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seoll3miwrites · 1 month

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Doing Time | Criminal Minds S.R

Chapter 6. Vegas

Spencer and Hana should probably talk about the other night, if only their wan't so important and distracting. Or maybe they're just coming up with excuses. Chapter Title: Vegas by Doja Cat

Spencer and Hana hadn’t spoken about the drunken kiss they’d shared only a few weeks ago. It had only been a three days after that night they’d been sent out on another case in , but once they’d gotten back to DC neither knew how broach the subject. Even now as they sat next to each other on the jet heading to Las Vegas, New Mexico, they both struggled to start a conversation about that night; so they didn’t.

“I wish it was the fun Las Vegas.” Hana complained as she ate the salad Sasha had made her that morning.

“Did you know I’m from Vegas?”

“Really?” She turned to him, perking up in interest, “Does this mean I should bring you with the next time I head to the casinos?”

“I would sat yes but I’m actually banned from majority of the casinos in Vegas.” He informed her nonchalantly.

“Holy shit!” She exclaimed in surprise, “I was wrong you got a little bad side to you, Doctor.”

He laughed at her, which encouraged Hana to laugh as well. Out of habit she hit him slightly on the arm as she continued to laugh, before catching her breath. The pair were soon joined by the rest of the team in order to get a general profile before they land.

“Is there even anything interesting about this Las Vegas?” Hana questioned to start the discussion, which Spencer was happy to contribute.

“In the late 19th century, it was a booming railroad hub with a reputation for lawlessness, and apparently, outlaws are a part of the town's genetics. Billy the Kid lived there, and Doc Holliday himself had a saloon there before going to meet Wyatt Earp in Tombstone.”

“The more things change, the more things stay the same.” Rossi chimed in, looking through the case file.

“All the victims in both instances were teenagers, except for Jose Rivera.”

“A younger staff, that's pretty typical for a night shift.” Morgan chimed in, to add extra information.

“The unsubs might have considered that. It would be easier to subdue a group of kids.”

Tara leaned forward slightly so she could contribute, “Almost an identical M.O. Copycat or no, why go back to this town and do this again?

“They could be sending some kind of message to announce their return.” Spencer suggested, followed by Rossi’s other idea.

“Or it just might be criminal ego. They got away with it the first time. Why not do it again?”

“Could also be about reliving it, if it is the same unsubs they might be wanting to relive the ‘glory days’.” Hana noted although she didn’t consider killing teenagers and arson as something someone should see as their ‘glory days’

“With unsubs this violent, how do you just disappear and go dormant for 6 years?” Morgan questioned, continuing to build the profile.

Hotch turned towards Morgan before speaking, “They may have been in prison. That would explain the criminal experience.”

“Crime U., best education taxpayer money can buy.” Rossi uttered making Hana smirk slightly, yet she hid it behind her hand at the glance she received from Hotch.

“When we land, I'll have Garcia compile a list of recently released convicts in the area. Morgan, you and Reid go with Federov to the coroner when we land. Lewis, you're with Dave and me at the local PD.”

With that the team waited until they landed until they wait their separate ways. Hana followed Spencer and Morgan to one of the 3 cars waiting for them before heading off to the coroner. The arrived only a few minutes later, exiting the vehicle the trio made the way towards the building. The wind was slightly strong and kept blowing Hana’s hair into her face. She gather her hair and went to tie it into a pony tail only to realise that she didn’t have a hair tie on either wrist. Sighing heavily, she released her hair, allowing to flow in the wind.

As they continued walking, Hana felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to face Spencer to her right. He handed her something before continuing towards the building. She looked down to see that he had handed her a small black hair tie. Smiling slightly, she pulled her hair backup and tied into a messy ponytail.

“Thanks!” She called over to Spencer, who turned and smiled in reply.

Once they entered the building the met with the coroner who led them through to the morgue where the three victims laid on separate metal autopsy table. Hana felt a strange feeling as looked at the victims, this was the first time she’d seen someone younger than her. They had so much life left in them, so much potential. She wanted to catch these assholes. Or maybe just kill them.

Spencer leaned in to assess the victims, “Several antemortem wounds, facial lacerations, fractured jaw, a fractured skull.”

“Yeah, it was a brutal beating. All 3 of them had broken ribs, too.” The coroner responded as he read from his autopsy report.

“And ligature marks.” The doctor noted as he continued look over the bodies.

The coroner nodded before continuing, “Looks like the boys were bound with their own belts and electrical wires. I found leather and melted plastic in their clothes.” He spoke as he lead them towards the female victim, “Renee Acosta was different. There's evidence of sexual assault.”

“Any recoverable DNA?”, Morgan asked.

“None. Whatever wasn't destroyed by the fire got washed away by the sprinklers. But she was recovered without clothes on. And based on the cotton and nylon fibres I found around her wrists, I think they restrained her with her own underwear.”

Spencer looked up from the female victim, “That's precisely what happened to the female victim 6 years ago.”

“Those details weren't released to the press. These aren't copycats. These are the same guys.” Morgan noted in reply.

Hana looked between the two other agents before speaking, “The question still stands, I mean why come back now?”

As it turns out only one of the unsubs was the original perpetrators from 6 years ago. Duke Mason had returned due his old flame, who most likely gave birth to his son before he was imprisoned all those years ago. Garcia, the wonder that she is, was able to find Tammy Vasquez’ address, and now Hana was sat next to Morgan as the team drove their way over there.

When they arrived Chief Montoya reached the house first and made his way to the door to knock, everyone else gathered behind him.

“Ms. Vasquez! Police! Hello? Anybody home?” He called multiple times with seemingly no answer, “Nobody here.”

They turned to leave before Morgan heard a muffled cry in the distance, causing him to pause, “Wait a minute. You hear that?”, He moved towards the door before knocking, “FBI! Anybody here?”

Hana moved closer to the door and heard more sobbing coming from the house, she nodded at Morgan to show she heard it too. “There's somebody in there.”

The officers went around the back as Morgan kicked open the door. Moving through the house, Hana made her way through following closely behind Morgan. Turning a corner the pair found an older woman tied up with duct tape across her mouth.

“Guys.” Morgan called as he made his way to the woman tied up, “It's ok. It's ok, I got you. I got you. Are you hurt?”

“No. I'm fine. He took them. He took them both.”

“We need to issue an Amber alert.” Rossi stated a turned around back outside the house. Hana stayed for moment longer making sure the other woman was okay, before following her team outside.

She walked towards Morgan and Rossi who were speaking to each other. While she didn’t catch the beginning of the conversation she heard Rossi’s question to Morgan. “What happened to Turner?”

“I bet it got pretty ugly when they split up.” Morgan suggested, car pulled up the scene and Spencer step out running slightly towards them.

“Hotch is out coordinating roadblocks and canvassing the area, but so far nothing.” Spencer spoke, giving them an update.

“Why switch directions are risk coming all the way back here?”

Rossi shrugged slightly before answering, “He's strung out and believes that boy Cole is his son. He's capable of anything.”

“We should extend the Amber alert.” Spencer suggested to which the team all nodded in a agreement.

Chief Montoya shouted as he made his way over to the team, “Agents! Tammy Vasquez' pickup truck was spotted heading south on Route 34.”

“Is that far from here?”

“About 10 miles or so. State police have major roadways on the other end blocked off so he can't get out, but it cuts through the Santa Fe National Forest. If he knows what he's doing, he can hole up out there for weeks.”

“Where would he go to access fresh water?”

“There's an old abandoned campground. It doesn't get used much. Sometimes the kids go up there to drink.”

“He'd want to go someplace familiar.” Rossi observed

“That’s probably where he took them.” Hana stated as Spencer turned to her, a strange expression on his face.

“Agents, if you don't mind me making a suggestion,” Montoya spoke as he lifted a map for everyone to see, “I know that place like the back of my hand.”

Hana stood next to Rossi as her and the team listened as he pointed to the map at a certain point where they could move if they wanted to catch Mason by surprise. After the plan was set up, they separated into small groups and headed towards the campsite.

When they arrived Hana noticed the car park up, and two figures that appeared to be arguing, she turned to Rossi who nodded to indicate it was time to intervene. Signalling to the other groups who moved in to the figures.

Noticing the guns each of them was holding, Morgan stood out slightly to announce their presence, “FBI, drop the weapon!”

In response, Hana heard the one with the long hair shout something before the pair began to fire at the police and agents in the trees. In the firefight they were able to take the long haired with one sniper shot, but Mason stayed up longer.

Hana step out for one moment in attempt to get mother shot in, when she felt red hot pain exploded in her right side. She moved back behind the tree and put her hand against the pain source; only to find her hand coated in blood. The asshole had managed to get a shot clean through her shoulder.

“Shit!” She cursed as she put her back on the wound, “You motherfucker!”

“Language!” She heard the Rossi shout over from his position.

“With all due respect sir,” she replied, “I’ve been fucking shot!”

While she was shouting back she noticed the firefight had finally ended and saw Mason lying on the ground. The lack of bullets firing allowed Rossi to make his over to where she was now sitting against the tree.

“Don’t worry it was clean shot, I’ll just need stitches.” She reassured as her unit chief looked at her shoulder in concern.

“Someone should still take a look at it before we leave.” He ordered as he grabbed her uninjured left arm to help her up.

She smiled wryly at him, the pain still making her dizzy. “Careful, Sir someone might think you like me.”

Rossi laughed slightly before replying, “Oh we wouldn’t want that.”

After Hana was patched, she joined her team at the funeral of the victims, dressed in black sat between Spencer and Tara on a wooden church pew. That strange feeling that she felt when she saw the bodies had came back, causing her to clench the skirt of the simple black dress she was wearing. As she listened to the singer, and watching the parents say their last goodbyes; she realised it was sorrow. She’d felt sorrow before, but this was the first time she had mourned not only for these young victims but also for the lives they could’ve lived.

So, around some of the few people that she trusted, she allowed one tear to fall. Noticing the need for comfort she felt Tara reach out and grasp Hana's hand gently, to which she squeezed it in thanks. At least this time she felt sorrow; she wasn’t alone.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #season 11 #criminal minds oc #original character #fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x oc #11x04 #the bau team

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doingthingsthewriteway · 11 months

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Moss

request: yes

summary: Daisy Pt. 2. More trials (and a lot of fluff) between doc and daisy

Doc Holliday was a lot of things and stupid was not on that list. Something that often got him in a heap of trouble was his education. Quick witted remarks in a variety of languages would swirl around his brain, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice. He was well versed in novels, theater, nocturnes, and even a dash of politics. His understanding of God and the universe was also impressive.

So no, he certainly wasn’t stupid. Why then was his Daisy hiding things from him? Did she think his male nature made him inherently oblivious to the state of things? Clearly something was wrong.

Smoke from a pipe- not a cigar nor cigarette but herbs his Y/N read about to ease his pain thank you very much- billowed around swirling with all of his doubts. Doc puffed away as he thought back on all of the recent nonsense.

First was subtle. One fine evening, Doc’s family gathered in the Oriental. He felt himself glow with pride as the Earp’s and Y/N surrounded him each night. Sometimes he thought he was delirious with another fever as the sound of laughter and touches of affection enveloped him.

That evening, however, as he waited patiently for Y/N return to his lap, a frown furrowed his handsome face. She balanced on his thighs, glass in hand. “Darlin’?” He tapped the glass with a hesitant finger. “You switch to gin?”

Her laugh was enough to erase the frown. “No, huckleberry, I thought we could benefit from some water. I still don’t want you drinking, can’t live without you.”

“Oh hell, honey, you’re stuck with my nonsense for the rest of your life.” Her pretty eyelashes and bustle free legs were enough to make him forget.

Then, all together, Y/N stopped their evening nightcap. Now, yes he needed to quit his drinking to excess, but a glass of bourbon with his baby every night surely was not a problem. Doc wondered if going to the Oriental every night reminded his bride of his affair, which seemed reasonable. Certainly not willing to be on the receiving end of her wrath anytime soon, he let that go.

Next was more straight forward. Wyatt had received tickets for boxsets at the Birdcage. Y/N loved Faust so naturally Doc jumped at the chance for a family outing. His darling all but squealed with delight when Doc sauntered into suite, with a dress bag slung over his arm.

“May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the depths of hell tonight, Mrs. Holliday?” Mustached lips tickled up her arm, over her collarbone, and down to her cleavage.

“Oh absolutely, Mr. Holliday!” Taking the dress out of the brown wrapping, she gasped. “Oh, John!” It was her turn to sprinkle his gruff face with kisses.

The maroon silk looked downright sinful on his bride (and she thought the exact same thing about his matching waist coat). The Hollidays were a sight to behold in Tombstone. With her on his arm, Doc felt all the southern gentry he was raised in. Nothing could make him feel unworthy of power or love.

Settled in the dim theater, Y/N fanned herself, a rush of heat hitting her. A holler from the floor seats broke her trance and drew her eyes of the one she despised most. Johnny Ringo practically howled at her, tongue wagging like a rabid dog.

“Pay no mind to Mr. Ringo.” A gentle hand grasped her chin and forced her attention back to Doc, where it belong he reasoned. “Only I may purchase your soul.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered and hummed in delight. “You already have, Doc.” That settled his swirling doubts. Yes, he liked to think he held her soul inside his own. His soul clutching to hers in order to survive. He owned her, not in an oppressive sense. Not like how his father view his mother, but in the way that she was his and his alone and he could proudly say the same.

Yet, just shy of intermission his darling uttered a “oh fuck” under her breath. Doc chuckled, eyebrow quirked in amusement. Yet before he could comment on the lewd nature of his otherwise polite wife, she was grasping her skirts and rushing out of the box.

Before he could even move, Allie Earp ran after his wife. Looking at the remaining Earps- excluding Wyatt who looked all too close to committing something dangerous- Doc glared. “Something I don’t know?”

