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Drifting of the West

Summary:

New and inexperienced outlaw Charles, finds himself joining forces with the reluctant and otherwise stoic lone-wolf outlaw Erik. Relations blossom in the quiet corners of the Wild West, and somewhere along the way, bonds are formed and old wounds are healing, but things don't always go the way we want them too, in the Wild West.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The western wind was harsh against his ears as they rode through the night frozen dessert. The sound of the horse’s hooves banging against the solid dirt ground rang throughout the night. They had been riding for 3 days straight now, nothing out of the ordinary for Erik, but it was painfully obvious how his unlikely companion was feeling about it, considering his constant squirming in the saddle, and the periodical sigh he would let out every 5 minutes. “five more minutes till we’re there kid, stop sighing” he grumbled over his shoulder, glaring at the other man who looked half asleep on top of his horse. “sorry” Charles mumbled back “and I’m not a kid” he grumbled.
“so you keep saying” Erik replied dryly, “then stop acting like one” he huffed.
“I wouldn’t be this sore if we had stopped to sleep in the last forest” Charles said.
“and I told you it wasn’t safe, you’re a terrible cowboy” Erik grumbled in reply.
“so you keep saying” Charles sighed.
They had been partners now for 2 months, Erik had never wanted a partner, he had always been a lone outlaw, preferred it quite frankly. Being alone meant no attachments, nothing holding him back and nothing to lose, exactly as Erik preferred it. But, then Charles Xavier came along.

It had been a day like any other, Erik had stopped at a random small town by the name of Willintown to restock on food for himself and his horse, for once having some coins to his name from the last successful bounty job. He had even almost made it back out of the town before he had been approached by a young man on his own horse. The man had begged and pleaded with him to help, visibly shaken and afraid, rambling about misunderstandings and accidents, and then he had said the name Wyatt Payne, and Erik remembered how the hairs on his neck had instantly stood straighter than a tree, by the mention of Sheriff Payne. After that, there had been little to no choice for Erik, shots had started ringing in the air, and Erik saw the big sky of dust approach, accompanied by Payne and his men. Erik had barely had any chance to react before the shots had started raining in their direction, and before he knew of it, he was waving a, follow me, motion towards the other man, setting into a quick gallop.
By some miracle, and a lot of shooting from Erik’s side, the two of them had escaped and sought refuge in the nearest forest. Immediately Erik had told the kid to ride south and refused every suggestion of letting him ride with him. But, they had been forced to keep hiding in the forest for the rest of the day and night, and by noon they had left the forest together. If anyone asked, Erik would say he took Charles under his wing to use the other for his money, but deep down, he knew it was for much less explainable reasons.

That night he had learned a lot about Charles Xavier, mostly due to the other man’s inability to keep his mouth shut for more than a minute. He learned that Charles had come from a wealthy family, and that he wasn’t all that much younger than Erik himself, he also learned that Charles had been forced into the outlaw life, how or why he didn’t specify, but he did tell the story of how he had accidentally insulted the infamous sheriff, after seeing how he had been treating a young woman in a saloon, hence the sheriff and his men chasing him.

After the first month of traveling together, he had warmed up to Charles. In him he saw a kind heart and a willingness to do what was right, even if it meant putting himself in danger, and Erik had a hard time not admiring that kind of bravery, even if Charles was quite the horrible outlaw, and somewhat of an aristocrat. So, that was how the two men came to be unlikely partners.

Erik had quickly insisted that if they were to ride together, Charles would have to at least learn the basics of the western life, which Charles had reluctantly agreed to. Charles had been hesitant in the beginning, knowing full well the risks that came with riding with an outlaw, but upon further dwelling, he realized that this may very well be his best shot at survival. He had no home to return too anymore, and the west was not made for people of his kind. Charles was never cut out to be a cowboy, he didn't have the skills or the stomach for it, but he was a quick learner and was determined to make a life for himself in the Wild West.

Erik and him were opposites, that much was clear to Charles. There was no doubt in his mind that Erik was a skilled cowboy and survivalist. Erik was a man of few words and didn’t often waste his breath on mindless chatter, and Charles found the no-nonsense attitude refreshing compared to that of his companions and family back home, as well as the few other cowboys he had encountered who were boastful and full of bluster. In many ways, the directness only made Charles trust the other man faster, and despite the rough exterior Charles could see how much good was still left in the heart of the tough outlaw.
Around the 3-week mark of them riding together, was also when their ideologies had first clashed, Charles was of the hopeful sort, that much he knew, and if you asked Erik, he was an idealistic and pacifistic fool. It wasn’t that Erik condoned violence, but he saw it as a necessary evil for survival in contrast to Charles who preferred to avoid it at all cost. In the end though, they came to a mutual agreement, that even if of different opinions, Charles would still need to learn the art of shooting, even if he insisted that it was for protection reasons only. That was also how Erik found out that Charles just might be the worst shot he had ever met, his inability to aim and control the weapon was quite laughable, and not that Erik would admit it to Charles, but their first practice session together was possibly the hardest he had laughed in years.

