etceteras | this night ain't for the faint of heart;

this night ain't for the faint of heart;

[ The instant he and Alec return to Anne's ranch, they're greeted with grateful tears and words of gratitude, as Anne embraces her sleeping daughter. Once the girl is safely put to bed, Anne surprises Faraday by wrapping Alec and Faraday each with rib-breaking hugs before she ushers Alec off for some doctoring. Anne's daughter, May, wakes at some point, offers to heal Alec the rest of the way, but her mother bats her hands away.

"She can't do too much at once," Anne explains while she dresses Alec's wounds. "Makes her sick if she tries."

So they stick around while Alec heals – which is just as well, considering the wizard had collapsed nearly the second Anne had taken his weight. Despite his earlier protests, Faraday had obligingly ducked under Alec's other arm, though he grumbled about the new chore. Accused the bastard of being a whole lot heavier than he looked. The man can hardly move that night or the next day, and Faraday feels a bitter little twist in his chest.

(If Faraday were in the habit of being more honest with himself, he'd recognize the feeling as concern, as worry. Strange, feeling that for anyone but himself.)

Not that Faraday gives himself much time to examine that strange feeling, setting to the bottles as he does. Their last stop into a town had refreshed his stores, so to speak, and he takes up station in a corner and tossing back whiskey like his life depended on it. (Maybe not his life, he admits; his sanity, though, is another matter entirely.) He's a charming drunk, at the very least, the alcohol making him boisterous and talkative – better than brooding over the reality of what Alec had told him, of what he is and isn't.

Faraday spends the next several days helping around the ranch – it's a familiar song and dance, and it reminds him of the early days of when he had first trekked out this far west. Before he found more money in cards, before he discovered the strange, shadowy curl just behind his heart – his magic, he supposes. His gift, though Faraday winces at the term, now. He's not obligated to assist, but he does it anyway. It helps to keep his mind off things.

(Because he's not sure if he was better off knowing or not knowing about the existence of magic, about creatures far removed from the natural order of things. He's not sure if he preferred thinking about his ability as some odd quirk of his – painful and abnormal and deeply terrifying, the longer he thinks on it – or if he prefers knowing it came from some deep pool of magic, something that had warped him and changed him. Made him some kind of abomination.

He wonders if the only difference between him and that wraith is that he's still got a heartbeat, for however much longer that might last. )

A few of those days, he wanders back into the nearby town. The first time, he borrows a shirt from Alec and purchases himself new clothing, replacing his bloodied shirt and vest. With a frown, he buys a second set – because for as often as Alec tells him, "Don't die," it's been a uniquely difficult direction to follow. On at least one occasion, he had availed himself of what they generously called their saloon, padded his funds with a few rounds of cards; he doesn't even have to cheat, considering how clearly the men wear their tells on their sleeves. He is gracious about it, though, offers them a conciliatory round of drinks for mopping the floor with them. It seems to do the trick of endearing him to the other men, and the other times he has occasion to ride back into town, they greet him with smiles, not guns.

Today, Anne had sent him to town to purchase some supplies, and with the task done, Faraday wanders back into the saloon. No guns, once again, but no smiles, either, and Faraday is instantly on edge. He slides up to the bar, asks the barkeep in a low voice, "Who the hell died?"

The barman, some weathered old man with a shock of white hair and a beard to match, huffs out a humorless little laugh. "Had a bounty hunter come through, a Wyatt Garrison. Slimy son of a bitch." His smile fades, and he looks pointedly at Faraday, expression solemn. "Was lookin' for a couple'a' men. One of 'em was dark-haired. Lightnin' thrower. The other... well. Sounded an awful lot like you, son."

To his credit, even as something clenches in his gut, Faraday snorts out a laugh, as if that's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. His expression becomes curious rather than wary, and some of the tension drains from the barkeep's shoulders. Fooled by the act, then. Faraday asks, "What'd they do?"

The barkeep shrugs. "Same as anyone does. Killed the wrong folks. $300 for one, $250 for the other. Dead or alive"

Faraday almost wants to ask which is which, but he can figure it out for himself. (A small kick to his pride, but he'll live.) "Ballsy son of a bitch, goin' against a lightning thrower. Good luck to him."