“Lady stuff?” Morgan suggested earning a grunt of support from Virgil.

At intermission, Doc found his wife with Allie. Allie had the audacity to grin at Doc, blue eyes twinkling. “Doctor is in.” She giggled.

And yes, normally Doc would have ate that up. Reveling in the limelight and delightful female attention. However, normally Doc was the unstable one and not his wife. Still, he couldn’t help himself from saying a charming, “It seems my favorite patient is ill.”

“I’m fine, Doc.” Y/N offered a grimace of a smile. Slowly standing, she took the fan from Allie. “Just got too hot all of a sudden.”

Nodding, if only to avoid adding another public confrontation to the history of their relationship, Doc ordered a tonic water from the bar and escorted his wife back to their seats. Allie just chittering all the way.

The final straw was down right offensive. Doc enjoyed few things more than waking up in the early hours of the morning when the sun was just beginning to think of rising and loving his wife. She was always so eager from a nights rest that she just folded into him. His lungs weren’t heavy from a full day allowing him to thrust and grunt for a glorious eternity.

Yet, every morning that past week when he rolled over she was gone. He’d call out her name practically mewling with need only to be met with silence. Ignoring the hurt that struck his heart, he’d go back to bed.

Finally, this morning was the last straw. He figured he’d stay awake, greet her entering their room. The longer he sat awake, pipe in hand, the wilder this thoughts went. Doc prided himself in a remarkably even temper but fear was ensnaring his rationality.

A dose of opium sounded wonderful right about now. It would just calm his nerves, make it so he wouldn’t lash out. Last thing he wanted to do to his daisy was be mean. Lord knows he’s hurt her enough. He was sure he had a vial tucked away somewhere.

By the time she entered their room, Doc was in tears. Red eyes narrowed into a glare at her. She gasped. “Doc, are you alright?”

A rumbling cough worked its way out his lungs. “Daisy, I am rolling.” He hissed. Standing from his spot by the window, he grabbed his cane for balance. “Awful late night for you though.”

“Are you high?”

“I hardly see the need in answering that.” He snipped. “It’s quite obvious we both are up to things we shouldn’t be.”

“Now, John, listen to me.”

“Is it to get back at me? Do you think my heart doesn’t hurt when you leave me?”

“John, please just trust me.” her voice wobbled with tears.

“I know I’ve not been the best husband to you-“

“You’ve been wonderful.”

“Stop lying.” The opium only made his accent stronger. “Please just be honest with me, my soul can’t bare it any longer.”

With a sad smile, Y/N crossed the floor to her husband. One hand tenderly held his cheek, wiping away at trailing tears. The other reached for his own, pressing a key into his palm. “Get dressed and follow me.”

Confused, dazed, spellbound by his bride he dressed quickly. She held her arm out to him knowing his pride would much prefer her to stabilize him than his cane. “I’ve not been truthful and I am so very sorry for that Doc, but I hope you’ll forgive me.”

They walked the dusty streets of Tombstone together. The early morning air left their lungs clear. Cactus clung to the early morning dew as the couple clung to each other. Near the edge of town, Y/N paused in front of a stately Greek Revival home.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She asked nuzzling into his neck.

“Yes, though it is difficult to find anything that compares to you darlin’.”

With warm cheeks, Y/N giggled. “Try the key Doc.”

“I beg your pardon?” Doc sputtered pulling away in shock.

“Try the key.”

A burst of speed had him rushing to the door. Rocking chairs lined the porch, tucked safely behind columns. The key slide in perfectly. Her name was all he could sigh, tears welling in his eyes again.

Joining him, she nudged him forward. “I’ll give you the tour.”

While still barren of furniture, the grand home had billowing curtains with long windows that ached of home. As Y/N rattled on about something to do with paint colors Doc waved a hand of dismissal not really caring how she wanted to paint.

“How?” He managed to grunt,masking his emotion with a forced cough.

“I was left an impressive about of money in a will.” A small smile tugged on her lips. “A great aunt everyone else hated. The only stipulation was to use it for my family.”

A tug on his hand led up him the stately staircase. “I was thinking our bedroom could be here if-“

“I can handle them darlin’. Don’t you worry about me.”

The next door was shut, Y/N’s eyes glittering with mischief. “This is your second surprise.”

“Oh if this is one of those sinful European things-“Doc paused as the door opened revealing the only painted room in the house.

gentle moss green walls greeted him. A canopy hung from the ceiling, the netting protecting a crib. “Daisy? Are you in a delicate way?” His green eyes flickered from her face to the perky bodice of her dress to her tummy.

A nod of her head confirmed. his heart nearly burst out his chest. A joyful laugh tickled out his throat. He didn’t give a damn what would be said about him now, his wife was carrying his baby. His.

Nudging her nose against his, she leaned in to capture his lips pulling softly on the plump skin. Words weren’t needed as they removed each layer of clothing from each other. Fingers interlocked as they lay together on the soft mossy green rug below them.

#doc holliday imagine #doc holliday x reader #doc holliday imagines #val kilmer x reader #val kilmer imagine #val kilmer imagines #tombstone imagines

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mswyrr · 2 months

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Why must Lucy and Cooper be Joel and Ellie and not, for example, Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp? (I'm thinking of them in the 1993 neo western classic "Tombstone" but their overall mythology as well). The decent cowboy with grit who inspires the fierce loyalty of a lovable rogue (who is only a rogue because of personal tragedy). Lucy has a little growing to do, but she can pull off steely decency that motivates the loyalty of a rogue already she just needs practice and to expand her experience of the Wasteland. If you don't arbitrarily limit her to female roles there's tons of options.

They're letting her draw on all kinds of stories as a protagonist like the John McClane references. Her story is so far about trying to be like a Wyatt earp - both gritty and decent. Golden rule, motherfucker. Why, in all of Westerns, are people saying she's a little girl?

A little girl who isn't (in season 1/game one of tlou) even the protagonist. Lucy MacLean is the lead protagonist? She's not a child sidekick to Cooper like Ellie is to Joel?? Even if Cooper tries to shove her into a daughter role to make sense of things, there's zero evidence in canon that she wants a father figure.

Ellie campaigned hard to be Joel's daughter because that's what she wanted. She'd never had a parent and she desperately wanted one. A father isn't what Lucy wants. She told herself she was leaving the vault to find her dad and she does love her family --and now she does want answers re: all that -- but she wanted to get tf out of there too imo. She's curious and wants more from life. She's still figuring herself out, but wherever she comes to, it won't be to wanting a simple return to the metaphorical "womb" of the vault she left and/or be a parent's child again - it's to grow up. Forge her own path, make her own mistakes. Figure out who she is. She already has a father; Ellie never did. She's an adult; Ellie is a child. She's the lead protagonist of an ensemble where the male characters are, respectively, her echo (Max) with a similar arc and her shadow (Cooper); Ellie was a sidekick to a protagonist in game 1/season 1.

It's amusing to me to think of Cooper trying to be like a dad to her -- but precisely because that isn't what Lucy wants and it would be hilarious if he tried in his super awkward, broken way to express admiration and respect like that. But for fandom to just automatically slot her into the role of sunshine sidekick child when she has her own story and it isn't that is weird to me. I don't see any justification for it narratively.

Do I think they're going to get together in canon? No, I think they're supposed to have the intense "good guy"/rogue dynamics with subtextual eroticism that are common between men in Westerns (like, say, Boyd and Raylan from Justified - Boyd being one of Walton Goggins' most celebrated roles; could they have chosen him because they wanted that kind of vibe for Lucy's lead?) only Lucy is a female lead (shrug) and like in those Westerns the canon love interests are already set BUT it will be fun to watch their "....how are two people so intimate and not fucking???" stuff go down and non-canon shipping will be fun -- and the canon relationships are well written (a show with two well written canon romances! one tragic and the other hopeful - delightful tbqh) so it can be enjoyable on multiple levels.

#lucy maclean #fallout tv #fallout 2024 #my meta #fallout meta

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filmtv2022 · 2 years

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To the Bitter End: Chapter Eight

18+ Minors Do Not Proceed

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist

Pairing: Doc Holliday x Earp!Reader

Chapter Notes: Things get out of hand at the Oriental when Doc won’t give up his game of poker. John and Y/N are forced yet again to face the realities of illness, but maybe this time it will lead to something good.

Story Summary: The youngest Earp sibling joins her older brothers in Tombstone with the hope that the new climate will ease her consumption/tuberculosis symptoms and reconnect her family. But as she settles into this new life, will she find something worth living for? Someone who can tame the loneliness?

Warnings: Swearing +Smut + Suggestive touching + Alcohol

Author's Note: Thanks for waiting for this chapter. Yet again, work has been over the top, and my mental health had to come first. Also, I apologize if there are a few more errors in this one, my proofreading skills are lacking tonight. Thanks for reading!

The Oriental was hazy with moisture that clung to the smoke floating in the air. The humidity causing an even greater amount of sweat to collect on your skin. The sound of slow music floated through the room causing your eyes to droop just a little. You could feel exhaustion working its way through your body as you sat next to Doc at the poker table. Morgan placed himself to your right, his eyes flitting between you and Doc. It had been 36 hours and John showed no signs of throwing in the towel, even though it was clear he was suffering. His skin was morbidly pale and clammy with perspiration. Simply put, John looked like death warmed over. The feeling of anxiety gnawed at the pit in your stomach because, without a question, nothing good was going to come of this marathon gambling spree.

The anxiety washed through your body as the hours ticked by, one bleeding into the next. Turning in your seat slightly, you pressed the side of your body against Doc. Your right hand looked for purchase on John’s thigh, not only to ground yourself but in the hope that maybe it would pull him out of this alcohol-driven fixation. Mindlessly your thumb began to work circles into John’s thigh before sliding further up his leg, lightly massaging the muscle as you went. The feeling of your hand sent John’s head spinning, making it difficult for him to concentrate on the game. Doc freed one of his hands from the table and slid it below the table on top of yours. Lacing his fingers with your own, he moved your hand back down towards his knee. You could feel his will break, just for a moment, as your lips pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder. You knew this was really not the time or place for this type of behavior, but if it got him to leave the Oriental and take you back to the Grand… it would be worth it. The sound of the other men around the table growing impatient refocused John on the game unfolding in front of him.

Turning his head towards you, he brought his face close before whispering in your ear, “Darlin’, play nice.” A small smirk crossed his face before adjusting the cards in his hand. As Doc’s eyes returned to the game, Wyatt walked through the door, his gaze immediately falling on the singer by the piano. Standing, you placed a kiss on the side of Doc’s head before crossing the room to intercept your brother. If Doc wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he would listen to Wyatt.

Wyatt tore his eyes away from the singer as you approached, the look of concern in your eyes shocked him to the core.

“Wyatt, Doc won’t quit. He’s been at it for 36 hours straight. The Clanton and the McLaury brothers came in an hour ago. I tried to get him to bed, but he won’t let go.” Your tone was matter-of-fact, devoid of emotion.

Your brother nodded his head without speaking and moved back towards John, you followed him back to the table. The sound of Doc coughing struck your ears as you lowered yourself down into the chair next to him.

“Wyatt, just in time. Pull up a chair” Doc drawled in the general direction of your brother, his head lolling to the side as he spoke.

Getting closer Wyatt drew in a deep breath before questioning, “Doc, you been hittin’ it awful hard, haven’t ya?”

“Nonsense. I’ve not yet begun to defile myself.”

“I was wondering if-” Wyatt brought his hand to John’s shoulder as he spoke.

“I will not be pawed at thank you very much”

“I’m sorry” Wyatt was quickly moving back from the table, dragging a chair closer. The feelings of frustration and desperation flared in your body as you took in the scene around you. Yet again Doc’s lack of self-preservation was causing problems.

Shifting in your seat you brought your body as close to John as you could without actually being in his lap, wrapping your left hand around the back of his bicep and letting your right sit on the middle of his chest. Reaching slightly your lips again found their way to the side of his neck, kissing and nipping the flesh there as your spoke.

“Hey, my loving man. I think it’s time we seek our entertainment elsewhere” Doc’s face moved towards you out of instinct and you lept at this opportunity. Capturing his lips with yours, you pulled John closer still urging him to give up the game & take you home. Breaking the scene in front of them, one of the men threw down his cards saying “I’m in”. Clearly, he was hoping to take advantage of a distracted Doc and win the hand.

Ike’s grating voice joined the conversation “Loving man, you been called”. He too was clearly annoyed by the situation and his bad luck.

Laughing, Doc laid his cards down on the table after tipping back the last of his drink.

“Oops” John’s laughter increased as he took in the look of anger growing on Ike’s face. Sweeping his hand across the table, Doc grabbed for the money he had won. Ike met his hand in the center of the table stopping him momentarily from collecting.

“What is that now? That 12 hands in a row, Holliday? Son-of-a-bitch, nobody’s that lucky.”

“Why, Ike, whatever do you mean?” Doc’s voice rang through the bar harshly and with a bit too much volume.

Somewhere in the midst of this conversation, Virgil had descended upon the table. His deep, rumbling voice worked to soothe the situation as he spoke.

“Take it easy, boys”

But Doc just couldn’t let it go.

“Maybe poker’s just not your game, Ike. I know… let’s have a spelling contest” John shot back with every ounce of antagonizing hatred he could muster for the man. You knew the moment the words left his mouth that this was taking a turn for the worse. The hand that had been on Doc’s chest slipped back down to his thigh, squeezing hard as a warning to Doc, proceed with caution. But the mix of alcohol and exhaustion impaired his ability to read your cue.

“How ‘bout if I just wring your scrawny neck?” Standing forcefully, Ike reached out to grab Doc by the front of his vest. Wyatt’s hand stopped his path, but John only escalated the situation by laughing harder.

Virgil tried yet again to calm the room.

