[ If she was being honest, it was reassuring to her as well. Anything to avoid the elephant in the room.]
McCree you've got the worst sense of timin' of anyone I know. I find it surprisin' that you can even figure out when high noon is.
[ She took her own seat on her sofa, settling in for the conversation. How long had it been since they'd had a phone conversation? She can't remember. ]
You looked like shit on the network. [ At least she might have said that back then too. ]
Sorry, what was that? Sure I just heard you say I have amazin’ timing. Thanks for that.
[ He smiles despite it all. This is… surprisingly not as bad as he’d expected. ]
Saw that, huh? Turns out comin’ back from the dead ain’t so kind on the body. Feel like a sixteen-wheeler ran me over.
[ It goes unsaid that she’d seen the message and not gotten in touch. It's not for him to judge, is it? It'd taken him so long to build up the nerve just for this call alone. ]
You should have your hearin' checked. You're goin' deaf in your old age.
[ She'd been torn on how to even respond to his post. She'd thought about replying but hadn't known at all what to say. So she'd stayed in the shadows and avoided. She'd even thought about avoiding this call, but there they were talking to each other.
She avoids the easy retort of 'shame it didn't' which she clearly wouldn't mean, and it would risk him bringing that up. So she's quiet for a moment while she tries to figure out what to say. ]
Just be glad you're no longer a part of zombie cowboy gang.
[ Jesse chuckles at the retort, then hums noncommittally at the reminder of his supposed ghostly dealings. He doesn't remember it, but everyone is so sure it had been him. It's an uncomfortable thought, one that sits heavy in a pit in his stomach. ]
... Give it to me straight, Ashe. You really think that was me, runnin' around town sendin' ghosts after people?
[ Damn, seriousness. She wasn't even sure how to make some witty comment to that. ]
Aww, Hell Jesse. It was you. [ She had no trouble laying it out straight and not sugar coating the details. ] . First second I saw you sittin' on that horse, I recognized you. On top of that you led me back to place you [ dammit... ] died. And yeah, you hung out with a bunch of look a-likes of cheap John Wayne extras. They caused some trouble for some of us, but it was like you were just some vacant ring leader of Deerington's newest shit storm.
You know as well as I do that this place uses anythin' and everythin' to up the scare factor for the rest of us. Your ghost just got picked this time. And it isn't like you were really there, more like a puppet. It was you, but it wasn't you. Eventually the puppet master got bored and sent you back to the living. No more, no less.
[ There’s silence on his end of the line as he mulls that over. It’s not the truth he’d prefer, but he had wanted the truth. He realizes now that he’d implicitly trusted Ashe to give it to him. No pulling punches, no sugar to mask the bite. ]
Another reason to find the ‘ringleader’ and make ‘em pay for all the shit they’ve pulled.
[ She almost smiles on her end. That was the Jesse she remembered. ]
Well, if you find them, you let me in on it y'hear. I want a piece of that action.
[ For so very many reasons. ]
Mmm. [ She had underplayed how much it had disturbed her, but that was a truth she was still trying to hide. Mostly she was successful, so long as she had whiskey coursing through her veins. ] Y'always did prefer the truth.
[ That almost has him smiling too. They’ve grown so far apart over the years, fallen out of touch… but she still knows him so well. Seems like it shouldn’t work that way, but he won’t complain. At least not until it turns around and bites him in the ass one day. ]
Speakin’ of the truth, there’s the reason I called. Wanted to check in.
[ She surely hadn’t spent a whole lot of time mourning him, but still. She’d watched him die. He’d seen her crying, had… maybe thought about it a little too much since waking up. Who would have thought she had tears left in her for him? It just wouldn’t have felt right, not following up. ]
[ There it was, the question she had been expecting but dreading. So much for ignoring the elephant. She's quiet on the other end for a few long moments as she tries to even begin to explain anything.
In the same way that he figured she hadn't mourned over him, she never would have believed that he would take a bullet in the back for her. And then someone had told her that sacrificing yourself for someone came from love and that was hard to believe as well. So there was a lot of doubt spilling over the edges. Maybe she'd never stopped mourning all those years ago and just gotten herself stuck in the anger stage of her grief.
Either way, she'd been an easy target for Deerington's horrors. She felt vulnerable and that made her feel threatened, and Ashe could be a loose canon when she felt threatened.