The night was even colder than before when Erik finally agreed for them to take rest in a dehydrated birch forest. “I doubt I’m gonna be able to ride tomorrow, with how bad my legs are hurtin, not to mention my poor arse” Charles complained, removing the saddle from his horse, and setting out food and water for both their horses bound to a nearby tree, whilst Erik laid out their blankets and started on a fire.
“would you rather be awoken by a dang pistol to your forehead then” Erik grumbled in reply, moving to lay on his blanket by the fire, arms crossed lazily behind his head.
“well, when you put it like that” Charles mumbled before coming to take his spot on the blanket, on the opposite side of the fire.
Cicadas chided around them, singing songs of love and passion, as Charles stared into the fire that danced in front of him, like wild horses on the prairie.
“Erik, can I ask you a question?” Charles asked gently, not moving his gaze from the fire. “Jesus kid, can’t you be quiet for five seconds” Erik replied, letting out a deep sigh, “but since the answer to that is probably no, then sure” he conceded, turning his gaze to rest on Charles.
There were a few beats of silence before Charles continued, “why did you become an outlaw? Surely it hasn’t always been like this for you right?” Charles questioned, voice gentle, wary of Erik’s reaction to the personal question considering he normally seemed to avoid or disregard anything too personal Charles would ask him. As Charles predicted, his question was firstly met with a deep sigh and then silence, what he didn’t predict, was for Erik to start speaking after a few minutes. “you’re right, it wasn’t always like this” Erik confessed, catching Charles eyes from across the fire. “but I made the biggest mistake you can make out here, I cared for someone” he continued, “sure, childhood was rough, but I… I made a life for myself” Erik told, suddenly breaking his gaze with Charles to stare at the ground, reconsidering if he should really tell Charles all of this, but coming up short handed on reasons why not to, other than the creeping dread of feeling vulnerability. “I.. had a romantic partner, and a kid” Erik confessed, voice cracking on the last syllable.
Meanwhile, Charles was watching him with big wide blue eyes, “you really don’t have to continue if you don’t want to” Charles whispered over the sounds of the fire crackling.
“I want to” Erik replied sternly, coughing to clear his throat.
“things were good, right until they weren’t, right until someone decided that I was makin too much pay, and decided it was worth shootin up my home cuz of it” Erik told, staring intently at the ground.
“course I wasn’t home when it happened, just returned home one lone Tuesday to find both of em dead, in a pool of their own blood” he sneered, memories filling his head and making him tear up. “nothin I could do” he whispered “other than revenge. And let’s just say, one dead man later and my face was on one of them outlaw posters” he said, looking back to meet Charles equally moved gaze, “so I figured why not just roll with it” he finished, laying his head back down on his crossed arms, staring solemnly at the sky.
“oh, my friend. I am so sorry” Charles said gently, eyes laser focused on the other, frowning as Erik only gave a small dismissive noise. “you didn’t deserve that, they didn’t deserve that” Charles whispered, moving to lay down as well, mirroring Erik.
“it taught me that I’m not made for normal life, and that attachments are the worst thing out here in the west” Erik murmured.
“I don’t believe that’s true” Charles replied instantly. “I know you don’t” Erik replied, and Charles could hear the wry smile in his voice.
“I lost my family too” Charles started gently, listening to the rustle of Erik’s blanket as he turned his attention on him. “but I’m afraid I don’t miss them half as much as I bet you do with yours” he confessed.
“why is that?” Erik asked, his interest peaked.
“my father, he was a bad man, my mother was a drunk” Charles told, “but, somehow both agreed that I was some kind of devil spawn, and kicked me to the curb” Charles said, leaving out the grim details of how he had been beaten to a pulp before having an exorcism preformed on him.
“why would they think that? You don’t exactly strike me as a modern-day Lucifer” Erik said, laughing dryly.
Charles chuckled lightly himself, “no I suppose not. But, you see. I am an unspeakable, of the Oscar Wilde sort” Charles whispered cautiously, awaiting the others reaction.
“well. I’m sure that Oscar Wilde fella is a mighty fine man then” Erik replied, shrugging at the admission.
Charles couldn’t help but laugh at that, he couldn’t tell if Erik had even caught what he was insinuating, but somehow, he still felt safe and accepted.
“I suppose you’re one of the rare few who thinks so” Charles replied, turning his head to smile at Erik from across the fire. “suits me just fine” Erik replied, shrugging again.