“Enough Ike”

“Are you takin’ his part? Huh? I’m the one who got cheated! You goddamn pimps! You all in this together”

“Nobody’s in anything. Ike, you’re drunk. Go on home & sleep it off.” Virgil moved his hand to guide Ike out by the shoulder.

All the while John was organizing the stack of bills he’d won in the hand, seemingly without a worry in the world about what was taking place in front of him. You on the other hand were ready for the fight, unbeknownst to John, you had reached across his body and grasped the handle of the knife he carried on his left side. To the outsider, it would look like you were just wrapping him in an embrace, but in reality, you were preparing yourself. If Ike made another move towards John he’d find himself with a blade stuck through his middle. Typically, you’d leave the violence for others to handle, but tonight your patience was wearing thin. 36 hours of guard duty left you ready to spill blood if it came to that point.

“Get your goddamn hands off me! Don’t you ever put your hands on me, see? Don’t you ever try to manhandle a cowboy, ‘cause we’ll cut your goddamn pimp’s heart out. Understand me, pimp?”

“Don’t you threaten me, you little son-of-a-bitch!” The normally stoic Virgil had broken and was pushing Ike back by the collar as Wyatt stood.

“All right! All right! Come on, easy, Virg, easy! You just go on home, and forget about it, huh, Ike? Come on, Virg”

“I ain’t gonna forget nothin’!”

Satisfied that the immediate threat was diminished you removed your hand from the blade. As you sank back in your seat Doc realized what you had been doing, a sense of pride settled in his chest at the idea of you protecting him in such a way.

“Well, that certainly was a bust. Come, darlin’. Let’s seek our entertainment elsewhere.” Without warning, Doc began to cough. At first, it sounded almost innocuous to your ears as you’d both grown accustomed to the other’s day-to-day struggles. But quickly the hacking built in intensity, soon John’s shoulders were heaving with the force of the coughs, and blood was pooling in his mouth. Having stood to take care of your space, this change made your blood run cold, stopping you in your tracks. Reaching forward you grabbed John by the shoulders working to hold him still in his chair. Doc wouldn't have it and attempted to stand from the table. His face was stricken with panic, which only served to worry you further.

“Talk to me Doc. What’s wrong? What do you need?” Fear sharpened the edges of your words causing them to come out in a way that sounded almost angry to the ears of those around you.

“Nothin’. Not a thing,” using a handkerchief Doc soaked up the blood that had spilled from his mouth upon speaking, “I’m right as the mail.”

Your hold on John tightened, but it wasn’t enough to keep him standing. As Doc lost consciousness the weight of his body slipped from your hands, and all you could do was try to help slow his fall. Wyatt saw what was happening and rushed to your side.

“Doc? Doc!” Morgan joined Wyatt bending down next to Doc, checking to see if he was going to come around quickly or if the doctor needed to be called. Wyatt began giving directions to the room in general as he worked to help John.

“All right, get him up. Let’s get him to the hotel.” Wyatt and Morgan grabbed John by the underarms and the legs before standing to carry him out of the Oriental.

Your body stood frozen for a minute next to the poker table as you watched your brothers walk out the door towards the Grand. Up to this point you had only ever experienced the other side of this coin. You’d been the one whose coughing had made a scene in public. You’d been the one whose limp body had been carted off to bed to await the doctor. And most notably for you, this time it was your turn to wonder if you’d ever get to see his ice blue eyes again…wonder if you’d ever again get to feel his body wrapped around yours … and to wonder if he’d ever get to hear you say “I love you” again.

Finally, your trance broke, and you took off after your brothers and John.

-----------------------------

Back at the Grand Wyatt & Morgan worked to situate Doc on the bed.

“You can go now. Go find the doctor, I’ll take care of John until you get back.” You voice was quiet as you spoke not having the mental energy for more at the moment.

Wyatt nodded in agreement as he started towards the door. He stopped briefly as he got to you, and patted the side of your shoulder in a feeble attempt at comforting you. You could see how much the sight of his best friend pained him too.

“Y/N, I’ll be just outside the door if you need me. I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you alone right now”

You understood what he was implying. It wasn’t a good idea to leave you alone in case Ike or one of the others came looking for Doc, there was no telling what they were capable of at a time like this.

“Thank you, Morgan.” The two of you shared a small, sad smile as he moved towards the door. Once the door was shut you made your way to the bed.

Your eyes swept the length of John’s body before your hands took action. He looked so vulnerable laying there in the bed, sweat dripping from his skin and soaking his shirt. The sound of his ragged breathing was almost too much for you to bear. Slowly, deliberately, your hands began to work at Doc’s clothes. First, your fingertips closed around his diamond tie pin, pulling it out & gently placing it on the bedside table before moving to loosen the tie itself. The black fabric was soft against your skin as you slipped it over his head and set it on the table too. Your hands gently danced over his chest, relishing the feeling of him before unbuttoning his vest. Your focus was on the silky material in your hands, causing you to miss Doc’s eye-opening. He watched you for a moment, taking note of the concern in your eyes as you worked.

“Y/N” Your name was all he managed to croak out as his hands moved up to cover your own.

The sound of his voice broke the damn of emotions for you. Tears began streaming down your face as deep sobs wracked your body. Your hands clenched in fists on his vest, holding on to him as if he might float away. You could feel your knees going weak as you leaned against the edge of the bed. With what little strength Doc had left in his body he pushed his body up from the mattress.

“No, John stop, you need to rest.”

Yanking your hands out of his you pulled at his vest, working to get it off. John helped the process by sliding his arms out of the garment. Once he was free of the fabric you pushed him gently back down to the bed, adjusting the pillow behind his head.

The room fell silent again as you moved towards the foot of the bed, untying the laces of his shoes & sliding them from his feet. Without hesitation you removed his socks, allowing more of his skin to be touched by the cool air of the room in the hope that it would bring his temperature down.

“Y/N, I -”

“John… please.” Doc knew what you were asking, you were asking for permission to help him. You were asking for him to give over control to you in the moment.

You took Doc’s silence as your sign to continue.

Taking your time you carefully removed John’s trousers, starting with his belt. The sound of the metal fastening clinked as you let the two ends fall from your hands. Drifting from the belt, your fingers delicately ran over the waistband pulling his shirt out before undoing the buttons along the front of the pants. You ran your hands up and down his legs once before gripping the fabric at his hips and working it down his body. You felt John’s body tense at the sensation. The feeling of you working the fabric down his frame was all-consuming for John. One final tug freed Doc of the garment.

Moving away from the bed you placed the pants on the chair by the wardrobe before moving to disrobe yourself. John wanted nothing more than to help you as he had the other night, but for now, he settled for watching you. His heart was filled with love at the sight of you. Hoping that Wyatt would be returning with the doctor, you decided to cover yourself with a housecoat before walking back to the bed to join Doc.

You needed to feel him. Doc felt the mattress dip under your weight as your knees pressed into the surface. Turning to face him, you settled yourself as close to him as possible. From here the two of you fell into sync with each other. Doc moved you so that you were nearly on top of him, your hair tickling his nose. Taking deep breaths, the scent of you swirled around him, sobering him up and easing his discomfort. For you, the heat of his body dulled the ache in your heart, but it also brought fresh tears to your eyes. It was here you stayed for the remainder of the night. You tried to keep your eyes open waiting for the doctor, but as time passed it became impossible. The pair of you finding sleep once again in each other’s embrace.

-------------------

The sound of knocking at the door hit your ears as you woke. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you made your way to the door. On the other side stood Wyatt, Morgan, and the doctor who had helped you not that long ago. Stepping aside the physician greeted you as he entered the room.

“Good morning, Mrs. Holliday. I apologize for the delay, Mrs. Abbott was having her baby & things took a turn for the worse. I came as soon as I could.”

Both you and Doc noticed the way the doctor addressed you. You were a little surprised by the way it filled you up to hear yourself be called Mrs. Holliday. You knew it was simply a misunderstanding, but damn, it felt amazing. Your brothers both chuckled quietly when they heard it causing you to turn back to them. Your eyebrows raised in a questioning arch. Wyatt cleared his throat stopping the laugh in its tracks.

“We’ll be by later to check on you both.”

“Thanks.” nodding, you shut the door as your brothers walked away from the room.

Turning back to face the bed your eyes took in the people before you. Doc was propped up on a pile of pillows allowing him to sit up a bit while the doctor listened to his lungs with a stethoscope. Doc’s right foot was hanging out from under the covers to help regulate his temperature. Sliding a chair across the floor to the bed, you sat down next to Doc before taking his hand in your own.

Sitting back, the doctor pulled the stethoscope from his ears, draping it around his neck as he spoke.

“Your condition’s quite advanced. I’d say you lost some 60 percent of your lung tissue, maybe more.”

“What’s the verdict?” Doc’s voice was calm as he asked the dreaded question.

“Two years. Two days. Hard to say, if you stop now: your smokin’, your drinkin’, your gamblin’, your night life. You need complete rest.”

A small cough left your own lungs as the doctor continued to speak. This time his attention was moving between the pair of you.

“What I mean is, you must attempt to, uh, deny…your, uh, marital impulses.”

John cut off the stammering doctor with his harsh reply.

“Get out of my sight”

With no more words, the man grabbed his bag and scurried out of the room, leaving the two of you behind.

“Doc, I…” your voice trailed off as you were unable to finish that thought.

“I know darlin’. Come here.” Doc patted the bed next to him as he sat up a bit more. Carefully, you found your place next to him. Your head resting on his shoulder as his arms encircled your body. John too was unsure of what to say and decided to let the moment sit without words until he figured it out. Instead, his left hand trailed down your body, untying the knot holding your housecoat together. He pushed the fabric away before moving on to caress your legs. His long fingers bunched your chemise up higher on your thighs as his hands explored the soft flesh there. Your breath hitched in your throat as arousal flushed through your body at his touch. You knew this was exactly what the doctor had just warned Doc of, but all self-control left as John continued to explore your body.

Doc wasn’t sure exactly why he was doing this, except for the fact that having you close was magnetic, soothing even. Soon your own hands were moving. Dipping under the covers that had slipped down, you palmed over John’s groin earning a deep moan from him. The last bit of John’s own self-control fell as he crashed his lip into yours. Staying there only long enough to draw a moan from you as he pulled you onto his lap, one of his hands sliding under your chemise to touch you. Moving from your lips, Doc began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck & along the top of your shoulder. Each kiss left a line of fire in its wake, and further ignited your desire for the man in front of you. All the while his thumb worked circles around your sensitive bud, causing you to grind down on this hand. Needing to feel his skin on yours, your hands moved down to play with the hem of his shirt. Understanding your silent question, John leaned back just far enough to let you remove the garment. The piece of clothing was lost to the far corner of the room as you tossed it out of the way before returning your lips to his. Your hands slid up & down his chest, taking in the strong muscles just below the skin. Leaning down you mirrored his earlier movements, kissing along his neck. This pulled yet another moan from Doc as you hit a particularly sensitive spot. You’d loved to stay there longer, but you could feel John’s hands tugging at your chemise as it was now his turn to rid you of your clothing. You leaned back to free yourself from the garment, but a deep series of coughs returned you to reality.

John’s body shook with the force of the coughs, drawing more blood into his mouth. Letting your chemise fall back down, you quickly slid off of him and grabbed for his handkerchief before returning to the bed. Doc took the cloth and wiped away the blood, exhaling deeply as the fit ended. His head fell back against the headboard as he swallowed thickly before speaking.

“We must talk, darlin’. It appears, uh…we must redefine the nature of our association.” His tone was mixed with humor and sadness.

“I suppose you’re correct. I’m sorry Doc, I should never have let my body get away from me like that. It's just being near you… God, I can hardly think straight.” You breathed a small laugh through your nose at the confession.

“Don’t worry, darlin’ I feel the same way. And if I recall correctly, I was the instigator in our previous activity. I just simply couldn’t handle that man telling me to keep my hands to myself. You know how I can be ‘Mrs. Holliday’ .”

You both laughed at the the thought of the bumbling doctor trying to tell Doc of all people to ignore his “marital impulses”

Breaking the laugh John spoke again, “My god do I like the sound of that…’Mrs. Holliday.’ ”

All you could do was bite the inside of your lip as you smirked at him, your head shaking side to side at his words. You tried to make light of this all, but truthfully a thread of sadness sat in your mind. The first night you slept together here in Tombstone Doc had confessed his regrets at leaving you behind. And even though you never doubted his truthfulness, there was always a part of you that shied away from embracing the idea of marrying Doc. Those feelings of worry about holding him back never truly left your mind.

“What do you think, darlin’? ” John’s eyes were locked on yours as he spoke. His words rang with such sincerity it nearly made you cry.

“John, what are you saying?” You sharply inhaled as you comprehended what he was asking.

“Y/N Earp, will you do me the great honor of being my wife?” John’s southern drawl curled around the words in a deeply loving way.

“Yes-.” Tears welled in your eyes, your eyebrows knitting together in an effort to keep them from falling. “Yes, of course I will.”

Doc took one of the silver rings from his hand before reaching out for yours. John slipped it onto your left hand, kissing it once for emphasis. The ring was far too big and would need to be replaced with something that fits, but for now, it was perfect.

You couldn’t resist any longer, you grabbed John’s face in your hands, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Your lips moved against his as you spoke, “I love you, John Holliday.”

“To the bitter end, Y/N, you and me.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@sassyactorsandmanyfandoms

#doc holliday #doc holliday x reader #tombstone 1993 #tombstone #val kilmer

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dragon-kazansky · 1 year

Text

His Little Dragon

Doc Holliday x OC

Dedicated to @callsignscupcake

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Doctor John Holliday hasn't seen his darling Little Dragon for many years. Once as thick as thieves, they were quite the pair, but that long since ended when he left. Now, with opportunity blooming in Tombstone, it would seem they have a second chance at the love they lost. However, a threat looms over the town, and if he wants his Dragon back, he has to win the heart of little Baylie too. Nothing is ever easy.

