Forget Me Not

Oregon, 1890

It was a nowhere town, nobody would miss it when it was gone. But to the people of Miners Hope it was home. A small place they called their own, built from the ground up with their bare hands. They were a displaced people, wars over the West were being fought and lost and won all around them, sometimes the country felt like it was on the brink of despair. But their little settlement was far enough removed from the rest of the world to escape all of that.
Barely one hundred people made up the tiny community. All families with small children and lots of big dreams. They stood a chance at really making something of themselves.

Until Alexander Kilgrave and his boys passed through.

There was no money to be found in this little place, it was of no consequence to the band of Outlaws and their savage leader. What became of that town that night was nothing more than blood sport for a bored group of men. Kilgrave enjoyed their terror. Enjoyed conducting his symphony of destruction from the back of his horse, a cigar clenched between his teeth. He handed out execution orders like candy to children, and his loyal men carried out those orders without question.

"Why?"

Sat astride his blood bay stallion, Alexander deigned to entertain the question of the woman on her knees clutching at the shirt of her bloodied, dying husband. He plucks the cigar from between his teeth and offers her an insincere smile. Cold eyes almost as black as the hair that framed his pale face captivating her, like a snake charming its prey.

"Because we can." He answers, his voice like gravel. "Because word of this will spread, like it always does, and towns actually worth our while will be more willing to co-operate and escape the same fate."

"He was all I had." The broken blonde sobs as her husband breathes his last.
Bored, Kilgrave gathers up his reins and spurs his horse. "You still have your life, you should be thanking me."

He clicks his fingers and her screams echo and blend with the chorus of others, drifting out in to the night along with the embers of their burning homes.
She joined the other women and children of the town, gathered by Kilgrave's men. Hauled from burning cabins and thrown to their hands and knees in front of a judge and jury of one. Dismounting his horse, Alexander's expensive boots hit the dirt and one of his men bellows at the sobbing crowd to quiet down.
"Where's Torres?"Alexander asks, glancing to the masked soldier to his right. The man simply lifts his hand, pointing a bloodied machete toward what was left of a small saloon. As Kilgrave's gaze follows the gesture, the window to the tavern explodes, the body of a man hurled through it with startling ease. Framed by shattered glass, a muscled monster in a horrifying mask watches the proprietor scramble for his life.

Even at twenty years old, Jake Torres was a beast. Built like a bull and just as strong, he sat at Alexanders right hand. An enforcer, an agent of death. Raised to know nothing else, he was as effective as any blade in the capable hands of his 'father'.
Kilgrave watches with a look of amusement and pride as Jake steps through the broken window, his heavy boots thumping on the wooden slats as he stalks his crawling prey. With a sweep of his hand he un-sheaths the engraved machete from his back and swings it. A woman in the line-up screams and is kicked to the dirt as the saloon proprietor loses his head in three sickening hacks.

Lifting his fingers to his lips, Alexander whistles loudly, above the din of tears. Jake's masked face looks instantly up from his kill, like an obedient hound.
"Are you finished?" Kilgrave bellows over to him.

Jake glances over his shoulder and to the flames consuming the interior of the saloon. Nodding, he wipes the machete blade on the back of the man he had murdered and returns it to it's sheath, joining the others. He stands stoic and unmoved as Alexander addresses the women and children, telling them to spread word of this as far and wide as they could. To have his name strike fear in to the hearts of anybody that encountered it. In exchange, they got to live.

Seemed like a fair trade.

Mounting up, preparing to leave this wasted town in the dust, Alexander has one more command.

Gesturing to Jake with a click of his fingers to get his attention, he points to a girl in the line-up. No more than fourteen years old, if that.

"Bring her."

Mount Hagen, 1898

"Bounty Hunters? Us?" Michael chuckles at the irony of it all as their horses pick their way through stony ground peppered with snow. The going was treacherous and would only become more so as they climbed their way up the side of the mountain. It was hardly the time for jokes and levity, but Michael always had something to say about every situation they found themselves in.

Glancing back and over his shoulder toward his partner in crime, Jake simply smirks. "When it pays this much, we're whatever they want us to be."

"Guns for hire. Wasn't how I saw our lives playing out." Michael sighs wistfully, his breath whisping away in the cold air.