"Said he don't need luck," the barkeep says grimly. His gaze flicks over to the bat wing doors, and though Faraday doesn't turn, he can see movement outside from the corner of his eye as someone meanders down the street. Faraday sucks in a sharp breath and presses his hand to his chest, abruptly struck by the sensation that something is missing, like sitting in a room and realizing all the noise had disappeared. He focuses, and— yes, that shadowy flicker still curls in his chest, but it's muted, somehow. Grown distant and barely there.

Faraday lifts his head, and dread plummets in his stomach like a stone.

He takes his time leaving, at least, takes his time retrieving Jack from where he's tethered in front of a watering trough. Even takes his time trotting out of town – but the instant he's far enough, he urges Jack into a gallop. He makes it back to the ranch in near record time, and when he's near enough to the house, he starts shouting: ]

Alec! We've gotta go.

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[ In all honesty, Alec sort of stops paying attention once they get back to the ranch. He lets his Enhancements go, and all but collapses under his own weight. Blood loss and exhaustion sure are things, and he’s down for a good couple of days.

Anne brings him meals in those first couple of days, and once she makes an offhand remark about Faraday: “Your friend’s been a big help around the place.” Alec doesn’t notice the absence of the kneejerk reaction to correct her. To glare are her and clarify “he’s not my friend”. Could be the exhaustion, but for one reason or another, he lets the remark pass with little more than an acknowledging murmur around spoonfuls of soup.

By the time he’s feeling well enough to be up and around, if a little stiff and sore, he makes it a point to pull Faraday aside and explain to him just how dire it is that absolutely no one learns about May’s abilities. Not that Faraday has a whole lot of people to tell, but for Alec’s peace of mind as well as Anne’s, he lays it out anyway.

The gashes on his shoulders still give him trouble, throbbing and occasionally bleeding through the bandages when he moves just right and tears something open, but Anne assures him that in another day or two, May should be well enough to heal him without any adverse effects. Alec isn’t one to turn down healing from an actual healer, so sticking around doesn’t seem quite so bad, but the state of him leaves that Faraday to do all the running around.

Anne’s in the middle of redressing his wounds when Faraday comes galloping up, and his shouts cause Alec to pull away from the woman with his bandages only half done. He appears on the porch of the house, Anne and her daughter trailing after him. ]

Why? What’s going on?

Bounty hunter.

[ He dismounts even before Jack comes to a full stop before the house, lets him trot over to a watering trough while Faraday hurries toward the porch. ]

Showed up in town. Been askin’ after us. [ Then, with a bitter little twist of a smile, ] Seems like someone didn’t appreciate the way we took care of business back in Darwin.

[ Faraday hops up the steps, agitation following him like a storm cloud. He’s not a coward by any means, more than happy to confront any challenge that comes his way – and even some that don’t, considering how competitive he tends to be. But it helped knowing that if things went wrong, he at least had something to fall back on – assuming his ability was in the mood to catch him. It hasn’t stopped yet, but Faraday knows better than to rely on it.

This, though, realizing someone could force his trump card out of his reach, strikes a sort of fear in him that he hasn’t since he was young and green.

Faraday’s heard of folks whose abilities stopped other abilities – sometimes with a touch, sometimes with their mere presence – but they were rare, these days. Casualties of the war, he supposes, sent out on the front lines to even the battlefield. Never met one in person, though, and he doesn’t intend to. ]

Bastard’s a Blocker. [ And maybe he should be more shamefaced, swearing in front of two ladies, but he’s in a foul mood. ] Blindspot. Void. Whatever the hell you wanna call it, he’s it.

[ And maybe that man’s gift doesn’t work on wizards, but it sure as hell worked on Faraday. ]

Christ.

[ He breathes it out. He expected to be in Colorado before this mess caught up to them, but the whole business with the wraith definitely set them back. He wouldn’t doubt that the mine owner and his son left behind a family member to speed things up with vengeful promises of money.

Alec’s never run across anyone who had the ability to block another’s powers, be they gifted or wizard, so he has no idea how his own magic would even react. He’s not keen on finding out. ]

Did you see him? Were you followed?

Didn’t see him. Felt him, though.

[ Unconsciously, his fingertips press against his sternum, face darkening with a scowl, and he remembers that feeling, like some invisible wall had been put between him and that dark coil in his chest.