Word count: 1.7k

Chapter Two - Working hard

♡♡♡

Rachael returns to the hotel room. Baylie was waiting on the bed, exactly where she had been when Rachael left. She chuckles when she sees her darling girl.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting, sweetie."

"No, mama. Did you get it?" Baylie asks, looking up at Rachael.

"I did. I'll start tomorrow. For now, we should go eat. You must be hungry after our long journey." Rachael holds out her hand. Baylie slides off the bed and takes it.

"Yes, mama."

The pair leave the hotel and into town. There was a decent place to eat not too far away, so Rachael took Baylie there. It was unlikely there would be any trouble there, so she could rest easy knowing Baylie could eat in peace.

Baylie chooses the table and Rachael orders them something. The pair sit down.

"Are we going to live here?" Baylie asks.

Rachael looks at the girl. "I'm not sure yet, honey. But I'm certain I can make enough money here for us to settle down wherever. I just have to work really hard for us."

Baylie smiles brightly at her mama.

"Okay, mama."

Food is put onto the table and the two of them dig in. Baylie remains her bright self as they eat their food. When they're done Rachael stacks the plates in the middle of the table and let's Baylie tell a tale of what she saw from the hotel window while she was gone. It sounds like Tombstone is quite a town.

Just as Rachael gets up for the to head back, a voice, different than before, calls out. It's another familiar voice, and it made sense to Rachael that if Wyatt was in town, so were his brothers.

"A sight for sore eyes!"

Rachael looks up and smiles at the sight of Vergil Earp. She chuckles softly as he comes over to greet her.

"Vergil. I suppose Morgan is in town too? Wyatt has already made his appearance."

Vergil chuckles. "That he is. What a strange coincidence for everyone to be here at the same time. You know, Doc's in town too."

"So I hear."

"Mama, who is he?" Baylie asks, looking up at the tall gentleman in front of her mama.

"Oh Baylie, this is Vergil Earp, and old friend of mine."

Vergil tips his hat to Baylie.

"Evening, little miss."

Baylie smiles up at him.

"Hello!" She greets.

"This is my daughter, Baylie," Rachael introduces.

"Daughter?" Vergil looks at Rachael with a questioning gaze.

"Yes," Rachael can tell instantly what he's thinking. "Not by blood, mind you. She needed help and I was there."

"I see." Vergil looks back at Baylie. "A pleasure, little miss."

Baylie giggles. She seems to like being called that. You chuckle at her bashful smile.

"It's good to see you Vergil, but we must be getting back to our room now."

"Allow me to escort you?" He offers.

"Won't your wife be missing you?" She smiles.

"She can miss me for a moment longer. I haven't seen you in years."

Rachael chuckles and accepts Vergil's offer. Baylie holds onto Rachael's hand as they walk with Vergil back to the hotel. All the while, the two adults catch up, Baylie listens in.

"How have you been, Rachael?" Vergil asks.

"Okay. I've been... roaming."

"All this time?"

"Mmhm. It hasn't been easy. Baylie has been with me nearly a year now. She's all I got. I need to settle down Vergil, it ain't no life constantly moving on the road, not with a young girl. I'm to here to make money for a home. Somewhere we can live peacefully and enjoy our life."

Vergil nods his head quietly.

"You boys been busy? What are you doing in Tombstone anyway?"

"Wyatt not tell ya?"

"He mentioned claiming a fortune. You fellas living here?" She asks him.

"We are. We have our own little homes too. Life is good here, you will like it too."

"I'm not sure we are settling here, just making my money here," Rachael explains.

"I understand."

Vergil stops with her outside of the hotel and they turn to face each other. He smiles at her fondly.

"You plannin' on seeing the Doc?" He asks.

"Not planning to. I do quite well blending into crowds, Vergil. He doesn't need to know I'm here."

"You don't even want to see him?"

Rachael sighs. "I'm not sure my heart could handle it. When you love someone with your entire being, and then discover they don't want what you want, it's hard. I would have stayed with him forever if I knew he loved me the same."

Vergil considers her quietly.

"Enough of that. Np more talk of Doc. Perhaps I'll see you around, Vergil."

"You know," he starts before you can leave his side, "even in a crowded room that man would find you. Tombstone isn't as big as it feels. I'm just saying."

"Your words are noted. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Little miss," he bows head once at Baylie and then takes his leave. Rachael follows him with her eyes and then takes Baylie's hand again, heading inside.

Once in the room, Baylie climbs onto the bed and turns to her mama.

"Who is Doc?" She asks.

Rachael wipes her hands on her skirt as she looks up at Baylie. Her heart is racing in her chest, but Baylie doesn't realise that.

"He's... an old friend."

"Did he hurt you?" She asks.

"Kinda. You should rest, darlin'. Big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Am I coming with you?" She asks.

"That's the idea, sweetpea. You have to stay close though," Rachael tells her.

"I know, mama."

Rachael leans down to give Baylie a kiss on the head before helping her remove her boots. She tucks Baylie into bed and kisses her head once more. Baylie gets comfy while her mama dresses down for bed. They had very few belongings with them, so they would to go shopping soon.

The pair look at each other with a smile.

"Goodnight, Baylie."

"Night, mama!"

Rachael turns the light out and they go to sleep.

Come morning, the pair are up bright and early. Rachael makes sure Baylie eats before they take the horse round to the saloon. The Oriental was high end, but clearly for the rowdy crowd. The kind who stay up till sunrise gambling their money away. Luckily for Rachael, it was quiet during the day.

Billy stands outside with a wagon.

"Decent horse," he comments.

"The best we got for now. The wagon won't be a problem."

Billy nods silently as he helps get the horse on the wagon. When it's all been done and checked, Rachael helps Baylie onto the wagon bench and then climbs on too. Billy hands over the job note and gives Rachael a vague direction of where to go. She nods and they head off.

As long as Rachael delivered and picked up before the day was out, she would be paid in full for the day. She was in no hurry to get the job immediately and rode on so Baylie may at least get a good look of the town.

Baylie was fascinated by Tombstone. There was life all around her. Riding past families makes Rachael smile. If families can settle here, maybe she could. All she wanted was the best for Baylie.

They reach the first stop and Rachael hops off, telling Baylie to sit and wait. The young girl does as she's told and Rachael walks around to the wagon to take it the first delivery.

While Rachael handles business, Baylie looks around her. There was so much to look at and admire, but her eyes are drawn to a couple of gentlemen talking in the road down the adjacent street.

They're both dressed finely, and Baylie can't help thinking one of them resembles Vergil who she met last night. The other is wearing a bit of colour in his outfit, that's what catches Baylie's eye.

Her attention is broken from the two men as Rachael reappears and climbs back onto the wagon. She forgets about the men as they ride on.

All the jobs are completed a little after noon and Rachael returns the wagon to The Oriental. She helps Baylie back onto the ground and heads inside to fetch her pay.

"I hear it's going to be a quite a game tonight," Cupcake says, following Billy around the bar.

"It always is when he's playin'."

Rachael catches Billy's eye and hands over her completed list. Billy thanks her and takes it, counting up her pay and handing it over.

"Your goods are in the wagon."

"Thank you. I'll have more errands in a couple of days."

"Very well, this will do us just nicely," Rachael tucks the money away safely.

"Rachael, won't you swing by tonight. A lot of interesting characters will be in tonight. You won't want to miss it," Cupcake states, leaning over toward her.

"No thank you, Cupcake."

"Oh please!"

"I shall be spending the evening with my daughter."

Cupcake takes not of the young girl beside her.

"Well, hello! You'll have to excuse me, I didn't see you there."

Baylie chuckles as she looks up at Cupcake. The lady was dressed in her best clothes, a hat was pinned into her hair and she held a closed fan in her hand.

"I'm Baylie!"

They all chuckle, even Billy who usually has a stick up his backside.

Rachael and Baylie bid them a good day and take their leave. Rachael helps Baylie onto the horse, named Whiskey by lively girl, and takes the lead back toward the hotel. Baylie laughs as they pass through town. She always did enjoy riding Whiskey like this.

Upon reaching the hotel Rachael ties the horse up and helps Baylie down.

"I must be dreaming."

Rachael freezes. That voice. She knows that voice. Baylie looks up at her mama wondering why she stopped. She takes her hand in her smaller one and tries to get her attention.

"I must be hallucinating," he says, staring at the sight before him.

Rachael turns slowly.

There is he. Baylie peeks around her mama and spots the man she had seen earlier that day. The finely dressed man with colourful tie.

"John..."

Suddenly Rachael feels like she had gone back 4 years as the man she once loved more than anything stands before her.

"My Little Dragon."

♡♡♡

@bayisdying - @callsignscupcake - @mrsjaderogers - @cycbaby - @mtnofgrace @kiichirose - @askmarinaandothers - @themusingofagothicsoul - @gizmodear - @beaner-life-23 -

#doc holliday x rachael #doc holliday x oc #tombestone 1993 #his little dragon #tombstone #doc holliday

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cornershopcowboy · 2 years

Text

Would You Be So Kind - Docatt

Comf/sickfic - Doc Holliday/Wyatt Earp (Tombstone 1993)

“I’m not going to spoon-feed you. Sit up.” Wyatt sat by the bed, holding a bowl of soup, waiting for the inevitable witty response. “Why Wyatt…” There it was. “I thought that was the whole point of this little exercise.” The southern drawl was rougher, hoarser than usual. The simple nature of it makes Wyatt’s heart break inside his chest. “The point of ‘this little exercise’ is for you to get some rest, Doc.” He says as the rail-thin doctor sits up against the headboard with a suppressed struggle, taking the bowl gently from Wyatts hands, lifting the spoon to his mouth with shaking hands. Doc's hands never shook, not unless he was really sick. Wyatt’s stomach churned, a hand going out to take Docs gently, feeling the tremor run through him at the small gesture alone, the only sound was his companions rattling breath and the nicking of a spoon against porcelain.

“Doc, where are you going?” The soup bowl is empty in the other man's hand as he swings his legs out the bed and stands up, stretching. He’d never tell Wyatt how his head spins, and it's all he can do not to press a hand to his temple and wince. “Going to grab a sweater, Wyatt. It's the middle of winter in case you haven’t noticed.” The stubborn doctor persists, coughs wracking his frame as he makes it five steps from the bed before stopping, and pitching forward, almost in slow motion. Wyatt reacts fast, faster than he ever had to anything in his life before, a hand wrapping around Doc’s thin waist, letting the soup bowl clatter to the floor as he pulls the man back up with minimal effort. For a man of his height and age he should not be this light. Pulling Doc up to standing, his hand found his waist, holding him firmly as his other hand brushed the hair back from his sweaty forehead. He was running a worse fever than normal.

He hadn’t realised how long he’d been staring, at Doc or at his lips, before they parted to let a whisper of a sigh out, a remark already on the tip of his tongue. “Why Wyatt.. you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen..” Wyatt can feel his face go hot, flushing right up to the tips of his ears. “You’d look even more beautiful picking up my bowl and getting me some more soup.” The glimmer in his eyes as he wets his lower lip is enough to have Wyatt sweating under the collar, regaining his composure enough to right his companion and retrieve the bowl. That man was going to be the death of him.

By the time he returned, Doc was laying down in bed, his night shirt off beside him as his chest rattles with each rise and fall of his breath. His hair is matted across his forehead, slick with sweat from the fever that has seemingly picked up again. Wyatt sets the soup aside, clearly the other man had changed his mind. “Wyatt..” the other man croaks, eyes squinted, “you’re looking more… multiple than usual.” He waves his hand around where the other Wyatt’s should be, coming up with nothing but thin air. Wyatt’s heart breaks. His hand caresses Doc’s cheek, feeling him burn up under his touch. He closes his eyes under Wyatt’s fingertips, sighing and curling up further. “Why do you stay with me?” he murmurs, hoarsely, shivering until Wyatt pulls the blanket up over his broad shoulders. “It's not because you have nothing better to do, because you do. Wyatt..” his eyes flick up to the brunette’s, ice meeting sable brown. “Wyatt, you're beginning to look like you care for me. Is this true? Are the rumours what they say they are?” He mock-gasps, sending himself into another coughing fit as Wyatt presses Doc's handkerchief to his lips, collecting the droplets of blood and wiping his lips after before setting it aside.

You're beginning to look like you care for me. Is this true?

It was true, and Wyatt took a moment to ponder how to go about saying so. “Why I do find myself rather er- fond of you Doc.” The glimmer in the other’s eye only encourages his words. “I would even say I love you. You’re- well Doc I do believe you’re the only man I’ve ever loved like I do. And it hurts me to see you like this, a great deal more than you’d expect and when you’re through this fever I want you to count on me kissing you senseless.” Unable to look at the other man's potential expression, he leans forwards and presses a whisper of a kiss to the Doctor's smart mouth, tasting soup and the faintest tinge of copper. For now that would have to do.

#tombstone 1993 #docatt #doc holliday #wyatt earp #sickfic #fic writing #val kilmer #tombstone #fluff

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fanficdumbchic · 2 years

Note

Saw that you are open to Tombstone requests! Could I get a fic with an independent fem reader x Wyatt where she wants to deal with annoying men on her own but he can't help but step in. (Idk if that's too specific??? I just like that trope)

Wyatt Can't Stay Out of Your Business

Headcanon - Wyatt Earp x Fem Reader - SFW

AN: This is a great request and I got excited to write it the minute I saw it. Thank you so much @huckleberry-holliday and I hope you enjoy.

You had walked the streets of Tombstone and dealt with its hazards just fine, long before Mr. Earp ever set foot in town.

You had put your fair share of cowboys and ruffians in their place and they did not dare cross you unless they were up for the challenge.

You were too fast of a shot and too hard of a woman to tolerate anything less than respect.

Many a cowboy had scars from your bullets and none that possessed those scars and lived to tell the tale would advise any other to incur your ire.