"No?" Jake muses. "What did you picture?"

There's a pause filled with nothing but the sounds of hooves crunching in the snow, before he answers. "Was a time the O'Driscoll name struck fear in to peoples hearts. Now we're doing good deeds for men that would want us dead if they knew who we really were."

Jake chuckles quietly. "Yeah well, things change. People change."

"Do they though?" Ripley speaks up from the back of the trail, listening in on their conversation.

He doesn't answer immediately, as his horse encounters a tricky foothold and slips a little. Gathering his reins he pulls Blue's head back up and helps him find his balance. The two behind him make note of the spot and avoid it as they ride.

Once navigated, Jake finally answers her. "You don't think any of us have changed?"

Ripley simply shrugs. "I guess. I don't know. Jury's still out on him." She grunts and gestures at Michael just ahead of her.

Michael scowls but remains quiet.

Jake sighs thoughtfully. "Spose you didn't know me till I'd already left my old life."

"You don't speak much of it."

"Lets just say that Jake is a Jake I'd rather forget." He smiles back to her.

"You didn't tell me we'd be up to our balls in snow." Michael grumbles, changing the subject as they make the climb. Jake chuckles quietly to himself, pushing on as the cold closes in around them. It could be suffocating sometimes and with the ride longer than they had anticipated, evening was on their doorstep. Temperatures would only plummet further.

What kind of sadists made camp on a snow capped mountain, anyway?
It's a question they're all asking themselves by the time they reach the top. Dismounting and leaving their horses, they tread as softly as they can through the snow. Approaching the little camp where fires burned bright and warmed the small gang that thought they were safe all the way up here.

Wanted for murder and rape, they were a collection of actively bad people that had pissed off the wrong town. Murdering the niece of the Blackwater Mayor, the price on their heads would feed The Family for months. With enough to put away toward building some kind of future for all of them.

It was worth the cold.

The gunfight is swift and savage and lights up the falling night. The trio with the advantage of surprise, take down a handful of lackeys with ease. Sweeping through to scoop up two of the men on the wanted poster, tying them like hogs and tossing them on the back of their horses. Jake kicks open the locked door to the last of the cabins and levels a shotgun on the third.

"Don't fucking move." He growls, freezing the target in place. He spots movement out of the corner of his eye and hollers for Ripley and Michael as a forth darts past him and out of the door. He swipes the one in front of him with the heel of his shotgun, knocking him cold and tying him swiftly, he hauls the dead weight of the body over his shoulder and carries him out.

"That was easy." He smirks, jovial.

Ripley wrestles the fleeing target to the ground, the pair tussling as Michael brings the horses down for Jake to load up the third of the men.
"Get your fucking hands off me, cunt!" The forth target wriggles beneath Ripley, who curses back at her and binds her tightly.

A shiver runs down Jake's back, and it isn't from the cold. It's something else. An echo. A familiarity. His unconscious bounty loaded on to the back of a pack horse, he turns his attention to Ripley as she gets to her feet and pulls the last target to hers. Shoving the thick, fleece lined hood of a heavy coat off of her face to reveal a mess of blonde waves and wild green eyes. She seethes like a wildcat, all teeth and claws, and when she lays her eyes on Jake the color drains out of her already pale face. Like she'd seen a ghost.

"You.." Jake breathes, his brow knotted in confusion.

"You know her?" Michael asks, moving up beside them.

He steps forward, taking the young woman's chin between his thumb and forefinger, getting a good look at her. She spits at him and Ripley strikes the side of her head, knocking her back down and training her gun on her.

"Should I kill her?" She asks.

"No.." Jake puts his hand out, resting it upon Ripley's forearm. "We take her in."

"Who is she?" Michael asks.

On the ground, muffled by the snow, the target simply laughs. "Go ahead, Jake.. tell them who I am."

All eyes snap to him, and he tastes the bitterness of bile at the back of his throat. The Bounty Poster had only had an alias for her and the drawing hadn't been that good. He hadn't recognized her at all. But he certainly did now.
Swiping her spittle from his cheek, he glowers down at the woman. "Her names Leanna Moore. She used to ride with us.. back then."