She can't hide the exhaustion in her voice, no matter how hard she tries. ]
Dealin' with one headache here and another there. [ She could guess where this was coming from. ] So, what'd she tell you?
[ He says it with a certain lilt to his voice that says he knows just who she means. He lets the joke sit there until he’s gotten a good chuckle out of it, then keeps going. ]
She said… things had been rough since I died. [ An understatement, really. ] Made it sound like she thought my dyin’ had something to do with it.
[ She's about to tell him to cut the crap, when he chuckles and she sighs. Yup, just what she thought. She'd told her to leave it alone. And somehow, she'd grown close enough to her in that time that she can't even be mad.
She wasn't exactly going to confirm that everything in the wake of his death had been difficult and she was having trouble sleeping without a certain thing that went by the name of Jack. Hopefully Chloe hadn't told him about the night B.O.B. had carried her home because she was too drunk to walk. Or that she'd found refuge in her old gambling skills and the only thing she seemed to be good at, criminal business. Rough was an understatement, but she was surviving and carrying on despite it. The same old functional mess. ]
I am pretty used to losin' you at this point. [ It's said as casually as possible, but the hint of bitterness is palpable. Still too fresh were the memories of a teen Jesse swearing he'd never leave again. She tries to keep her frustration calm, but it seeps out around the edges. Angry at always having to be the one that gets left. ] Things are rough for everyone here. It don't matter what happens, you suck it up and move on, right?
[ And there it is: an echo of what Chloe had already told him, what he hadn’t believed at the time and is still hesitant to believe now. Ashe is tough. She’s long past caring much about him, other than maybe wanting to use him for target practice… or so he’d thought. ]
There’s different ways to cope. Bein’ here, you got to figure ‘em out quick, or the stuff you see… it’ll eat you alive before the monsters do.
[ He shifts on the couch until he’s laying down, feet propped up on the opposite armrest. He’s feeling warm in a telltale feverish way- which isn’t fair at all. He’s been sick more in Deerington than he has probably in his entire life. But knowing what he does about death here, he'd been wondering when the other shoe would drop. Great. ]
[ Sometimes she wasn't sure he'd ever gotten out of his bonehead kid stage. While he's getting comfortable laying down, she's making her way to the kitchen to grab a new bottle of whiskey. She makes her way back to the sofa before popping the cork and calming her nerves with the smell. There is also the tell tale click of a lighter.
She gives a laugh at his comment about coping, though it lacks real humor. ] I don't need you to tell me how to cope. [ She'd been coping since she was child, and while they may not have been the best. She was tough, and she was proud of that. ]
And may the lord have mercy on the poor soul who tries to so much as take a bite of me, because I sure as hell won't.
[ Well, she does have a point there. Jesse has never had the healthiest coping mechanisms either, and they both know it. Deerington is a whole other beast though, between the things it makes people see and the things it makes them do. Without the support he's had... he's not sure where he'd be now, honestly. Maybe still having panic attacks every time he looked at the damn mountains. ]
Well it sounds like you need somethin'. I know this ain't about me- whatever else this place is doin' to you, or whatever it already did, you got better options than drinkin' yourself into oblivion every night.
[ Though he'd be partly wrong about his part in all of this, she wasn't about to correct him. She wouldn't have considered herself to have too bad a drinking habit, mostly she was controlled. She couldn't do what she did successfully if she was a drunk. Even here she had a high tolerance and it wasn't until the dark hours of morning when the ghosts got to her that she really reached for the relief of blacking out into sleep. And it hadn't been every night, just many of them.
He was right though, she did drink a lot. That had been upped since she'd arrived. She slumped back on the sofa, so that she was laying down too and was glad he couldn't see her, because she pillowed her head against the serape she had gotten used to having close. Reminded her of happier times.
She let out an exasperated huff. ] I ain't some drunk Jesse. I just can't fuckin' sleep! [ And he played more of a part in that than either seemed willing to believe.]
[ Jesse’s smile is sad as he shifts a little, getting more comfortable. It’s hard with the clamminess of his skin now, but he’ll wait to go change into a lighter set of pajamas. ]
Preachin’ to the choir over here.