You were walking down the main stretch in you finest dress; your Sunday's best. Some newcomers who had not yet become familiar with your reputation and the warnings that preceded them had foolishly tried your patience. They whooped and hollered, drunk and crude. They called after you and assumed you a common whore. When you rejected their advances, politely at that, they thought they would 'teach you a lesson'.

Immediately an unfamiliar man rushed to the scene, pulling pistols on them and staring them down with an intensity that caught your eye.

They froze and backed away from you, "We ain't mean no harm, Earp. We're gettin' on." He allowed them to walk away, holstering his pieces but maintaining a stern glare as they did so.

He tipped his hat to you, "Howdy miss. You alright?" You nodded politely, "I'm fine, there was no other outcome to be expected." He too was ignorant of your standing, "Oh miss, don't underestimate these rabble. You could have been in some very real danger young lady." You scoffed at him, "I'll have you know I can handle myself just fine, sir. I am no naive 'young lady' and I assure you, I am the most dangerous thing in this town. Good day sir."

You marched off, huffing at his indignity. If there was anything you were tired of, it was the condescending tones of men who had yet to know better.

A few nights later, you were sitting in the front row of the Bird Cage Theater to watch Mr. Fabian perform. It was rare such talent made its way into Tombstone and you didn't want to miss a second of it.

However, as you walked in front of Curly Bill to return to your seat after intermission, he thought he would pull you into his lap. He had a vice grip on you and insisted on whispering appalling things in your ear. Wyatt had already seen the situation unfolding from his balcony seat.

You warned Bill firmly and only once that he needed to leave you be or suffer the consequence. But he did not listen. You were reaching for the knife in Bill's belt when Wyatt soared down the drapery beside his booth.

He pulled his revolver on Bill, "Get yer hands offa her!" You utilized the distraction and snatched the knife from Bill's belt, sinking it into his thigh as you chided Wyatt, "I don't need your help."

Bill squealed in pain and you ran fast down the aisle of the theater. Johnny Ringo jumped from his seat next to Bill and immediately aimed his pistol for your back. Wyatt growled at him, "Don't even think about it!" Johnny looked him dead in the eye with a cocky grin and immediately fired off 2 shots in your direction, missing you by mere inches.

He ran after you, dodging Wyatt's bullets. Wyatt chased after, knowing Ringo was after you.

You ran down the main stretch of Tombstone, Ringo firing shots in rapid succession, his bullets kicking up the dirt in front of you as they barely missed. Wyatt ran for his horse and took off towards you, scooping you up and firing shots back to force Ringo to take cover.

You both took off out of Tombstone, his horse's hooves leaving a clouds of dirt behind you. When he was sure you weren't being followed, he stopped by a wooded patch, dismounting his horse.

He offered his hand to you and you scoffed as you jumped from the horse without his help.

He paused for a moment and began, "Miss, I don't think you incapable. Your skills are mighty impressive and I don't underestimate them by any means."

You were caught off guard and asked, "Then why do you keep finding your way into my business? I can handle myself..."

He smiled softly, "I know you can, Miss. But I can't lie, I'd be pretty hurt if anything happened to ya." You smiled coyly, "And why is that, Mr. Earp?"

You saw a slight look of panic in his eyes and just as you were going to say it, he pressed his lips to yours.

#Tombstone 1993 #Wyatt Earp #x fem reader #johnny ringo #curly bill #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon

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squeakyfir · 1 year

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I'm your huckleberry (Tombstone 1993) (Doc Holliday)

Description:

The joys of modern inventions and miracles are often taken for granted. Your hungry or thirsty? Get something from the fridge or make it. You need to go somewhere? Drive or call an uber. Your hurt? Go to the doctor.

Your bored? Watch a movie, play video games, watch videos on the internet, talk to people without ever leaving your house.

Some much time is in our hands... but back in the 19th century... you wouldn't last very long.

Diseases are rampant, gun violence is higher, no modern technology, barely any good medicine, almost all of your favorite food doesn't exist and most of the people are rude as hell. But... That doesn't mean all of them were so bad. Love was not something most people in this time really cared about. At least, in the town of Tombstone, Arizona.

After falling asleep with a nice looking stone you bought at a small stand at the carnival, your whole world becomes the opposite. Six people from the past discover you unconscious and alone in the blistering heat and offer help but it was their help that let you meet the most amazing man you've ever met.

John Henry "Doc" Holliday.

Chapter 5

Previous ~ Next

"Look out ladies" you yelled as you slammed the door open and entered the cottage, arms outstretched like royalty and being dumb on purpose. "I have returned"! The women laughed and the Earp brothers were right behind you. "Don't do that" Wyatt said like he was scolding a child, "You could break the door".

"I was careful" you said dismissively and then turned your attention to the wives. "Guess what girls! I got a date with a hot and sexy man! WOOP WOOP"!

"A date" Mattie asked.

"You know. When a guy asks you out and you both spend time with each other. You know". They understood and got excited "You did" Allie asked excitedly. "With who"?

"Doc Holliday"!

The woman were speechless in shock and confusion. "What's wrong"?

"Isn't he still with Kate" Louisa asked Morgan.

"Doesn't sound like it" Morgan said, "They were pretty stuck on each other".

"Who's Kate? His girlfriend or something"?

"If you mean lover, then yes" Morgan said.

"Oh". You said feeling suddenly upset and sat down on the couch besides Allie. Wyatt could see that this really did upset you suddenly and decided to share his input. "Believe me when I say this, (Y/n)", you looked over at Wyatt. "I've known him for a very long time. And I can promise you that he keeps his word".

"I hope so".

"But this is still wonderful" Allie said, "We need to get you a dress and-"

"I already told you guys that I hate dresses and I already told him that I won't wear a dress and he was ok with it. So HA"!

"Oh, come on, (y/n)" Louisa begged, "Will you at least let us do your hair"?

"So you can make me look like a discount Lady Gaga"?

"What" Morgan asked surprised and trying not to laugh.

"Nevermind. It's just another thing from the future". You turned your attention back to the woman. "I still don't think it's a good idea".

"Oh, come on, (y/n)" Louisa begged, "Your hair is so beautiful, you have to do something to it at least".

"Really" you asked carelessly. "Watch this". With their attention on you, you flipped your hair around stylishly and looked back at them to say, "That's style right there". Morgan tried not to laugh.

"Oh please, (Y/n)" Allie begged and stood up, "Let us do your hair. If you won't wear a dress then let us do your hair at least".

"That won't matter" you said, "It wouldn't look right with what I'm wearing and I would look even stupider than I already am".

"You don't look stupid, but please let us do your hair" Allie asked.

"I'm sorry but no" you said genuinely. Allie and Louisa sighed sadly and knew that they couldn't convince you. "Very well, but you'll have to make it up to us at some point" Allie said.

"Alright. You have a deal. But for now, I got to kill time. So I'm gonna play some games on my phone". You went and sat down next to the girls and the Earp brothers walked over to see the small device in action once again. The small device was illuminated with bright colors and they couldn't follow along with what your doing.

They couldn't watch for long since the ladies had to figure out what to wear and you pulled out your solar panel charger to charge your phone for awhile until night finally came and Doc came to the cottage to walk with you all. It was a bit cold outside and you didn't mind since you do enjoy cold weather. You walked alongside the Earps and their wives and Doc offered his coat to you to keep you warm and you accepted even though you didn't need it. As you all walked in, there were a lot of cowboys taking up the benches on the ground level but the Earps told you that they were going up to the birdcage balconies to have better views.

As you all sat down, Morgan and Virgil and their wives had their own booth and you with Doc and Wyatt with his wife had your own booth, you admired the whole theater. It was so nostalgic and enjoyable to look at. "I've never been to a live performance before".

"I'm assuming it's different in the future" Wyatt said.

"You have no idea. I can show some of them to you guys later".

"Here darlin'" Doc said as he took his coat off your shoulders and gently guided you to the seat closest to the balcony. "Sit here".

"Oh why thank you" you said sweetly. Doc slipped his coat back on and gave you a brief smile and sat down beside you. "Wyatt" a voice said from beside Doc. "I'd like you to meet Mayor Klump and his wife". It was Fred White. Wyatt stood up and shook the mayors hand. "Mr. Earp. Your reputation precedes you". They retracted their hands. "I was wondering if you might be--"

"Not a prayer. Nice meetin' you" Wyatt said dismissively and sitting back down. The Mayor and his wife looked at each other awkwardly before turning to leave to go back to their seats and with Fred White leaving as well. The sounds of a drum were heard which signified that the theater was about to start. The curtain was pulled up to reveal a man with three wooden pins and dressed nicely. He bowed and you all then hear one of the cowboys say, "Professor Gillman? Oh, I seen him in Bisbee. He catches stuff".

"Hey professor" one of the cowboys stood up his gun drawn and aimed at Gilman. "Catch this". He fired at him and shoot one of the pins and said pin exploded. Gilman was shocked and ran off stage exclaiming they were shooting at him which made the cowboys laugh. Another man walked out onto the stage wearing a black robe and two men helped set the stage. All it was was placing a 5 ft. fake marble pillar and the other man replaced the sign on the stand saying what the next act is. "Prettiest man I ever saw" one of the cowboys said laughing.

The man on stage whipped his robe off dramatically and revealed him in a white unbuttoned shirt and red tights but also with red and black stripped flows and black boots. The cowboys cheered for how he looked and the man spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen, the st. Crispin's day speech from Henry V. To set the scene-"

A cowboy shot at the pillar and it startled you that you quickly grabbed Docs arm for safety and you quickly realized what you did and let go. Doc smiled and said, "Nothin' like a beautiful woman to hold me for comfort".

"I'm sorry" you said quietly and while the man on stage was saying his speech. "No reason to be" Doc said and then gently squeezed your hand, "I'm right here if you need protection". You smiled back at him and went back to watching the show. "... Gentle his condition. Gentlemen in England now abed shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap, whilst any speaks who fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day"!

The cowboys were first to applaud the performance and even started firing some of their guns into the ceiling and the rest of you applauded as well. As the man walked off stage and someone took the pillar off stage, another man went on the stage to change the sign for the next performance that read, "Faust or the devils bargain". The sound of the violin was heard and music to set the scene was played and it sound interesting. Another curtain was pulled up to reveal an old man at a desk and another man wearing what looked to be old victorian mens clothing but he also wore a devils mask.

"Now what in the hell is this" one of the cowboys asked confused.

"Th- that's Faust. H- he's gonna make a deal with the devil" someone replied.

Doc leaned in close to you and asked, "Is your soul for sale dear"?

"Nope" you said plainly but then looked at him to say, "My soul is claimed". Doc looked at bit confused and asked as the play was going, "By who"?

"Oh, I dunno" you said teasingly but then said, "Maybe you". Doc smiled and scooted closer to you. The play continued and it wasn't making any sense to you so you just watched it with a blank stare. "Know what I'd do" a cowboy said and it got your attention. "I'd take the deal, then crawfish and drill that old devil in the ass".

All the cowboys started laughing and so did you but you tried to hide it. Both Wyatt and Doc looked down at the cowboys in disapproval at how they were acting but when Doc heard you laugh, he couldn't help the smirk that appeared on that handsome face of his. The play continued until the music stopped and the act ended and everyone started applauding. "Very instructive" Doc said.

The actors came out and bowed to thank them but the devil actor wasn't on stage. "But who is the devil" Wyatt asked. More music was heard and the devil came out quickly to remove his mask to reveal that it was actually a woman. The same woman that you all saw wearing the grey dress with the orange umbrella from earlier in the day. She looked right up at Wyatt, who had the look of shock, and smiled right up at him in a flirty fashion. "I'll be damned" Wyatt said.

"You may indeed, if you get lucky" Doc said to Wyatt. As the performers walked off staged, everyone got up to leave. "Oh" you said getting the people around you their attention. "It's over already"?

"Yes ma'am" Wyatt said as he stood up and helped Maddie stand up and Doc doing the same thing to you like a true southern gentleman. As you all exited the theater, you all met outside with Morgan and Virgil with their wives. All the cowboys had headed to the saloons for drinks and since the streets were pretty quiet, Morgan asked, "What'd you think, (Y/n)? Was it better than what your used to"?

"It was... Different" you said with Doc holding your arm so properly and like a gentleman. "You still gotta tell me how things are from where you come from".

"I will. I promise".

Morgan smiled and looked up. "Would you look at all those stars? I mean, you look up and you think "God made all of that, he still remembered to make a little speck like me". You all started to walk forward into the street. "Kinda flattering, really. Wyatt, do you believe in God"? Wyatt just shrugged, he wasn't sure how to respond. "No, come on, really. Do ya"?

"Yeah. Maybe" Wyatt said. "Hell, I don't know".

"Well, what d'you think happens when you die" Morgan asked Wyatt.

"Somethin'. Nothin'. Hell, I don't know".

"Well I read this book, a book on spiritualism".

"Oh God. Here he goes again" Virgil said tiredly and sarcastically which made you chuckle.

"Said that a lot of people when they die, they see this light. Like in a tunnel".

"Yeah"?

"They say it's the light leadin' you to heaven".

"Really" Wyatt asked in an interested tone, "What about hell? They got a sign there, or what"?

"I know what it is" you said getting their attention. "If you see a light, you go to heaven. If you see me, you go to hell". They all broke out in laughter and Allie reached over to gently smack your arm. "Hey, (Y/n), goddamnit. I'm serious" Morgan said regaining his breath. That joke really made him laugh hard. "You have such a dark sense of humor" Doc said. He also laughed at the joke.

"Well, what can I say? I'm crazy and fun to be around"! They all agreed and Doc smiled in agreement. He really was enjoying your company. "Comin' to the Oriental, Virg" Wyatt asked.

"Not tonight" Allie said. "Tonight, me and my old man are gonna have some fun". Morgan and his wife bid their goodnights to each other. "Come on, get movin', old man".