"Ride with.." Leanna muses as Ripley hauls her back to her feet. She licks a spot of blood from the side of her mouth. "That's a nice way of puttin' it."
Jake eyes her cautiously, then transfers his attention to Michael. "Lets get off this god forsaken mountain."

Turning, he leaves Leanna in Ripley's care and stalks toward his horse. Whatever it is the woman shouts after him is lost on an icy breeze, but Michael knocks her out cold with the heel of his gun for it.
Big Valley, later that night

The descent from the mountain had been even more perilous than the journey up it's side. The going had been slow and for Jake, the weight of the burden they now carried sat heavily on his shoulders. He was lost in memories, this woman yet another reminder that the past was never far away. That you could run for as long as you wanted, things had a habit of catching up to you.

Sooner or later.

With many miles left to go and the horses exhausted from negotiating the mountain, the decision to pitch camp in Big Valley had been made. They picked up the wagon in which they would transport their prisoners and used it to double as a side for a nights shelter. With canvas and struts, soon enough they had a serviceable protection from the elements.

Jake lit a fire and the three of them ate from their provisions, their captives restrained and gagged, tied to the heavy wheels of the wagon.
While Michael and Jake slept, Ripley took the first watch.

It's some time around 1am when she carefully rouses him. A hand on Jake's shoulder that drags him from an unpleasant dream. His eyes open with a startle, but soften when he sees her crouched before him, exhaustion plain on her face.
"Your turn." She murmurs.

He sits up with a groan, his back protesting and his ribs still sore thanks to old injuries. "Any trouble?" he asks in a whisper.

Ripley shakes her head. "All asleep. Think most of em got headaches."

Smirking, Jake pulls his jacket back on and eases himself to his feet, careful not to wake Michael, though these days the man would probably sleep through a typhoon.

"There's coffee in the pot." Ripley gestures. He simply nods.

"Get some rest."

Yawning, he stretches once he's out of the tent and walks quietly across the fire, fetching himself a cup of coffee, he briefly inspects their captives before settling down to whittle some customized arrows. It would keep him focused and awake.

Perching on a stack of saddle blankets, he draws his knife and gets to work. Occasionally pausing at the sound of an owl or an elk, watching the majestic creatures drink from the creek by the moonlight.

He fixes the metal tip to a finished arrow neck and sets it down on the small pile growing beside him. Picking up another to work on. As he does, the creeping feeling of being watched prickles the hair at the back of his neck. He flicks his eyes up and sure enough, Leanna is awake, watching him.

It's uncomfortable.

"Need somethin'?" He asks in a quiet grunt.

The pretty blonde smiles. "You could untie me, let me go."

A smirk escapes him and he returns to his task, digging the tip of his blade in to the wood.

"So what are you taking us in for? What lies did they tell you?"

"Lies?" he asks curiously, blowing at the end of the arrow. "The Wanted poster is a lie?"

She shrugs casually. "I don't know, probably." There's something melodic to her voice that he didn't remember from before. A sing-song tone to everything she said. The voice of someone that had cracked long ago.

"Poster says you murdered the towns Mayor's niece. Among other things." He supplies, fixing a tip on his arrow and setting it down.

Leanna simply snorts. "Oh, that."

"Hm." Jake grunts in response.

"After you killed Alexander and the gang dispersed, I had to find my own way. There's not many opportunities out there for a girl robbed of her childhood. It was either sell my body or my soul. I figured my soul was already ruined, what's the harm in tainting it a little more?"

Jake glances at her as he wipes off his blade. "So you.. what? Got in with another gang, figured what's a bit more murder on top of all the other murder?"

Leanna's laughter stops in it's tracks and she shoots him an accusatory look. "Oh please, don't you dare try and take the moral high ground around me. I know what you really are."

"And what am I?" He asks her blandly.

She bares her teeth. "A monster. A killer. A savage destroyer of innocent lives. Not.. whatever the hell this is in front of me. Look at you, playing lawful bounty hunter. Do they know what you've done?"

Jake picks up another arrow. "That ain't who I am anymore. You were there, you know what they did to me."

"Oh, yes." She smiles gladly, "burned your love alive. Just like they burned my father. Did she scream?"

He grits his teeth, digging the blade in to wood.

