present and accounted for, indeed.



And with everyone ready, they head into the Bar. It takes every ounce of Dan's calm to keep Phoenix from spooking horrendously; Ben has to urge Bogart to move his bacon ball ass at least six times.

(Wade feels like a fool, talking to an invisible pig on a string, but if it means they get the hell out of here before that Window shatters, then a fool he'll be and gladly.)

Ben's door works, and without further fanfare - unlike the Loompa parade moments earlier - they're gone.