"Maiden name was Sullivan" Virgil said and then Allie smacked him with her scarf and after another kiss, Louisa walked off to catch up with Allie and Virgil. "You two better go with them" Wyatt said to you and Mattie.

"Nonsense" Doc said to Wyatt. "Stay with me darlin'. I want to learn more from you".

"Ok" you said sweetly.

"Please stay with me" Mattie pleaded to Wyatt.

"Well, honey, I-I gotta get to work". Mattie look defeated and just said, "All right".

"Well, wait a minute. I guess I don't have to go right now. I could stay awhile".

"No, no. I don't wanna keep you" Mattie said and then reached for something. "No, really" Wyatt said encouragingly, "I can stay awhile". Mattie pulled out a small dark glass bottle and took a drink. "That the bottle Lou gave you" Wyatt asked.

"Yes, it is" Mattie said getting a bit defensive.

"Maybe you should see a doctor" Wyatt suggested.

Mattie scoffed and said, "Wyatt, it's just headaches".

"You know the best thing for headaches is sleep, right" you said. You would've said pain relievers but you had remind yourself where you were currently at. Mattie just brushed you off but Wyatt backed you up. "See" Wyatt then got a bit quiet, "You should listen to her. She knows more than we do. You should rest".

"She doesn't get it. She's not from here, she wouldn't understand".

"I can learn" you said genuinely. Mattie once again ignored you. "I know what I'm doing, (y/n). I don't need to see a doctor"!

"All right, honey. Ok" Wyatt said trying to calm her down.

"Just go" Mattie sighed. "Everything's fine, Wyatt. Work well".

"All right" Wyatt said and then leaned in to kiss her cheek which didn't look like it satisfied her. "Good night". As Mattie walked away, Wyatt said, "You look beautiful tonight". Mattie looked back and scoffed, "Thank you" and just continued walking away. You and Morgan said goodnight to her but she only acknowledged Morgan and not you and that upset you. Why was she being mean? "Hey" Morgan said getting your attention and also seeing that Matties attitude kinda upset you. "Don't worry 'bout it. Come on, let's go have some drinks. You are old enough, right"?

"Shut up, Morgan" you said playfully which made them happy to see you smiling again. There was something about your smile and personality that really made them feel happier to be around you. Doc especially. "You two go on ahead to the Faro table" Wyatt said to you and Morgan. "I gotta talk to Doc for a moment".

"Alrighty" Morgan said and then looked at you, "Let's go".

"COME ON"! You both raced inside like children and both Doc and Wyatt were still outside. "Wyatt"?

"Doc? I really have to ask". Wyatt was nervous to ask this question and knew he couldn't ask this question with you around. "What happened to Kate"? Doc sighed and took a drink from a flask he had in his coat. "I sent her away" he said plainly.

"Why"?

"Oh, I suppose it had something to do with the fact that she saw me more as a meal ticket than her lover". Wyatt could understand this and only nodded. "But with her" Doc said mentioning you, "I can tell that she cares more".

"You two just met today" Wyatt interjected.

"I know, and so did me and Kate when we first met. I thought we were meant to be but I then saw through that false image pretty quickly". Doc took another drink from his flask. "I had nobody else and I just dealt with it. But now, it's different. She's different".

"Well" Wyatt said chuckling, "She is from the future".

"It's not that, Wyatt. I don't know what it is" Doc said having a million theories running through his head. "I don't know".

"Well, maybe you'll find out soon. Cause for now, she's stuck with us. You'll have time to think that through" Wyatt said walking alongside Doc to go inside. Everyone from the theater was inside and they saw Morgan setting up the Faro table and you standing beside him. As they made it over, Doc was still trying to think about what it was about you that really made him feel like you were the one for him after meeting him for the first time today.

He wasn't sure but he knew he needed a drink and to be beside you.

#will add more tags later

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oftincturedwords · 2 years

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chapters : 1/1 fandom : tombstone ( 1993 ) rating : t+ chapter warning(s) : canonical character death , smoking , drinking , alcohol mention , grief / mourning , open ending , etc. characters : wyatt earp , mentioned doc holliday pairing(s) : gen. doc holliday / wyatt earp additional tags : hurt no comfort , angst , memories , remembering , flashbacks , etc. prompt : ' haunted ' word count : 775 ( one - shot ) summary : wyatt visits a saloon & sees a ghost a/n : so this was a writing exercise that i did with my sister on description work based upon a single word , mine was 'haunted' & this what came of it. it's under 1k words so i am posting it here rather than my ao3. i have no beta thus all mistakes are mine. disclaimer : i do not own any right to tombstone ( 1993 ). neither am i associated with the production companies , the historical figures these characters are based upon , nor any of the actors who portray these characters. i make no money off any of stories , this is purely for entertainment purposes. disclaimer #2 : this is based solely upon the film’s portrayals & is a work of historical fiction. i mean no disrespect nor defamation upon these historical figures these characters are based on. neither should this be taken as facts or a statement on beliefs / thoughts / actions / etc. of these mentioned historical figures. this story is derived purely from the film as a source.

stepping into the room equally as hot yet far more humid than the air was outside, clouded with a haze of visible smoke from spent cigars or rolled cigarettes, wyatt single - mindedly headed straight for the bar. ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness of sweat along his collar and along the creases of his suit, it wasn't a new sensation after all these years spent further south than he had in the north.

a large moustached man with stern countenance was filling glasses with beer or whisky depending on the order. the other simply nodded in greeting to his approach and awaited whatever he was to order. returning the gesture with an order for a mere pint, his voice pitched to be heard over the clamour of the busy atmosphere yet not so for it to carry past the barman’s ears.

there was a gleam that caught his eye as the barman’s left, drawing his attention like a whipcord towards the thin string of poker tables lined about the right hand side of the establishment. a pitched laugh of triumph , a high near cackle of elated victory from a man of loose auburn hair and a deeply patterned waistcoat had him leaning unsteadily onto the bar at his side.

near collapsing against the solid weight of the intricately pattern wood, heart stuttering against his ribs as his breath froze within his lungs, wyatt fought to keep his feet beneath him. unconsciously knowing he was already making a bit of a spectacle of himself to the men behind him, yet he was helpless to his reaction borne from the yearning in his heart.

the air held a near ethereal quality due to the smoky vapour that heavily surrounded the table , obscuring the details of one's features and greying out the rest of the room. seeming to soften the lines between reality and anamnesis. drawn forth , plucked from the recesses of a long ago memory that lay no less treasured by years elapsed nor could time ever hope to degrade their vividness. no matter how much it and the disadvantages of ageing wished to erode at its edges or fade their brilliance, to work at it as it sought to erase their presence entirely.

nought could dampen them.

for in that moment , wyatt was twenty years previous. no longer greyed in his hair and moustache, nor bothered in his joints by the advancement of his years , but standing tall and curiously observing a game like no other be played by a skinny man with keen eyes and a deep accent. polished and gentlemanly - like in both presence and speech, wiping clean the table of every cent of any who dare buy in to play.

the hearty chuckle emitted from a satisfied victor , the sweat dampened hair falling into his face as he lent forward to collect his winnings with wide swept hands to pull its towards himself. the way the dim glow of lit lanterns gleamed off the shinning nickle of a pair of navy colts and the stylish embroidery of his burgundy waistcoat, the gem of the pin in his tie had added to the refined look of the man.

so very out-of-place this man had been at further inspection , yet perfectly did he fit in with the gamblers and drinkers that surrounded the tables and milled about the place. cat-like grace in the movements of his thin hands as he handled the cards and sorted his payout, whilst intelligent green eyes kept both a count and eye about the room. scrutinising yet merry in their light, striking and captivating when they had glanced up to meet his own.

yet it was then the reverie was broken , shattered with a crystalline fragility for those eyes weren't green nor any shade close as the other cast an askance look towards him. perhaps wondering why he was being stared at so , by a complete stranger at that.

however , wyatt could care less about appearances at present , for his breath failed to return with any sort of ease , for haunted was he by the facsimile of a man that had just moment ago sat before his eyes once again.

in those precious few ticks he’d been granted reprieve from the grief that lingered at the back of his kind and dogged at his steps during the every lulling quiet that peppered through his days. phantom-like in its appearance yet so very grounded, a glimpse into a time long past. one so ached for, despite the distraction of life continued on brought with it.

no amount of wishing nor wanting , neither the fancies of waking dreams , would change what death had already claimed.

#bayze's writing #my writing #tombstone #tombstone 1993 #wyatt earp #tombstone wyatt earp #doc holliday #tombstone doc holliday #i didn't really edit this overmuch because i feared i would grow to hate it as my muse has been flighty lately so i apologise for mistakes #i may come back to it & edit when my muse is in a more amicable mood

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bradenton171 · 1 month

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WYATT EARP RETURN TO TOMBSTONE! Movie! Free Western! HD COLOR! O'Brian! ...

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readingforsanity · 9 months

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I'm Your Huckleberry | Val Kilmer | Published 2021

In this New York Times bestseller, legendary actor and star of the acclaimed documentary Val shares the stories behind his most beloved roles, reminisces about his star-studded career and love life, and reveals the truth behind his recent health struggles in a remarkably candid biography.

Val Kiler has played many iconic roles over his nearly four-decade film career. A table-dancing Cold War agent in Top Secret! A troublemaking science prodify in Real Genius. A brash fighter pilot in Top Gun. A swashbuckling knight in Willow. A lovelorn bank robber in Heat. A charming master of disguise in The Saint. A wise-cracking detective in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. Of course, Batman, Jim Morrison and the sharp-shooting Doc Holliday.

But who is the real Val Kilmer? With I'm Your Huckleberry - published prior to the highly anticipated sequel Top Gun: Maverick, in which Kilmer returns to the bring screen as Tom "Iceman" Kazansky - the enigmatic actor at last steps out characters and reveals his true self.

In this uniquely assembled memoir - featuring vivid prose, snippets of poetry and rarely-seen photos - Kilmer reflects on his acclaimed career, including becomes the youngest actor ever admitted to the Julliard School's famed drama department, determinedly campaigning to win the lead part in The Doors, and realizing a years-long dream of performing a one-man show as his hero Mark Twain. He shares candid stories of working with screen legends Marlon Brando, Tom Cruise, Robert Downey Jr, and Robert De Niro, and recounts high-profile romances with Cher, Cindy Crawford, Daryl Hannah, and former wife Joanna Whalley. He chronicles his spiritual journey and lifelong belief in Christian Science, and describes travels to far-flunt locales such as a scarcely inhabited island in the Indian Ocean where he suffered from delirium and was cared for by the resident tribe. He reveals details of his recent throat cancer diagnosis and recovery - about which he has disclosed little until now.

While containing plenty of tantalizing celebrity anecdoes, I'm Your Huckleberry - taken from the famous line Kilmer delivers as Holliday in Tombstone - is ultimately a singularly written and deeply moving reflection on mortality and the mysteries of life.

About a month or two ago, my husband and I sat down to watch Tombstone. I had never seen the movie, though I understood it's premise was about Wyatt Earp and the events that led up to the gunfight at the OK Corral as well as the events that took place after.

What I wasn't prepared for was Val Kilmer as the one and only Doc Holliday. His performance as the dentist-turned-gambler suffering from turberculosis, or as they so kindly called in back in the late 1800s, consumption, was tantalizing. I was immediately hooked and not only obsessed with Doc Holliday himself, but Val too.

I've had instances of obsession with actors in the past. Vin Diesel being one of them. I had to own every movie he ever did, but that obsession didn't last long. I call it hyperfixating. But, in truth, it is because I had fallen in love with Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday. I'd fallen in love with a man who no longer looks and sounds the way he did back in 1993.

After rewatching the movie a few days ago, my husband purchased Val's memoir for me, titled I'm Your Huckleberry, one of the more famous lines from Tombstone. While I can read fictional stories fairly quickly, it takes me a bit longer for non-fiction or biographies or memoirs because I'm trying to absorb much more information than usual. And Val's memoir did not disappoint.

For years, all we heard about was how difficult Val was to work with, how he was a womanizer, that he was full of himself. The Val we get to know through his own eyes is the exact opposite. Val is a hopeless romantic, therefore his quests to find love in his life was simply because he wanted to find the woman of his dreams. After a relationship with Daryl Hannah, he gave that up and admits that he hasn't had a girlfriend in about 15-20 years.

The memoir chronicles his young life in Los Angeles, his parents ultimate divorce, and his father's dive into seclusion. The birth of his children, Mercedes and Jack, along with various snippets of information from the movies he did. Funnily enough, he didn't want anything to do with Top Gun, and that was the very movie that put him out into superstardom.

Regardless of your personal feelings on Val, or the movies he's done throughout his life, it's sad to see such an artistic person be riddled of the one thing that made their art into life - his voice. After his diagnosis with throat cancer and the tracheotomy that could his voice (or in the very least, made it more difficult for him to speak), Val has turned his vocal art into a more visual one. His Instagram shows various pieces of the art he has created since being released from the hospital. It also chronicles his faith, a true love for the Christian Science religion.

Pick this one up. You won't be disappointed, even if you know little to nothing of the man who wrote it. He shares everything, no holding back.

To Val, thank you for sharing your craft with us. I will continue to watch movies with you in it, and pretend that I hadn't fallen in love with a man who knows nothing about me. But, truly, you are one of the greatest actors of the 1990's. Thank you.