[ And maybe it’s the lingering guilt he’s not sure is even warranted, or maybe it’s the start of the fever frying his brain, but he keeps talking. ]
About a year ago, I woke up hoverin’ over my bed like some kind of drone. Turns out I’d been that way almost a month, just sleepin’. Wouldn’t wake up. Happens sometimes to people around here, and it’s harmless other than losin’ your time, but… it freaked me out so bad that I couldn’t be in my own bed for months. When I did sleep, it was on the couch or the break room at work, with a lot of whiskey.
Sure, it gets the job done. But it's not gonna work forever.
[ She's a little caught off guard by his tone. She'd been expecting more of a fight and less understanding. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in while he spoke and shifted a bit to get more comfortable against the pillowed serape.
Instinctively she reaches out for the bottle, but her hand falls and she just takes another drag from the cigarette. ]
A month long nap, huh? [ If it didn't sounds so weird, it might have sounded nice. ] Guess I can see where that might mess a person's head up. Hopefully you at least have a comfy sofa and at least whiskey gets the job done. You know I haven't drank like this since....
[ She trails off, changing the subject, because the way he sounds makes her wonder if he's all right. ] You uh...you okay over there?
[ Since when? Jesse’s surprised how much he wants to hear her finish that sentence. Was it something he’d missed? Or had it been one of the many mishaps with the gang he’s been able to track over the years? Certainly not one of its successes, if it brought her to drink.
And then he realizes the absurdity of that whim, a dry laugh rasping out of him as he presses the heel of one hand to his forehead. The metal of his palm actually feels pleasant against his skin. This whole thing is absurd. He should know better than to have shared that story with her at all, but… old habits. They always pop up when you neither expect or need them to. ]
Hmn? Yeah, yeah-
[ He lifts his hand, waving it dismissively, again disregarding that they’re on audio. ]
Fit as a fiddle. No changin’ the subject on me now.
[ Yeah, the sound of his voice makes her frown. Could you die from the illness after coming back from dying? That wouldn't be good. Chloe had been sleeping over at his house, just waiting for him to return. The girl would be devastated if he died again. She'd been told it was like a bad flu and cleared up after about a week. But the last thing he was, was fit as a fiddle.
She almost demands he give a video call to prove it, but...then he'd see what she was using as a pillow. ]
Fit as a fiddle? More like sick as dog.
[ Hadn't she kept an eye on him once when he was sick. Eh...she couldn't remember. But he's trying to go back to the subject. She'd trailed off for a reason and wasn't going to go back to it. But there were topics they could discuss safely enough, even involving the subject of her drinking. ]
Hey...
Do you remember that one gang that we uh... had a lot of trouble with in the early days? [ A gang that had been real trouble for a lot of the Southwest. They were dangerous and they'd lost to Deadlock in the end. ] The ones we took care of? [ And not in a loving way. ]
[ Jesse doesn’t deny it. The effects of death are well-known, so it’d be a waste of their time to go back and forth about it. He'll be sick, then get right back to living.
And then his thoughts are suddenly back in the middle of a firefight. Dust and blood, the feel of grit and shrapnel on his skin. Ashe, so much younger than she is now-too young, they’d both been too damn young- clutching her weapon. Their eyes meeting as bullets whizzed between them. ]
Sure do.
[ He doesn’t have to ask for her to clarify. There’s only one gang she’d ask about like that. ]
[ With her cigarette done, she picks up the bottle of whiskey and holds it, watching the amber liquid with too deep a desire as she thinks about it.
They had been too young and she'd been too wild and high on it all, and she hadn't had anyone pull her out of it or change her life. Luckily she had been good enough at it to not end up like that gang had. It had been a terrifying fight, and that fear had been brought up all over again ever since he came riding back as a ghost with figures of the past as his army. Now how to put the next part without letting on to the fact that she'd actually been terrified.]
Well, they showed up with you when you rode into town as a ghost cowboy. Sounds like people were haunted by lots of different things, but that gang...well they've been tryin' to get to me every night since. [ Torturing her was more honest. ] Only just stopped, I'm guessin' because you came back.
[ Jesse’s breath catches in his throat. It’s hard enough to imagine himself as this ghostly ringleader everyone had been describing. Another altogether to think of himself leading that gang right to her, and not doing a thing to stop it.
She’d said it wasn’t him, and he knows that’s true… knows it, but that doesn’t ease the twist of guilt in his chest. ]
Ashe…
[ He sits up, feeling like he should… do something. Or at the very least not be relaxing now that he knows this. ]
No wonder you’ve been drinkin’. Hell, I’d be too in your shoes.