He makes a scoffing noise, as he moves past the three of them into the house, intent on gathering their things. ]

I was careful, thank you very much. [ A touch defensively. Admittedly, the words sit at odds with his usual penchant for recklessness, but Faraday is cautious when it counts. ] Waited a while for him to pass. Took my time leaving. I wasn’t born yesterday, Alec.

Don’t mean the folks in town didn’t overshare. Even if a man held a torch over everything they held dear and told ‘em to lie, those hicks couldn’t claim the sky was green without breakin’ out in a cold sweat.

[ He pauses, glances over his shoulder at Anne and May, and his lips press into a thin line. Then, without conviction, ] Bless their hearts.

[ That explanation just begs all sorts of questions, not least of which is what do you mean “felt” him? Then again, Alec imagines that the absence of his own magic would probably leave him a little… incomplete, so perhaps this is the same.

He follows Faraday into the house, May traveling in his wake. Anne remains on the porch for a few moments longer, beckoning one of the local birds forth and asking it to play lookout. She follows a short second later, just as Alec is casting Faraday a sour look. ]

I wasn’t asking to be an asshole.

[ Apparently Alec has no such trouble swearing in front of the women, and neither of them seems too bothered. They know him well enough by now that his penchant for foul language is hardly a surprise. ]

Get everything together, I’ll finish getting patched up and we can go.

[ He's already assembling his things when Alec gives his direction, and he snorts derisively. ]

What do you think I'm doin'?

[ He pauses as folding his clothes up, catches Anne's eye and nods toward the door. ]

Things I bought for you are in Jack's saddlebag. [ Anne's about the only other person on the ranch who can handle the horse, aside from Faraday. After that, he catches Alec's eye, frowning at him, as he shoves his things into a bag. ]

You gonna be alright to ride?

[ Anne motions May towards Alec's bandages while she quickly zips outside to collect her things from Faraday's horse. May does her best to be gentle, but Alec's wounds ache something fierce with the tension that's settled into his shoulders. ]

If by "ride", you mean head back around the barn and take a portal to Colorado, then sure. I can find a doctor in Leadville and we can worry about getting to Matthias after that.

[ His frown deepens at that, eyes flicking back toward the front of the house. ]

We ain't takin' the horses?

We are. Just not a whole lot of riding between here and the barn.

[ He huffs out a breath, a little relieved despite the situation.

Wandering as he does means Faraday has little in the way of stuff, which makes leaving in a hurry relatively easy. The same can be said of Alec, and Faraday gathers up what he sees. He pauses when he thinks he's collected the last of their things.

He hefts it all, takes a cursory glance around to ensure he's gathered everything, then heads toward the porch. ]

I'll get your horse saddled.

[ Alec would have to be a blind idiot to not know that Jack was one of the very few things Faraday actually cared about. Thankfully Alec’s portal lets out a ways outside of town, making it easy passage for the horses, but even if it let out inside the local inn, Alec would find a way to get Jack through.

He nods in response to Faraday and does his best to sit still while May finishes bandaging him up, but his nerves are making him twitchy. More than once the girl offers to heal him, but he waves her off- they just don’t have the time. He’ll deal with it on his own.

Once she’s done, Alec shrugs on his shirt, buttoning it as he exits the house— where he is abruptly assaulter by a bluebird flying in his face, chirping urgently. Alec doesn’t need to speak to animals to know what that means, and he swears under his breath as he bolts for the barn, where Anne has joined Faraday with Jack and Alec’s horse. (Alec named it Colonel, because there was something funny to him about his horse outranking ol’ Sarge, even if the man isn’t actually a sergeant. It’s in his name, and that’s close enough.) ]

There’s a rider incoming. Bring the horses around back and let’s go!

[ Colonel is a far sight easier to tack up than Jack ever has been, even on his least moody days, but Faraday leaves Colonel to Anne, all the same. The hard gallop has left Jack a little restless – not afraid, but agitated, not unlike how Faraday feels in the seconds before a fight. Not that Faraday can blame him, considering that same sensation is buzzing in Faraday’s veins as he loads up their gear.

The noise of footsteps pounding in the dirt has Faraday reaching for his off-hand gun, but he stops himself as Alec appears at the entrance of the barn. ]

—Shit.

[ Earlier this morning, Faraday had found himself a little fond of the way the men in town couldn’t lie to save their lives – mostly because it made it so terribly easy to take their cash. Now, though, he has a strong feeling they sang like stool pigeons to this goddamn bounty hunter, with or without meaning to, and Faraday has the urge to punch out their teeth.