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micoc84 · 1 year

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Top Movies 1990s 1990- Pretty Woman -g marshall, j.roberts, r. gere 1991- Robin Hood PT - k reynolds, k.costner, m. mastrant, m. free 1991- Terminator 2 - cameron, e.furlong, schwarz, l.hamilton 1992 - Singles - c.crowe, k.sedgwick, c.scott, b.fonda, m.dillon 1992 - Aladdin - j.musker, r.williams, s.weinger, l.larkin, j.free 1993- Jurassic Park - spielberg, s. neill, l.dern, a.richards, j.gold 1993- Poetic Justice - j.singleton, j.jackson, t.shakur, r.king 1994- Forrest Gump - zemeckis, t. hanks, r.wright, s.field 1997- Titanic - cam, l.dicaprio, k.winslett, b.zane, k.bates 1999- Matrix - wachowski, k.reeves, c.moss, l.fishburne Ed Scissors (90), Goodfellas (90), Total Recall (90), Home Alone (90), Ghost (90), House Party (90), Dances with Wolves (90), Green Card (90), Mermaids (90), Days of Thunder (90), Grifters (90), Joe Volcano (90), Bonfire Vanities (90), Dick Tracy (90), Godfather 3 (90) ||| Frankie and Johnny (91), Bill Ted Bogus (91), Hook (91), Raise Red Lantern (91), Once China (91), Beauty Beast (91), Rocketeer (91), Point Break (91), Silence Lambs (91), Boyz in Hood (91), Thelma Louise (91), JFK (91) Bodyguard (92), Wayne's World (92), Basic Instinct (92), Sister Act (92), The Player (92), Glengarry Ross (92), Army of Darkness (92), Crying Game (92), Unforgiven (92), Dracula BS (92), Last Mohicans (92), Few Good Men (92), Far and Away (92), River Runs (92), League of Own (92), Batman Returns (92) ||| Free Willy (93), Groundhog Day (93), Mrs. Doubtfire (93), Fugitive (93), Sleepless Seattle (93), Falling Down (93), Demolition Man (93), Nightmare Cmas (93), Dazed Confused (93), Sandlot (93), Tombstone (93), Schindler's List (93), Age of Innocence (93), Name Father (93), Much Ado (93), Firm (93), Benny Joon (93), Philadelphia (93), Perfect World (93), Carlito's Way (93), Even Cowgirls (93), Gettysburg (93) Reality Bites (94), Pulp Fiction (94), Red Three Colors (94), Lion King (94), True Lies (94), Mask (94), Speed (94), Shawshank Redemption (94), Flintstones (94), Muriel's Wedding (94), Four Weddings (94), Dumb Dumber (94), Ed Wood (94), Professional (94), Chungking Express (94), Clerks (94), Hoop Dreams (94), Little Women (94), Interview Vampire (94), Legends of Fall (94), Bullets Broadway (94), Wyatt Earp (94) 1 9 9 5 : Clueless, Friday, Before Sunrise, While You Sleep, Braveheart, Toy Story, Apollo 13, James Bond GE, Pocahontas, Batman FO, Seven, Empire Records, Showgirls, Kids, Tommy Boy, Mortal Kombat, Babe, Rumble in Bronx, Welcome Dollhouse, Casino, Ghost in Shell, Usual Suspects, Heat, Waterworld, Bridges Madison, Mighty Aphrodite, Dead man Walk, Dangerous Minds, Jumanji

Swingers (96), Independence Day (96), Space Jam (96), Twister (96), The Rock (96), Mission Impossible (96), Happy Gilmore (96), Birdcage (96), From Dusk Dawn (96), Romeo Juliet BL (96), Trainspott (96), Fargo (96), English Patient (96), Scream (96), Crucible (96) ||| Grosse Pointe Bl (97), Chasing Amy (97), LA Confidential (97), Boogie Nights (97), Goodwill Hunt (97), Life is Beautiful (97), Fifth Element (97), Men in Black (97), As Good Gets (97), Austin Powers (97), Face off (97), Princess Monoke (97), Gattaca (97), Seven Years Tibet (97), Anastasia (97), Donnie Brasco (97), Jackie Brown (97) Rushmore (98), Big Lebowski (98), Something Mary (98), Save Private Ryan (98), Shakespeare Love (98), Godzilla (98), Bug's Life (98), Half Baked (98), He Got Game (98), Out of Sight (98), Truman Show (98), Great Expectations (98), Prince Egypt (98), Dark City (98) ||| Phantom Menace SW (99), Office Space (99), Iron Giant (99), Fight Club (99), Tarzan (99), Mummy (99), American Beauty (99), American Pie (99), Blair Witch (99), Never Been Kissed (99), Ten Things Hate (99), Three Kings (99), Galaxy Quest (99), Sixth Sense (99), Magnolia (99), Being J Malkovich (99), Girl Interrupt (99), Eyes Wide Shut (99), Snow Fall Cedar (99), Sweet Lowdown (99)

#sunset

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whitepolaris · 1 year

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Hotel Del Coronado

Few who stay in the five-star Hotel Del Coronado know of the eternal guest who lives here-until they run into her late at night. On Thanksgiving Day 1892, a beautiful young woman named Kate Morgan checked in at the ornate hotel. Five days later she checked out with a gunshot wound to the temple. The case was a sensation in local and national newspapers for weeks afterward, and writers have speculated about it for over a century. Contemporary headlines obsessed over the mystery of the “Beautiful Stranger.”

Morgan worked the railways, operating as a team with her husband, Tom. Introducing themselves as siblings, Kate would distract the mark by flirting with him, while Tom played sleight of hand with cards. His swindle of choice was Three Card Monte. They made a good living at it, but this charmed existence came to an end on a trip from Los Angeles to San Diego. The couple apparently had a barn burner of an argument, and Tom got off in a huff at the station in Orange. It was the last time they would see each other-perhaps. Kate may have been pregnant, and some historians have speculated that she was ready to file for divorce, a tough road to travel for a woman in nineteenth-century America.

Kate continued on to San Diego and arrived at the “Del” on the afternoon of November 24. She entered through the unaccompanied ladies entrance and had the clerk sign her in as Lottie A. Bernard. She claimed that she was waiting for her brother to arrive. Over the next few days, she complained to the hotel staff of headaches and pains. She asked the bellboy to get her wine and, later, a jigger of whiskey from the bar.

On Monday, November 28, Kate took a train from San Diego and bought a pistol from Chick’s Gun Shop, an establishment also frequented by Wyatt Earp while he ran various gambling houses in the Stingaree district downtown after his more famous stint in Tombstone, Arizona. Morgan returned to the hotel and was found the next morning by David Cone, the hotel electrician. Her body was lying on the stairs leading to the beach, a gun by her side, and a bullet hole in her right temple. The coroner guessed that she had been dead at least six or seven hours.

In his 1990 book The Legend of Kate Morgan, trial lawyer and author Alan May theorized that Morgan was murdered by her errant husband, citing evidence such as corrosion on the supposedly new gun found next to her body and the hasty coroner’s inquest that failed to ask key questions about the circumstances surrounding Morgan’s death.

“Kate is our most famous ghost,” says hotel historian Christian Donovan. “We get more interest from the media on that one subject than anything else.”

And why wouldn’t they? Whether it was murder or suicide, her violent end is custom-tailored for a haunting. One the last five days of her life, Morgan stayed in room 302. After a century of restoration and remodeling, the room has been redesignated number 3327. According to hotel staff, it is usually booked months, even years, in advance, especially around Halloween. Guests have reported swinging fixtures, flickering lights, telephone and TV malfunctions, and dark figures pulling sheets off the bed. One gentleman became so exasperated by phantom phone calls that he finally shouted at Kate Morgan to leave him in peace. The alarm clocked buzzed three times (this was at four a.m.), and the calls stopped. Another guest saw a pretty woman mirroring her actions a few feet away next door. The figure smiled at her. She wasn’t aware that she’d seen a ghost until she realized that the woman was dressed in turn-of-the-century period clothes. Parapsychology snoops have attested to activity in the room as well.

There have been reports and complaints about another room-3519-which has also been extensively studied by psychic investigators. Ashtrays and other objects fall off tables, and footsteps and voices can be heard from the floor above. The problem here is that the next door is the roof, as an unnamed Secret Service agent discovered in 1983 while staying in the hotel on assignment with then-Vice President George Bush. He immediately demanded to be moved elsewhere.

Manifestations have been recorded in other rooms besides 3327 and 3519, but seem to be confined for the most part to the third floor, Kate’s floor. The hallway are much narrower then the ones below, and the feeling is a little on the claustrophobic side. In 1999, a family staying in room 3343 were driven to hysterics when the mother’s reflection in the bathroom mirror laid a singular moment of cognitive dissonance on them: As Christian Donovan reports in her book Beautiful Stranger: The Ghost of Kate Morgan and the Hotel Del Coronado, “[H]er eyes were the size of Orphan Anne’s (two or three times their normal size) and each appeared to be configured like a bull’s eye.”

Nonsensitives seem to have an advantage in ghost-watching here. “People who check in looking for the ghost really don’t have much luck,” Donovan says he has noticed. “Kate seems to like catching people who aren’t looking for her. I don’t think these spirits want to be conjured.”

If you decide to tempt Kate Morgan, it’ll cost you: “Victorian” rooms go for $250 or more, but it’s a small price to pay for a good bet to see a ghost-and a babe at that.

A Date with Kate

Kate Morgan checked into room 302 at the Hotel Del Coronado to meet her estranged husband for Thanksgiving. He never arrived to meet her, and a few days later, she was found dead on the hotel steps near the ocean. Since then, guests and staff of the Hotel Del Coronado have noticed strange breezes, ghostly noises and the pale figure of a young lady walking in a black lace dress. Most people also find it exciting and exhilarating to rent the room for the night, just to see if they have a paranormal experience with Kate. -Ian Bair, San Diego

#weird california #type read

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jasonblaze72 · 2 years

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#BillPaxton

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filmtv2022 · 2 years

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To the Bitter End: Chapter Seven

18+ Minors Do Not Proceed

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist

Pairing: Doc Holliday x Earp!Reader

Chapter Notes: Y/N recovers under the care of Doc & her family. Once she is feeling better, John & Y/N return to living their life together, as normally as one can, given the current set of circumstances. The cowboys continue to cause a problem for the town of Tombstone, and that in turn puts the reader's loved ones in danger.

Warnings: Swearing + alcohol consumption + kissing/suggestive behavior + gun fights

** Author's Note: Again, this chapter is probably more like 16+, but I don't want anyone to be caught off guard by the content. So, it is what it is. This one feels super long, but I hope you all enjoy it!

Recovery after a bout like your last took time, and it was never a full recovery, you body never quite made it back to the place it was before it happened. Your muscles fatigued more quickly, your lungs burned with effort from even the shortest walks, and the face staring back at you in the mirror looked impossibly more pale. Even with your body failing you, the past few days had been some of your happiest, and it was all because of who were with. John never left your side except to round up food for the pair of you to eat. Each day was spent getting to know each other’s hearts & minds in a way you’d never had the chance to fathom. And the nights were spent tangled beneath the sheets, committing every inch of the other’s body to memory.

It had been nearly five days since your night at the Bird Cage with Doc & your family. In that time, your brothers had made it a point to visit daily, both Virgil & Morgan brought their wives along. But each time Wyatt came to visit he was alone, the look of sadness never fully left his eyes.

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Standing at the mirror you heard a small knock on the door. You figured it was probably John returning with his arms too full to manuver the handle, so you slowly made your way over & pulled it open. It wasn’t Doc standing there, it was Wyatt. Once the door was open he quickly moved through the frame & into the room, his shoulders slumped as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The door quietly thunked in its frame as you shut it before moving to sit next to him. Not sure of what to say you grabbed your brother’s hand with your own, and waited for him to speak.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Confusion rolled through your body as you pulled Wyatt’s hand into your lap.

“I have spent your whole life trying to figure out how to protect you because the thought of you being in pain scared the shit out of me. And when you first got sick…I..I felt like I had failed you. I had failed to do the one thing I’d sworn I would do. And then with Mattie, god, I don’t even really know why, but I let her try to walk all over you.” His words were flowing fast, coming in as an almost incoherent stream of consciousness.

“I should have said something that night at the Bird Cage, but instead I let you defend yourself alone. And when you collaspsed I was terrified because I realized that I might never get a chance to be a better brother.” He paused just for a moment, standing up from the bed before continuing to bear his heart to you.

“And I know that I don’t say it enough, but I need you to know how much I love you. I never wanted this life for you, and for years I have been lost trying to figure out how to keep you here with us longer, to protect you, but when I saw you with Doc, it all made sense. You don't need me to find a way to keep you here, you don’t need me to protect you from the world, you need me to simply just be there, to bring more good into your life, which I know I haven’t always done. So I promise you this Y/N, from here out, I will do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Wyatt’s breathing was heavy, as if he had just run a race, but he felt lighter than he had in years. Standing you reached out to him, your arms wrapped around his middle gripping the back of his jacket tightly. It only took a second before Wyatt was reciprocating the hug.

“Wyatt, there’s nothing to forgive, but I know you need to hear it. So, I forgive you. And I need you to know that I love you. I know how much of a burden it has been to walk with me through this illness & even the best men falter in the face of death. And when it comes to happiness, I hope you do the same. Pursue happiness Wyatt, life is far too short to live without it…I know because I’ve lived that way for the past two years.”

The two of you stood in the each other’s embrace for a few minutes until the door opened again, this time it was Doc returning with food.

“Well, if it isn’t the picture of familial bliss.” Doc teased as he entered the room. Pulling away from your brother you made your way over to Doc, placing a small kiss to his lips as he set down the items he’d been holding. Doc’s arms circled low around your waist as your own found a home on around his neck.

“Doc, how the hell are you?” A wide smile formed on Wyatt’s face as he greeted his friend. He’d never admit, but knowing that Doc was the person bringing happiness back into your life was like a life preserver keeping him afloat in turbulent waters.

“Wyatt, I am rolling” quipped John, grinning back at Wyatt before dipping down to kiss you. This kiss grew a bit more passionate than originally intended causing your brother to clear his throat before bowing out of the room.

“Well, I think it’s time for me leave.” Quickly Wyatt made his exit from the room, hearing the pair of you huff a muffled laugh at the impropriety of it all.