"Did they make you watch?" She tilts her head, looking at him curiously. "That's what happens when you align yourself with devils Jake. They eat you alive. Take everything you love from you."

The blade slips over the softwood and a sliver drifts to the floor. Jake raises it and points the tip toward her. "I suggest shuttin' your mouth."

Leanna's scowl becomes a smile. "Painful, isn't it."

"Yes." He answers simply.

"Tell me, do you feel remorse for all of the terrible things that you have done?"

"I do."

"And yet you deserve a second chance, and I deserve to hang?"

"You had a choice. We all do, the difference between you and me is I woke up. Saw what I'd become."

She laughs, cutting him off before he can finish and rolling her eyes. Jake's mouth snaps shut, his jaw clenching in anger, but also shame.
"No no no.." she bats her eyelashes at him and tuts. "The difference between you and me is I got caught and you didn't. That's all."

"You don't know what you're talking about." He grunts, returning to whittling his arrow.

Her amused smile becomes a sneer. "You think because you fell in love that changes who you are inside? Do you think that all those families of all those people you savagely murdered would forgive you because, aw, you've changed." She mocks him. "You're still a monster, and to those people you tore apart.. those people you stole from, and tortured, you'll always be the worst thing that ever happened to them. There's no making up for that."

"I can try." He mutters, fixated on the tip of the arrow.
"And you will fail."

Silence.

Grinding his teeth, Jake eventually sets down the now over-carved arrow and plucks up a packet of cigarettes. Drawing one from the pack and lighting it, he gazes out over the pre-dawn Big Valley. It was one of the most beautiful places he knew of, and he always liked hunting here.

"Do you remember the night you took me?"

Sighing heavily, Jake closes his eyes to the perfect view. Acknowledging her only with the smallest dip of his chin.

"I can't forget. I've never been able to. It plays over every night when I close my eyes, I barely ever sleep." She laughs, softly. "Perhaps that's why I'm crazy."

Swallowing, Jake lifts the cigarette back to his lips.

"Do you know what he did to me when we got to your camp?"

Jake stares at the glowing tip of the cigarette, like it was the only light in the world.

"I suppose I was one of the lucky ones. He didn't kill me after he was done with me. Though maybe it would have been better if he did, maybe I wouldn't have had to live with this hate in my heart all these years. Maybe I wouldn't have had to become one of you. Maybe I wouldn't have blood on my hands too, or be the reason for another child's nightmares.."

Flinching, he finally looks back to her. "I don't know what you want me to say. What the point of all this is?"

"The point, Jake, is that you shouldn't get to walk away. Not if I don't. You and that monster rode in to our town uninvited and you destroyed everything! You murdered my father, took me from my family.. YOU made me what I am." A tear drips from her eye and the guilt Jake already felt knotted up inside him tangles tighter.

Leanna bites on her top lip, a thinly veiled rage simmering beneath the surface. "I suppose it's only fitting you take me to my death, isn't it." She mutters. "Following more orders. You didn't 'do it', you just took me there. That's what you do. You're like the ferryman on the river Styx, for a piece of silver you take a person from one life to the next.."

"I'm sorry."

The two words are uttered softly and they stop her in her tracks. She stares at him, his eyes on her.

The bitterest whisper of a laugh slips from her. "You're what?"

Jake swallows, lifting his chin and looking her in the eye. "'I'm sorry. For the part I played in what happened to you. I can't change it, I got no excuses for it. I was just.. I didn't know anythin' else back then. I was the same as you. Kilgrave took me from my family when I was just a boy, I don't even remember them."

"Oh poor you."

"I don't expect your sympathy." he shakes his head a little. "I don't expect forgiveness, from you.. or from anybody else. I know the things I did. I'll live with them always and I know eventually it'll all catch up to me. One day I'll stand trial for the things I've done and they'll hang me for em too."

He clears his throat and finishes the cigarette, stubbing it out in the dirt. "But before then I got people to take care of. People I need to see somewhere safe, where they stand a real chance. If I can do one thing right in this life that'll be it. Whatever comes after.. I deserve."

Gazing at him, Leanna leans her head back against the wheel of the wagon she leaned against. Shifting uncomfortably against the restraints that still held her. "So it's about redemption?"