He grabs Colonel’s reins from Anne when she passes them over, offers a quick nod of gratitude, and hurries both horses toward the entrance. ]

Go on, then. We’re as ready as we’ll be.

[ Alec leaves bringing the horses around to Faraday- he’s already on his way to the spot where his portal is. Opening up a tear in reality takes time, even if it’s already there, just covered. By the time Faraday rounds the corner with the horses, Alec already has one rune hanging in the air in purple light, another half-completed as he works out the marks by memory.

Colonel is old hat at this by now, and usually he waits patiently while Alec does his spells, but something has him agitated, same as Jack. Alec is determined not to let it distract him and keep up his casting, but the reason for the horses’ nervousness becomes all too clear—

Even in the midday sun, it’s hard to miss the way the light of Alec’s magic begins to fade. ]

Shit. Shit.

[ Alec tries in vain to make another mark, but nothing comes of it. Not even a spark of light. In another couple of seconds, the runes already hanging in the air fade away and vanish into nothing, and a cold, yawning emptiness settles over Alec. He mentally reaches for his tattoos, a fire spell, his camouflage, anything, but nothing responds. ]

… Now what?

[ As Faraday brings the horses around, Jack starts tugging, resisting the lead. Colonel is a little easier to handle, though fidgety, and Faraday leaves him to use both hands to grab hold of Jack’s reins, trying to keep the horse from bucking and bolting.

It takes less than second to recognize the horse isn’t spooked but angry, alert, and he starts throwing his head. Each yank on the reins drags Faraday with him toward the barn, as if the horse is trying to lead him back indoors. ]

The hell—?

[ He hears Alec curse, glances up in time to watch Alec’s spell vanish. That feeling rolls in like a fog, blocking off the dark flicker in his chest, and he presses his hand to his breastbone, the air punched out of him. This time, the sensation is stronger, walls away his ability so completely that Faraday can hardly find it. Fear crawls in after that, unfamiliar and cold, and only at Alec’s question does he manage to shake himself from his daze. ]

Looks like we’re runnin’ the old fashioned way.

[ Except the click of two hammers being cocked freezes Faraday in place when he moves to Jack’s flank. He turns slowly and sees a thin, grim-faced, oily-looking man aiming two revolvers at them. ]

No one’s goin’ nowhere, gentlemen, ‘cept with me back to town.

[ ... Shit.

Faraday grits his teeth, mind racing while he tries his best to appear calm. ]

Wyatt Garrison, I presume. [ Lightly, like greeting a new acquaintance. Faraday slowly lowers one hand, reaching for the pistol slung on his right hip. ] Listen, friend, I think there’s been a misunderstanding—

[ A gunshot pierces the quiet, and the bullet slams into the ground next to Faraday’s right boot, kicking up dirt. To his credit, Faraday only winces, though Jack neighs, reeling back and wrenching his reins. Faraday is forced to let the lead go before Jack yanks him onto his ass.

The bounty hunter pulls back the hammer again. ]

No funny business, Mr. Faraday. Just ‘cause I prefer takin’ you in alive don’t mean I need to.

[ Jack snorts as he backs away, tail lashing in the air as he stomps nervously in place. Faraday clicks his tongue at him, though he doesn’t keep his eyes off Wyatt, jerking his head to one side to signal the horse away. Jack seems to hesitate, seems to deliberate, but eventually he backs off further, giving them space.

Wyatt turns his attention to Alec next, sizing him up. ]

Reckon that makes you Mr. Brennan. Same warnin’ goes double for you.

[ Given how long Alec’s been alive, the time he’s spent with his magic- knowing how to use it, having those tattoos on his arms- is much greater than the time he’s spent without it. Alec knows how to fight, knows how to shoot, but the thought of doing either of those things without having his magic to lean back on seems terrifying in a way he can’t quite describe.

To his credit, he manages to keep it off his face, settling instead for a steely glare in the bounty hunter’s direction. He instantly dislikes this guy and his smug overconfidence. (Alec realizes, of course, that he’s also smugly overconfident on most days. The difference is he does it on purpose, whereas this guy is just an asshole.) Still, the loss of his magic has him reeling, and while he’s normally quick on his feet, he can’t for the life in him think of how they’re going to get out of this. ]

Oh, it goes double for me? Don’t I feel special.