[ There’s the sound of shuffling on his head as he turns, sitting properly on the couch with his feet on the ground. He hunches over, elbows on his knees. ]
[ She'd managed to stay safe enough, but facing the ghost of the gang leader had made her blood run cold and she'd never fully gotten used to it. Just when she'd think she was free of them, when they'd go for a night or two, suddenly she'd see them again. She'd been some bratty teenager who thought she knew better and somehow Deadlock had managed to take out the older more experienced criminal. So of course his ghost had been giving her hell. She'd woken up on night after a respite for a few days only to see him staring through her widow. She'd screamed so loudly, B.O.B. had stopped recharging early to come to her defense. ]
Not completely. Always got away, but there were a couple close calls.
[ She stayed laying down, her eyes fixated on the liquid. Everything she needed to shut the bad stuff out was in that bottle. She chuckles softly, before moving on with a faux upbeat tone.]
On top of that, you missed a lovely walk down memory lane. But, several others got to see it, so apparently the puppet master thinks I need to remember somethin'. Guess they missed the memo on it bein' impolite to air the dirty laundry of others. [ It had almost been worse to have other people see her past than face it alone every night. ]
[ Jesse relaxes a little when he hears she’d gotten away. Doesn’t mean it hadn’t been a living nightmare, but it could’ve been worse. Whatever that’s worth. ]
Chloe mentioned that. I missed it last year, too. Bein’ asleep and all.
[ He’s about to ask her what she saw, then catches himself. If she wants to tell him, she will. He shouldn’t pry. Rather than give in to the urge, he stands, making his way into the bedroom on unsteady feet. ]
Sounds like one hell of a time though. Extra emphasis on the hell.
[ She'd thought a couple of times when the leader had raised his gun it might get worse, but B.O.B. had been ready to show down, bless his soul. The beloved omnic was a big part of her success in staying alive. People who would take her on, wouldn't take him on.
Uh oh, Chloe had apparently told him more things. While the bad memories armed against future wrong, the good ones she cherished privately in her own way. There were a few people who had seen both, and she hadn't liked it much. ]
Guess it's a sneak peak into my future. [ She didn't believe much else would be waiting for at the pearly gates. ]
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McCree you've got the worst sense of timin' of anyone I know. I find it surprisin' that you can even figure out when high noon is.
[ She took her own seat on her sofa, settling in for the conversation. How long had it been since they'd had a phone conversation? She can't remember. ]
You looked like shit on the network. [ At least she might have said that back then too. ]
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[ He smiles despite it all. This is… surprisingly not as bad as he’d expected. ]
Saw that, huh? Turns out comin’ back from the dead ain’t so kind on the body. Feel like a sixteen-wheeler ran me over.
[ It goes unsaid that she’d seen the message and not gotten in touch. It's not for him to judge, is it? It'd taken him so long to build up the nerve just for this call alone. ]
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[ She'd been torn on how to even respond to his post. She'd thought about replying but hadn't known at all what to say. So she'd stayed in the shadows and avoided. She'd even thought about avoiding this call, but there they were talking to each other.
She avoids the easy retort of 'shame it didn't' which she clearly wouldn't mean, and it would risk him bringing that up. So she's quiet for a moment while she tries to figure out what to say. ]
Just be glad you're no longer a part of zombie cowboy gang.
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... Give it to me straight, Ashe. You really think that was me, runnin' around town sendin' ghosts after people?
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Aww, Hell Jesse. It was you. [ She had no trouble laying it out straight and not sugar coating the details. ] . First second I saw you sittin' on that horse, I recognized you. On top of that you led me back to place you [ dammit... ] died. And yeah, you hung out with a bunch of look a-likes of cheap John Wayne extras. They caused some trouble for some of us, but it was like you were just some vacant ring leader of Deerington's newest shit storm.
You know as well as I do that this place uses anythin' and everythin' to up the scare factor for the rest of us. Your ghost just got picked this time. And it isn't like you were really there, more like a puppet. It was you, but it wasn't you. Eventually the puppet master got bored and sent you back to the living. No more, no less.
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Another reason to find the ‘ringleader’ and make ‘em pay for all the shit they’ve pulled.
[ He sighs quietly, closing his eyes. ]
Thanks. Better knowin’ than not.
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Well, if you find them, you let me in on it y'hear. I want a piece of that action.