Jake shrugs. "Maybe."

"You really think someone like you can ever be redeemed?"

"I think everyone stands a chance at it, to do something good. To realize..."

"Then turn yourself in."

His eyes flick back to hers and he quiets.

A smirk crawls along her face. "When we reach Blackwater, lets tell them what you have done. Who you really are. Confess. We can hang together. Hallelujah." She giggles. Leaning forward, she whispers. "Or are you just not ready for that much redemption?"

Gritting his teeth, Jake holds her gaze defiantly for a few more moments before getting to his feet, chased by her laughter.

"How disappointing." She muses, and he looks over his shoulder toward her. "As a Villain, you were fearsome. A monster that struck terror and awe in to peoples hearts." Her look of near admiration becomes a sneer, "as a hero, you are a sentimental old fool."

He turns back toward her and reaches for something at the back of his belt. As he approaches, looming over her, a fear returns to her eyes. A glimmer of it, there amidst all the defiance.

"You just going to kill me right here, to prove a point?" She asks as the unmistakable sound of metal unsheathing from leather reaches her ears.
Jake crouches before her, bringing his knife in front of her eyes.

"What if I let you go?" He asks her. "Give you the second chance I have? What if right here, right now, you realize that your life is worth more than this and what happened back then? It doesn't define us. It doesn't have to be all we are."

She gazes back at him, expressionless for a few moments, almost studying him.
"My shot at redemption?" She asks after a while.

Jake dips his head in a nod. "I stole your life. This is the closest I can come to giving it back to you."

"Whatever will your friends think?"

He shrugs.

She smirks.

"What do you say?" He coaxes.
Leaning closer, she whispers against his ear. "I say.. if you let me go I'll lead a better life."

Jake feels the knot of guilt inside untwist the tiniest bit.

"But first.." she continues. "I'll dedicate all I have to destroying everything you love. Your friends, your loved ones.. even your horse. And I'll call it justice. What do you say?"

She pulls back and looks him in the eye as she returns his question.
Jake's hope folds in on itself, and his encouragement becomes a scowl. He sheaths the knife and pulls a bandanna from his pocket. Twisting it, he gags her with it and silences her laughter. Tying it tight enough to hurt, a knot of frustration in the most literal sense.

Stalking away from her he returns to his tent, dumping his gun belt down on Michael's lap and rudely awakening him.

"Your turn to watch her." He grunts, lying down.

Sitting up, Michael frowns. "Everything okay?"

Jake doesn't answer.

Morning comes far too soon and Jake rises in the kind of mood that didn't even need a warning, Ripley and Michael just knew instinctively to keep to themselves and let him brood as they packed up camp and got the prisoners back on the road.

With all of them bound and gagged, it's a mercifully quiet trip.

Michael and Ripley ride on the wagon, while Jake brings up the rear, sat astride Blue and lost in his thoughts. The things Leanna had said to him last night repeating over and over in his head, a war with himself.

He wasn't that man anymore. He wasn't.

Was he?

"You alright?" Michael asks him as they finally arrive in Blackwater and unload the bounties.

Jake grunts his answer. "Will be, once we get this over with."

"What'd she say to you?" He asks, watching as Ripley leads Leanna from the back of the wagon and shoves her toward the Sheriffs office.

Jake lights a cigarette and inhales. "Just some shit about the old days, that's all." A quiet laugh escapes him almost involuntarily. "Said I should hand myself in too, for all the things I done."

Michael blinks, scowling.

"Maybe she's right." Jake continues.

"Bullshit." Michael grunts. "Like you said before, people change. They deserve second chances."

The weight of that statement coming from Michael gives Jake pause, studying the eyes of his lover for a while.

"Do they?" He asks, quietly.

Michael doesn't waver. "If you don't then neither do I."

Jake laughs quietly, bringing his cigarette to his lips. "Then maybe we should all hand ourselves in."

"Maybe." Michael folds his arms and dips his chin in a nod. "Or maybe there are more important things now."

More important things. Like the kids. His family. His flesh and blood infant daughter. All of which he'd kill or be killed to protect.

Jake lowers his eyes, dropping his cigarette and crushing it beneath his boot. The same boots that had crushed the lives of too many people to count.