[ The bounty hunter apparently has little to no sense of humor, considering his expression doesn’t change. He offers as explanation, ]

You got tricks, from what I hear. Not that they’ll do you much good with me around. [ A shadow of a smile briefly tugs at the corner of his mouth before his dark eyes flick over to Faraday. ] Also heard you got shot, but it seems you’re no worse for the wear.

[ Faraday shrugs, smiling blandly. ] I got lucky.

[ Wyatt only grunts a response, eyeing the both of them with open suspicion and hostility, before stepping toward them. ]

Look, mister. [ Faraday maintains that light, conversational tone of voice, but the barest edge of tension runs through it. ] If you’ll only let me explain—

I look like I give a shit? I don’t care what you think you did or didn’t do, cowboy, and I don’t reckon you’ve got enough money on you for even a halfway decent bribe. I came out here to do a job, and I’m doin’ it.

[ Wyatt looks over to Alec, gestures with his revolver. ]

Toss over your gun belt, son. Nice ‘n’ slow.

[ Of the two of them, Faraday is the better shot by far. Maybe, just maybe, if he plays his cards right, he can create an opening for the other man.

Slowly, probably a little more slowly than the bounty hunter would like, Alec does as he's told. ]

How much money is a decent bribe?

[ Wyatt watches the two of them warily, eyes narrowed at Alec as he bides his time. This question seems to amuse him, however slightly, judging by the flat look he sends Alec. ]

For you? [ He takes a second, gaze roving Alec from head to toe. He clicks his tongue, thoughtful. ] $200, or thereabouts.

Him? [ Punctuated by a sharp gesture with his revolver to Faraday, who scowls. ]

Oh, a measly $150. Maybe.

[ $350 is definitely more money than Alec has. Definitely more money than he’s seen in a while, and Garrison seems to know that. Of course, that doesn’t mean he can’t at least try. ]

So if I give you $200, you’ll let me go?

[ The corner of Wyatt’s mouth twitches upward. Faraday cuts Alec a glance, though his expression remains largely unchanged. Inwardly, though, something tightens in his chest, a bitter taste creeping up his throat.

He thinks, It goddamn figures, and hot on the heels of that, but can you blame him?

He finds he can’t. Not really. And if given the choice, Faraday isn’t entirely certain he wouldn’t throw Alec to the wolves to save his own hide.

Faraday returns his gaze to Wyatt as the other man speaks. ]

$200 up front and your pistol, son. Which you still ain’t given me. Hand those over, and we just might be square.

[ Alec has time to vaguely wonder just how Garrison stays in business if he can be bought that easily. Maybe rumors don’t travel as swiftly through non-magical circles as they do magical ones, and then again, maybe the man’s clients aren’t as vengeful as upper class wizards would be.

He exchanges a brief look with Faraday and then shrugs as if to say what can you do? The two of them don’t know each other enough to know that, one, Alec doesn’t have that kind of money squirreled away, and two, that he’s talking out of his ass right now. He knows he and Faraday don’t owe each other anything, but Alec figured that they’ve gotten this far together- it’d be a shame to end that now.

The wizard finishes removing his gun belt and lightly tosses it at the bounty hunter’s feet. ]

You gonna shoot me if I reach in my pocket?

Might shoot you no matter what you do. Go ahead and try your luck, if you like. I’ll get paid no matter what.

[ Wyatt drags the fallen gun belt closer with his boot, kicks it behind him and out of the way. Faint as it is, Wyatt’s smile is still sharp, something predatory and mean, as he turns it on Faraday. ]

No honor among thieves, eh?

[ Faraday shrugs a shoulder, keeping his eyes forward, does his best to wrangle the fiery wrath coiling in his chest. If he had access to his ability, he’d try his luck. He’d draw his pistol and take the shot. Wyatt would likely shoot him, too, but by then, Faraday would have already killed him. Faraday’s ability would drag him back from the dark, after that, and they could go about their business.

But that shadowy flicker in his chest is walled away, nearly gone, and the absence has left Faraday imbalanced. (And how infuriatingly capricious of him, to want for so long to be rid of his ability, and when he finally is, he thinks, No. Not now.) Must be the same for Alec. Must be that the lack of his magic has kicked up some wild sense of self-preservation, and frustrating as it is, Faraday understands. They hardly know each other. They aren’t responsible for one another. There’s no reason for either of them to stick out their necks for each other simply on account of a couple of shared battles and conversations.