[ For so very many reasons. ]
Mmm. [ She had underplayed how much it had disturbed her, but that was a truth she was still trying to hide. Mostly she was successful, so long as she had whiskey coursing through her veins. ] Y'always did prefer the truth.
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[ That almost has him smiling too. They’ve grown so far apart over the years, fallen out of touch… but she still knows him so well. Seems like it shouldn’t work that way, but he won’t complain. At least not until it turns around and bites him in the ass one day. ]
Speakin’ of the truth, there’s the reason I called. Wanted to check in.
[ She surely hadn’t spent a whole lot of time mourning him, but still. She’d watched him die. He’d seen her crying, had… maybe thought about it a little too much since waking up. Who would have thought she had tears left in her for him? It just wouldn’t have felt right, not following up. ]
How’ve things been?
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In the same way that he figured she hadn't mourned over him, she never would have believed that he would take a bullet in the back for her. And then someone had told her that sacrificing yourself for someone came from love and that was hard to believe as well. So there was a lot of doubt spilling over the edges. Maybe she'd never stopped mourning all those years ago and just gotten herself stuck in the anger stage of her grief.
Either way, she'd been an easy target for Deerington's horrors. She felt vulnerable and that made her feel threatened, and Ashe could be a loose canon when she felt threatened.
She can't hide the exhaustion in her voice, no matter how hard she tries. ]
Dealin' with one headache here and another there. [ She could guess where this was coming from. ] So, what'd she tell you?
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[ He says it with a certain lilt to his voice that says he knows just who she means. He lets the joke sit there until he’s gotten a good chuckle out of it, then keeps going. ]
She said… things had been rough since I died. [ An understatement, really. ] Made it sound like she thought my dyin’ had something to do with it.
[ A laughable thought to Ashe, he’s sure. ]
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She wasn't exactly going to confirm that everything in the wake of his death had been difficult and she was having trouble sleeping without a certain thing that went by the name of Jack. Hopefully Chloe hadn't told him about the night B.O.B. had carried her home because she was too drunk to walk. Or that she'd found refuge in her old gambling skills and the only thing she seemed to be good at, criminal business. Rough was an understatement, but she was surviving and carrying on despite it. The same old functional mess. ]
I am pretty used to losin' you at this point. [ It's said as casually as possible, but the hint of bitterness is palpable. Still too fresh were the memories of a teen Jesse swearing he'd never leave again. She tries to keep her frustration calm, but it seeps out around the edges. Angry at always having to be the one that gets left. ] Things are rough for everyone here. It don't matter what happens, you suck it up and move on, right?
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There’s different ways to cope. Bein’ here, you got to figure ‘em out quick, or the stuff you see… it’ll eat you alive before the monsters do.
[ He shifts on the couch until he’s laying down, feet propped up on the opposite armrest. He’s feeling warm in a telltale feverish way- which isn’t fair at all. He’s been sick more in Deerington than he has probably in his entire life. But knowing what he does about death here, he'd been wondering when the other shoe would drop. Great. ]
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She gives a laugh at his comment about coping, though it lacks real humor. ] I don't need you to tell me how to cope. [ She'd been coping since she was child, and while they may not have been the best. She was tough, and she was proud of that. ]
And may the lord have mercy on the poor soul who tries to so much as take a bite of me, because I sure as hell won't.
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Well it sounds like you need somethin'. I know this ain't about me- whatever else this place is doin' to you, or whatever it already did, you got better options than drinkin' yourself into oblivion every night.
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He was right though, she did drink a lot. That had been upped since she'd arrived. She slumped back on the sofa, so that she was laying down too and was glad he couldn't see her, because she pillowed her head against the serape she had gotten used to having close. Reminded her of happier times.
She let out an exasperated huff. ] I ain't some drunk Jesse. I just can't fuckin' sleep! [ And he played more of a part in that than either seemed willing to believe.]
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Preachin’ to the choir over here.
[ And maybe it’s the lingering guilt he’s not sure is even warranted, or maybe it’s the start of the fever frying his brain, but he keeps talking. ]
About a year ago, I woke up hoverin’ over my bed like some kind of drone. Turns out I’d been that way almost a month, just sleepin’. Wouldn’t wake up. Happens sometimes to people around here, and it’s harmless other than losin’ your time, but… it freaked me out so bad that I couldn’t be in my own bed for months. When I did sleep, it was on the couch or the break room at work, with a lot of whiskey.