Michael pats him on the back and squeezes his shoulder, the pair of them heading inside to speak with the Sheriff and collect their bounty money. As it's handed over to them, Leanna speaks up from her cell, her eyes fixed on Jake.
"Anything you wanna tell them, old friend?"

All eyes turn to Jake, and he meets her gaze steadily. Holding it for a moment or two, he flicks the look back toward the Sheriff.

"When she hangs, make sure it's a decent drop. You'll want her neck to break." He says coolly, stuffing the cash in to his pocket and turning away.

Ripley and Michael watch him go with widened eyes. Leanna laughs from her cell.
Outside, Jake offers Blue a peppermint and feels his friends arrive behind him.
"What was that?" Ripley asks.

"Nothin'.." he shrugs, then glances toward the tailor. "Think I'll go get myself some new boots."

***

Blackwater, West Elizabeth.
Morning

Bounty Hunting never stopped feeling hypocritical, but when you had mouths to feed you took the jobs you could get. Still, it always left a sour taste in Jake's mouth, especially when he knew his own dated sketch of an image sat on faded posters around half of America. With Alexander Kilgrave dead and his best known henchmen dispatched by a 'mystery' revenge seeker or two, Jake had largely dropped off most radars.

The Wanted only stayed Wanted until the next big bad came along and covered their poster on a towns message board. They were out there though, and he knew. Wanted for a myriad of things, wanted for being the Kilgrave gangs most rabid enforcer.

Wanted for the murder of Alexander Kilgrave himself.

Yeah, turning in others never felt good. Even less so when it was someone that Jake knew.

They'd spent the night in Blackwater, getting two rooms at the towns saloon. Michael had slept on his own, Jake had slept on the floor of Ripleys room. More comfortable there these days. By morning, his back was a wretched mess of knots but that wasn't really anything new. He hauled himself up and washed his face at the basin, taking advantage of the saloons bath facility too.

He emerges from a steamy bathroom expecting to find Ripley and Michael chomping at the bit to leave. Instead, he finds Michael's room empty and Ripley still asleep.

"Hey.." he wakes her with a hand on her shoulder and she looks at him like he'd just shoved pig shit in her face. "Any idea where Michael went?"

"The fuck should I know?" She grumbles. "I'm sleep."

Jake's eyebrow lifts. "Well you should be 'woke'.. or whatever. We need to get movin'."

"Fiiiiiine." Ripley whines, tugging her covers up higher around her face.

Sighing, Jake heads for the door. "I'm going to find Michael. We're leavin' in an hour."

He's answered with a grunt.

Rolling his eyes, Jake heads out in search of the elusive man. Checking the nearby stores and alleyways, the usual places Michael might be found lurking. Eventually, he arrives on the small, sandy shore that looked out to a busy fishing route. The morning sun rising over the water, sparkled and danced across it's surface. Quite beautiful really, refreshing and warming all at once.

As he gazes out at the dawn, his eyes drift and eventually spot the black shroud of Michael, standing at the end of the pier looking out across the water.

For a while, he just watches him. His mind swirling with a thousand different thoughts and feelings. 'Just leave him here' battling with 'but he didn't leave you'.. which was in a knock down drag out fight with 'he almost killed you'. 'But he saved you'. 'It wasn't him that did these things'.

Jake closes his eyes, the argumentative thoughts almost too much for his brain, especially at this time in the morning. He gathers up his will and heads across Blackwaters docks. His heavy booted footsteps give him away on the pier, he sees Michael prickle, sensing company. He likely knew who it was.

"Didn't take you for a stop and smell the roses type.." Jake muses as he arrives beside him, following the mans stoic gaze out across the water.

"Cause I'm not." Michael answers bluntly. "Just getting some air, that saloon smelled like farmers ass."

Jake smirks. "Fair enough."

He rests his hands on the rail a moment, looking out at a Seagull hovering above the gentle waves, hunting for it's breakfast. Michael chances a look at him.

"Jake, can we.. talk?"

Lifting a brow, Jake doesn't look at him, just continues watching the gull. "I don't know, can we?"

"I'd hope so. We used to."

"Yeah.. we did."

"I never meant to hurt you, you know that, right?" Michael murmurs after a drawn out silence.