As the door thunked in its frame, Doc’s chapped lips moved down your neck before backing you up onto the bed. He lowered himself down on top of you as the back of your knees hit the edge of the frame. His hands roamed your body, lingering on the swell of your chest before sweeping down to caress your sides. Pure lust & desperation took hold of you as his fingers slid sensually across your body. A breathy moan escaped your lips as one of your hands gripped John tightly by the hair, while the other brushed along his back. The feeling of Doc’s finger tips ghosting over the inside of your thighs had you fisting your hand in his brown locks. The sudden tension caused John to groan into your mouth, and grind his hips down into yours.

That’s when you could feel it, the tightening of John’s body, not from lust, but from a deep cough searching to escape. Doc shot back from your body, his face strained from the violent contraction of his lungs. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching into his breast pocket for a handkerchief. As he pulled the cloth from his pocket you could see that it was already stained with blood. The sight of it caused your chest to clench, you knew this meant this was not the first time today he’d been ravaged by a coughing spell.

A particularly forceful hack spurred you into action. You stood from the end of the bed before moving to the spot slightly behind John, your left leg draped down next to his while your right shin was tucked behind him. Once you were back on the bed you reached out for John bringing him closer to you. Your arms wrapped around his body as he continued to try & calm his blazing lungs. There you sat, stroking comforting touches along Doc’s arms. Finally, his chest stopped heaving allowing John to take a few restorative breathes. Leaning back you curled your fingers around a clean cloth that was within your reach. You pressed a sad smile to John’s temple, gently dabbing away the moisture that had collected there. Settling back onto the bed you took Doc by the shoulders to lay on your chest, a contented sign slipped past your lips as his warm body melted into yours.

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After some time you could feel Doc begin to stir in your arms. You’d know John for a long time & you could guess that while the past several days had been wonderful in many ways, he was itching to get out of this hotel. Doc had never been one to turn down the chance to drink whiskey and gamble, the risk of it all was like a drug, numbing reality enough to let the anxiety of dying ease just a little. It was time to break out of this bubble & return to life outside of the Grand.

“Doc… I think I’d like to pay a visit to the Oriental tonight, if you’re up for it?” You offered up this lifeline for him to grab & John gladly took it.

Doc’s thick drawl swept across your body, his voice was like a pain killer for your soul.

“What a splendid idea darlin’, I believe it is high time we give this town something new to talk about.” A mischievous grin grew on his lips as he stood from the bed.

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The sky was already dark by the time you & John left the Grand & began the walk over to the Oriental. The two of you were certainly a sight to behold with John dressed in a long sleeve, button down undershirt & a black vest, and you in a scandalously low cut dress. The deep navy blue of the fabric complimented your pale skin in a way that left Doc feeling electrified, in truth, you’d almost never made it out of the hotel room. The fact that you weren’t wearing a bustle had nearly stopped his heart cold.

With drinks in hand, you made your way over to the Faro table to visit with Wyatt & Morgan. Tonight, John couldn’t resist throwing his hand in the pot, and in traditional Holliday fashion, he cleaned house on every round. While Doc continued to play, you made your way over to the bar to buy not just another drink, but a bottle of John’s favorite whiskey, Old Overholt Rye. Tipping the bartender well, you looped your fingers through the handles of the cups while clutching the bottle’s neck in your other hand. What you didn’t notice was the man with a red shash & a powder blue shirt glaring at you as you sauntered away.

Coming up behind Doc you pressed your body against his as you reached around him to first place the pair of cups on the Faro table, followed by the bottle of whiskey. The bottled sounded with a dull thud as it hit the cloth covered surface. John quickly glanced down to see what was in front of him before turning himself around.

Sitting back on the table slightly John’s hands slid into their favorite position on your hips as he spoke.

“Well, isn’t that a daisy? I’d say I’d gone to Heaven, but I’m fairly certain the Pearly Gates have already been slammed in my face.” Leaning forward John brought his lips to your neck, his hands finding new purchase in your hair & on your ass. The feeling of his mouth on your throat causing a quiet gasp to blow past your lips.

“Besides, you’re no angel are you darlin’?” His mustache tickled your skin as he smiled against your throat.

“Well, there was a devilishly good looking bidder aiming for soul a few nights back, so no, I’m no angel at all” The reference to your conversation at the Bird Cage sent you both into hysterics. Loosening his grip on your body, John turned around to open the bottle of whiskey. He poured you both a brimming glass before clinking your cups together.

—------------------------------------------

John continued to play rounds of Faro, throwing back glass after glass of alcohol in the process. Seeing just how far gone he was, you slowed down your own consumption. You knew that the more he consumed, the more likely he was to say something irrational and earn himself a fight. And while John could certainly handle himself, it seemed wise to keep your wits about you just in case.

Eventually, Doc’s attention turned to the piano sitting next to the table. Collecting his money, John bowed out of the game & plopped himself clumsily down on the bench behind the keys. Turning away from your brother’s you watched as Doc slowly began to move his fingers along the ivories. You loved this side of him in a way that was difficult to explain, he was soft, almost vulnerable when he played piano, and it warmed you through to see him like this. Many people discounted John upon first glance, they assumed he was nothing more than a drunk lunger hoping to get into a fight. And while there were threads of truth in those perceptions, there was a whole other person sitting just below that tough exterior. In reality, John was also an academic, a musician, hell even an amateur philosopher. Not only could he hold his own in any gun fight (drunk or sober), he could debate about the woes of the world with the best of them.

Within seconds Doc was languidly moving along the keys, gracefully playing a somber tune. The song certainly didn’t fit the atmosphere of the Oriental, but it fit John perfectly. The invisible string that connected you & him seemed to tighten as he glanced over his shoulder at you, silently inviting you to join him. So you did, sliding onto the bench behind Doc you leaned your backs together, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. The two of you moved together as the music played, the scene far too intimate for the setting, but neither of you cared enough to change. Wyatt & Morgan who were sitting at the Faro table couldn’t help but laugh a little at the sight of you two.

Your eyes had fluttered shut as Doc continued to play, wanting to focus on the sounds of the room rather than the sights. This caused you to miss the man who had watched you earlier approaching the piano. The sound of the person’s voice caused your eyes to fly open.

“Hey! Hey! Is that “Old Dog Trey”? That sounds like “Old Dog Trey” to me.” The smell of old alcohol was wafting off of him in waves so strong it nearly made you ill.

John didn’t bother to stop playing as he replied, “Pardon”.

“You know, Stephen Foster. “Oh! Susanna”, “Camptown Races”...Stephen Stinkin’ Foster!” The man’s tone was growing agitated as he spoke. That was when you noticed the red sash hanging from his hip, the sight bringing a pit to your stomach.

“Uh, yes, well, this happens to be a nocturne”

“A which?”

“You know, Frederic fucking Chopin”

The tension in the room kept you from laughing at Doc’s comments, but you heard Wyatt & Morgan slip up in the background. A sudden commotion in the street tore you and everyone else in the bar from the moment. You could hear repeated gunfire and the sound of fast moving hooves as the sheriff came running into the Oriental.

“Do you see what’s going on in the street? Somebody’s gotta do something”

Another man stepped in to say, “I believe you’re the sheriff”

“No, no, no, no. This is not county business. This is a town matter. Marshall?”

Your eyes turned toward Wyatt in surprise when he interjected himself into the conversation.

“Why don’t you just leave it alone?”

The Marshall hesitantly spoke up, “No, I, uh…I gotta do somethin’ ”

The Marshall took off towards the door through which you could still hear the person hollering & carrying on. Wyatt tried to continue the game, but his efforts were short lived as the situation on the street escalated. In the distance you could hear the Marshall trying to talk the man down from his shooting spree. The Sheriff made his way out onto the porch of the Oriental to watch what was happening when you heard one more shot ring out in the night air. Your blood ran cold as you heard the Marshall grunt with pain. Wyatt rose quickly, practically running out to help. Doc stood up to follow pulling you with him as he moved. As you exited the building you clocked the man in the red shirt, it was same one from a early in the week, and the sight of him made your blood boil.

The scene outside was chaos.

“You better get him off the street” Wyatt ordered as more of the patrons from the bar flooded around Fred’s body. He’d grabbed the man in red by the back of the neck, holding his face down as he barked a command.

“All right, back off” Wyatt’s tone growing more serious as the crowd demanded for the perpetrator to be tied up & killed.

“Nobody’s hangin’ anybody. He’ll stand trial for it. Now get back! Move!”

The man in blue from the other night appeared suddenly amongst the people in the street, throwing demands at Wyatt.

“Turn him loose!” Tensions rose as guns were cocked, ready for a fight

The cowboy who had been harassing Doc by the piano joined in the fray.

“He said to turn loose of him”

“Well, I’m not; so, go home”

“I swear to god, law dog, you don’t step aside, we’ll tear you apart”

Wyatt turned to point his pistol directly at the man, lifting it to his forehead.

“All right, you die first. Get it? Your friends might get me in a rush, but not before I make your head into a canoe. You understand me?” You knew by the tone of his voice that Wyatt was ready to take a life tonight, and all you could do was hope that it didn’t come to that right here, right now.

Music man interjected, “He’s bluffin’. Let’s rush him”.

The weasel with a gun pointed to his head pleaded with his friends to back off.

“No… he ain’t bluffin’.

“You’re not as stupid as you look, Ike. Now tell them to get back”

“Go on now, get back. He’ll kill me.

As the group of cowboys started to move back you felt Doc move from the spot right behind. He took a few paces forward, removing his gun from its place on his side and engaging the weapon.

“And you, music lover, you’re next.” Alcohol smoothed the tone of John’s voice, and most certainly impeded his able for rational thinking.

“It’s the drunk piano player. You’re so drunk, you can’t hit nothing. In fact, you’re probably seein’ double” The man drew a long knife from the sheath at his side causing the air in your lungs to freeze. Doc on the other hand seemed entirely unfazed by the threat in front of him. Throwing back the last of the drink in his cup, John hooked his finger through the handle before pulling out his other pistol and spining them both in his hands.

“I have two guns, one for each of ya.” The crowd of people stood stock still in nervous anticipation, the air thick with the possibility of bloodshed.

The sound of a gunshot tore through the air and was quickly followed by Virgil shouting, “All right, back it up now!” Morgan joined Virgil as they broke up the crowd on the ground. Meanwhile, Doc’s head was on a swivel watching for any unseen threat that might manifest.

Wyatt pushed Ike away with the barrel of his gun, but Ike just didn’t know when to quit.

As he stumbled away Ike shouted a veiled threat towards your brother, “I’ll see you soon. I’l see you soon. We’ll meet again”.

Once Wyatt, Virgil & Morgan had left with Curly Bill in tow, Doc returned his pistols to his holster & turned back to you. The look on your face was unreadable, bordering on stoney. Carefully, John approached you, like a wild animal that might snap without warning. Having closed the gap between you, John stood in silence, waiting for you to speak, to let him into your mind. But you didn’t, you simply turned around and walked back into the Oriental. Back at the Faro table you began cleaning up the mess & collecting the few items you brought. Every movement was calm & calculated in an attempt to hide your true emotions from the people flooding back into the bar.

Doc continued to watch you as you worked, thinking it best if he didn’t interfere. With the table cleaned up & closed for the night & the nearly empty bottle of whiskey in hand, you turned to say good night to the bartender before making your way to the door. John was only a few steps behind you, trailing you all the way back to the Grand.

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Back in the room John was seated on the bed, removing his outerwear to get ready for bed, all the while his eyes followed you around the space. First the money from the table was stored away safely, then the bottle of whiskey was placed next to the vanity mirror, and finally you stood in the front of the wardrobe preparing to undress. The silence was heavy with tension, but Doc knew you’d speak when you were damn well good and ready.

Your hands reached around your back to start unbuttoning your dress, fumbling with the angle. Noticing your struggle, John made his way to you & began slowly undoing your dress. His fingers pressing gently into your back as he moved from button to button. As the last closure was opened, he pushed the fabric from your shoulders, guiding it off of your frame & placing it on the chair nearby. Next his hands fell to the ties on the back of your skirt, untying the strings holding it in place. Taking you by the hand for balance he helped you step out of the skirt & placed it to on the chair. Now that you stood before him in your underwear, the last step was to remove the pins from your hair. Doc’s long fingers threaded through your hair carefully finding each pin, the plink of the pins hitting the vanity the only sound in the room.

John was transfixed on the feeling of your proximity, but the small sound of your sobs returned his attention to the present. Turning you around Doc brought you close, your arms wrapped around his middle squeezing tightly, as his were secure around your neck. Hot tears collected on his shirt as you continued to cry, but the dam had broken and there was no stopping the flood.

You finally found your words & broke apart from John’s embrace to speak.

“It scares me… your lack of self preservation.” Your voice wasn’t angry, you were sullen… almost defeated.

John waited for you to continue because he could see the words you wanted to say brewing under the surface.

“John you told me once that you always believed you’d die with your boots on and your gun blazing. And, while rationally I know that’s probably true, there’s part of me that hopes for something different… for you and me. Our time together is already limited with the grim reaper himself is our chaperone, but I… I don’t want to watch you die that way.”

Now it was Doc’s turn to be silent. There were no words to express the thoughts in his head at that moment. For the longest time, John gave himself over to his fighting instincts, hoping that an ill-advised gunfight would be the thing to take him and not the slow decline of his body. There was control in the first option, and while John thrived in chaos... when it came to his exit from the world… he would have given almost anything to have some say. Now there was a shift in his universe, a battlefield in his mind. He still desperately wanted control over his fate, and yet, he too couldn’t fathom the thought of making you watch as he bled out on the street or in a bar from a bullet wound. But by the same token, even the thought of you holding him in your arms as he succumbed to his illness sent chills through his body. And oddly enough, at that moment, the only thing John wished for was for someone else to make that decision, to take the control away… make it so he didn’t have to choose how he hurt you.

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