Sure, it gets the job done. But it's not gonna work forever.
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Instinctively she reaches out for the bottle, but her hand falls and she just takes another drag from the cigarette. ]
A month long nap, huh? [ If it didn't sounds so weird, it might have sounded nice. ] Guess I can see where that might mess a person's head up. Hopefully you at least have a comfy sofa and at least whiskey gets the job done. You know I haven't drank like this since....
[ She trails off, changing the subject, because the way he sounds makes her wonder if he's all right. ] You uh...you okay over there?
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And then he realizes the absurdity of that whim, a dry laugh rasping out of him as he presses the heel of one hand to his forehead. The metal of his palm actually feels pleasant against his skin. This whole thing is absurd. He should know better than to have shared that story with her at all, but… old habits. They always pop up when you neither expect or need them to. ]
Hmn? Yeah, yeah-
[ He lifts his hand, waving it dismissively, again disregarding that they’re on audio. ]
Fit as a fiddle. No changin’ the subject on me now.
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She almost demands he give a video call to prove it, but...then he'd see what she was using as a pillow. ]
Fit as a fiddle? More like sick as dog.
[ Hadn't she kept an eye on him once when he was sick. Eh...she couldn't remember. But he's trying to go back to the subject. She'd trailed off for a reason and wasn't going to go back to it. But there were topics they could discuss safely enough, even involving the subject of her drinking. ]
Hey...
Do you remember that one gang that we uh... had a lot of trouble with in the early days? [ A gang that had been real trouble for a lot of the Southwest. They were dangerous and they'd lost to Deadlock in the end. ] The ones we took care of? [ And not in a loving way. ]
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And then his thoughts are suddenly back in the middle of a firefight. Dust and blood, the feel of grit and shrapnel on his skin. Ashe, so much younger than she is now-too young, they’d both been too damn young- clutching her weapon. Their eyes meeting as bullets whizzed between them. ]
Sure do.
[ He doesn’t have to ask for her to clarify. There’s only one gang she’d ask about like that. ]
Why bring 'em up now?
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They had been too young and she'd been too wild and high on it all, and she hadn't had anyone pull her out of it or change her life. Luckily she had been good enough at it to not end up like that gang had. It had been a terrifying fight, and that fear had been brought up all over again ever since he came riding back as a ghost with figures of the past as his army. Now how to put the next part without letting on to the fact that she'd actually been terrified.]
Well, they showed up with you when you rode into town as a ghost cowboy. Sounds like people were haunted by lots of different things, but that gang...well they've been tryin' to get to me every night since. [ Torturing her was more honest. ] Only just stopped, I'm guessin' because you came back.
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She’d said it wasn’t him, and he knows that’s true… knows it, but that doesn’t ease the twist of guilt in his chest. ]
Ashe…
[ He sits up, feeling like he should… do something. Or at the very least not be relaxing now that he knows this. ]
No wonder you’ve been drinkin’. Hell, I’d be too in your shoes.
[ There’s the sound of shuffling on his head as he turns, sitting properly on the couch with his feet on the ground. He hunches over, elbows on his knees. ]
They didn’t get to you, did they?
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Not completely. Always got away, but there were a couple close calls.
[ She stayed laying down, her eyes fixated on the liquid. Everything she needed to shut the bad stuff out was in that bottle. She chuckles softly, before moving on with a faux upbeat tone.]
On top of that, you missed a lovely walk down memory lane. But, several others got to see it, so apparently the puppet master thinks I need to remember somethin'. Guess they missed the memo on it bein' impolite to air the dirty laundry of others. [ It had almost been worse to have other people see her past than face it alone every night. ]
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Chloe mentioned that. I missed it last year, too. Bein’ asleep and all.
[ He’s about to ask her what she saw, then catches himself. If she wants to tell him, she will. He shouldn’t pry. Rather than give in to the urge, he stands, making his way into the bedroom on unsteady feet. ]
Sounds like one hell of a time though. Extra emphasis on the hell.
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Uh oh, Chloe had apparently told him more things. While the bad memories armed against future wrong, the good ones she cherished privately in her own way. There were a few people who had seen both, and she hadn't liked it much. ]
Guess it's a sneak peak into my future. [ She didn't believe much else would be waiting for at the pearly gates. ]
Did she...tell you anythin' about it?
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