With his eyes drifting to the water and the reflection of the gull distorted upon it, Jake dips his chin in acknowledgement. "But it doesn't change the fact that you did."

"You've asked forgiveness for far more than I ever have.."

"No. I haven't." Jake finally turns his gaze to the other man. "I don't expect anybody I hurt in the past to forgive me, I'd never ask it of 'em."

"But you're always preachin' second chances." Michael argues.

"It ain't the same thing."

"How isn't it?!"

Jake draws in a deep breath, leveling him with his eyes. "I never loved any of the people I hurt. Not like you were supposed to love me."

Michael's eyes immediately sink away as Jake goes on.

"Those people.. I'll take their pain and what I did to them to the grave with me. I can't make shit up to them. Ever. I can't give them back loved ones or rebuild the homes we burned. I'm sick and sorry for every one of em.. but I never loved them. You don't hurt who you love, at least you're not supposed to." Gritting his teeth, Jake looks back out toward the water, struggling to keep his anger and frustration and sadness bubbling beneath the surface. He didn't want it to explode, not out here.

"You told me you loved me, yet you turned to a demon for strength. You had plans.." Jake scoffs, laughing bitterly. "Plans far bigger than anythin' to do with me. Clearly. Or did you just want it to help you control us? Control me?"

Michael blinks, snapping his eyes back to him and shaking his head. "No, I never.. it wasn't like that. It wasn't supposed to effect you.."

"Then what was it like, Michael?!" Jake raises his voice a little louder than intended, and quickly hushes it again. "What were you plannin' on doing? What did you need a goddamn Demon to give you that evidently I couldn't.. or anyone. A Demon? Seriously?!"

Snorting, Jake shakes his head and looks away, eyes settling on some fishing boat far out on the morning horizon. "I thought devils were just people." He murmurs. "People gone in the head. I thought that was where real evil came from. I feel like I was raised by one. But you.. you went lookin' for the real deal, and you found it. What kind of person does that make you?"

He looks back to Michael pointedly.

"The kind of person I can trust? The kind of person I want helpin' me raise my daughter? The kind of person I wanna sleep beside ever again?" The sadness of it all cracks his voice, because try as he might to fend it off, there were feelings that were still there. But so were the memories.. "you know what it did to me, and you think I can just forget all that?"

Frowning, Michael lifts his eyes to him. "You wanted to take it on, you were looking for a fight that day.."

Jake nearly snarls. "I ain't talkin' about that."

"Then what are you talkin' about?"

Jake studies him through narrowed eyes. "You're tellin' me you didn't know?"

"Know what?"

Jake's teeth clench and his brow furrows so tightly it hurts him. ".. how many times I woke up to that thing?"

Silence. Confusion. Michael's mouth opens and for a moment no sound comes out. "What are you saying?"

Jake laughs, but cold and void of any humor. "I shared a bed with you over a year, you figure it out."

"I don't.. Jake.." Michael hesitates, then gently reaches his hand out to him. "I didn't know.."

"Don't touch me." Jake flinches away and instead just squares up to him. "Your choices fucked us both, Vin. Maybe I can forgive you. But I'll never forget. Don't ask me to."

With that, Jake backs away from him and turns to return to their horses. He wanted nothing more than to track down a hungover Ripley and go the hell home. This had been the weekend trip of nightmares, as far as he was concerned.

"So what, you want me to go?" Michael calls after him.

Jake stops, looking back over his shoulder. "What I want is for you to take responsibility. For what you did, and for this Family you almost led straight to hell. Somewhere most of us are tryin' to claw our way free from in the first place."

He goes to keep walking and as he does, Michael calls after him again.

"Jake!"

"What?" He turns wearily, facing him as he follows.

"I'm sorry." Michael says it the most sincerely Jake had ever heard, and yet.. it wasn't enough to make the horrors he'd put them through go away.

He swallows, mulling the apology over for a moment and eventually just nodding. His voice coming out in a whispered rasp. "Me too."

Michael's shoulders sag.

Somewhere, the Blackwater Butcher yells his latest deal, and a carriage driver calls for passengers. The busy town bustling all around them as it woke.

"Lets just.. go the hell home." Jake mutters eventually. "We got a family to take care of."