Doesn’t mean Faraday has to take it lying down, though. He’s an impatient creature by nature, but he knows when to wait, when to watch for his openings, as he does now. His fingers itch, muscles primed to draw the second there’s an opportunity to shoot Wyatt down.

(And won’t that be awkward, to kill Wyatt with Alec’s hand still outstretched with the cash?)

When he replies, Faraday keeps his voice light. ] Don’t know that anyone’s got the patience for honor, these days. I certainly don’t.

[ First of all, Alec has a lot of thoughts about who must be thinking what right at the moment, but he can’t really afford to dwell on it. What he does know is that both men have bought the act, and honestly it’s one of the reasons he acts the way he does- so when he has to cut and run and only think of himself, no one is surprised.

Second of all, Alec is also aware that he can only move so slowly before his stalling tactic becomes way too obvious and Wyatt shoots him out of pure impatience. Still slowly, but not so much as to be a bother, Alec reaches into his pants pocket. He’s got a few bills in there, though not nearly enough, so he makes a point to hold them in such a way that it’s hard to tell just what he’s got as he raises his hands and carefully steps towards the bounty hunter.

Third of all, Alec realizes how phenomenally stupid this is. He has no magic to fall back on, no defenses to soften the blow of a bullet or take it altogether. But, he tells himself as though his flimsy logic will make this any less dumb, Faraday is the better shot.

So once he gets within reach of the other man, he brings is hand down to offer the wad of bills, though the second he does, he lunges forward. Alec moves across the other man’s body, his outstretched hand going for the gun currently trained on Faraday- which of course means that he willfully presses himself right into the gun that was trained on him. So, you know, this whole plan is right on track with being extremely stupid. The wizard clamps both hands around the bounty hunter’s wrists and attempts to pivot them around, just as Wyatt pulls both triggers.

Pain blooms in Alec’s middle, white hot and sharp- this is not one of his better days- but he maintains his grip and hopes its enough. ]

[ Faraday’s eyes bore holes into Alec’s back as he approaches Wyatt, who merely watches with that hint of dark amusement on his face. Wyatt’s attention is split, Faraday knows; easier to watch two men who stand side-by-side than to watch them staggered like this. Once he counts his money and lets Alec leave (if he lets him leave; slimy bastard as he is, he could very well pocket the money and shoot them both dead to claim the bounties), Faraday figures he’ll take his chances.

Except he doesn’t get the chance.

Because Alec surges forward, goes for Wyatt’s guns – starts with the wrong gun, in fact, and Faraday hardly has time to wonder how the hell he could make such a suicidal mistake. Wyatt fires, and the shot meant for Faraday gets knocked off course, grazing Faraday’s arm instead of burying into his chest. With hardly space for a breath after the guns fire, a third shot rings out.

The bullet bores a hole in Wyatt’s brow. His head jerks back with the impact, drags the rest of his body down with him to the dirt. He dies, wide-eyed and staring up at the blue expanse of sky. The instant the last bit of breath leaves Wyatt’s lungs, Faraday feels the barriers in his chest crash down, feels the shadowy curl swell back into being behind his heart. And maybe he should puzzle over the sense of relief that floods him as his magic returns, but mostly his focus hones in on Alec. ]

You goddamn crazy son of a bitch. [ This, growled as he charges forward, jamming his gun back into its holster. He grabs hold of Alec’s elbow and grimaces at the sight of blood blossoming across Alec’s front. He turns away only long enough to shout for May and Anne over his shoulder. ]

You stupid goddamn bastard. What the hell were you thinkin’?

[ Alec hears that third shot ring out, and glances up in time to see Wyatt’s head snap back. The man goes slack in his grip and Alec his happy to drop him in favor of pressing his hands to the red stain blooming on his torso. (God damn it all, he’s running out of shirts.)

That emptiness evaporates, and in spite of the pain, Alec lets out a sigh of relief. It’s too little, too late though, and there’s nothing his magic can do about the wound he already has. ]

Wasn’t, mostly.

[ Said through gritted teeth. He falls back half a step, letting his back hit the wall of the barn. ]

But I figured you were the better shot.

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