After that, more months seemed to fly by quicker than a wild fire, and before they knew, the two men had grown closer than a saddle on a horse's withers.
The day was warm and their clothes stuck to their sweat dripping bodies when they rode into the town of Spelgridge. They had successfully captured a wanted man the week prior, and their pockets were heavy with coin. Erik had wanted to save it for a possible home, had somewhere deep down had the hope that Charles would have the same idea. But, he had no courage to even propose the idea to the other, it felt too soon, to intimate of a suggestion even if Erik had come to realize that it was what he desired. Somewhere along the road, Erik realized that he had grown tired of the life of an outlaw and the constant running and hiding that came with it, and without his conscious permission, he had begun to see Charles as a way out, a possible future lighter than what he had imagined he could ever have again after losing his family.
Charles however, had suggested spending some of the coins on a good hotel room and a warm meal and who was Erik to deny him. So, they had done just that, after sharing a hearty meal they had stayed in their room for the rest of the day and night, simply enjoying the concept of a wooden sky and a feathered bed. It was the morning after, where everything had gone wrong.

They had been in the midst of saddling up the horses when a single warning shot rung through the air of the town, everything and everyone going eerily quiet all of a sudden.
Both of them had turned around in record time, drawing their pistols to point towards the sound. Erik had half a second to feel a sense of pride at Charles reaction time, before dread filled his stomach with stones, when he cast eyes on the people opposite of them. Wyatt Payne and four of his men were lined up on the street, guns pointed directly at him and Charles. “shit” Erik whispered under his breathe, holding direct eye contact with Payne who was now sinisterly smiling at him.
“well, well, what do we have here?” Payne questioned tauntingly, moving a few steps closer. “Payne, we don’t want no trouble” Erik said cautiously, steeping forward himself, feeling better with Charles behind him.
“well, perhaps you gents should have thought about that before you went and got your mugs plastered on them wanted posters” Payne replied with snide and a humorless chuckle.
“please, we’re not harming no one” Erik said, knowing that it was a plead for mercy that met deaf ears.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you boys go” Payne replied, and that was all Erik needed to hear before he shoved Charles to the ground, and fired his first round of bullets.

Just like that, all hell broke loose in the small western town, townsfolk scrambled for hiding, just like how Erik and Charles scrambled for cover, hiding behind a water station for the horses as Erik continued to fire bullets in the direction of Payne and his men, who were now firing back just as enthusiastically. Charles too fired at the general direction of the other men, but his hands shook and fear had paralyzed most of his body, bullets whizzing past in all directions around him.
By some miracle, Erik downed 3 of the men, only Payne and one other left, he painstakingly also realized that he only had one bullet left. Rational thought left behind, Erik decided to jump out from behind the metal, aiming and shooting the man beside Payne. His gun clicked mockingly as he pointed the gun towards Payne, he knew there were only seconds till Payne’s own bullets would barrel through his chest, but to his surprise the shot never rang.
Slowly he dared to reopen his eyes, and in none of his wildest dreams would he have imagined the sight that met him. In front of him, Payne laid in a pool of his own blood, a round and heavy rock lying tauntingly besides his head, and beside him stood a young woman who could be no less than twenty. Distantly he felt Charles come up behind him, placing a comforting hand on his arm, as they together watched the rest of the townspeople re-emerge from the shadows, coming to stand beside the girl and in front of Erik and Charles, all staring down at the dead sheriff.

Erik was still processing when he was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of loud cheering. Confusedly him and Charles looked at each other for a few beats, before turning back to stare at the now cheering townsfolk. Suddenly people started coming towards them, many wanting to shake hands, and one older man even pulling Erik in for a tight hug, which left them both further confused.
“I don’t understand, what exactly is going on?” Charles asked an older woman who had thanked him and shaken his hand too many times. “you’ve saved us” she cried, others nodding and speaking their agreements, “for years, Payne and his men have haunted this town” the girl that had ended Payne said, “but thanks to you, we’re free” she said, smiling her widest smile at the two men.
After being filled in on the numerous ways Payne and his men had tormented the small town, Erik and Charles were both showered in small gifts and wishes of good luck, and not long after, were they back on their horses, both of them bearing big smiles directed at each other.

They had not yet ridden all the way out of the small town, when it happened.
A single loud shot had rung through the silent air. Charles had instantly drawn his revolver, turning his body as much as it would allow him when seated on a horse.
What he saw made him pale, Payne was standing in the middle of the road, gun pointed directly in their direction, his unoccupied hand clutching his side and his face stained with blood. Charles watched as Payne’s fingers moved to the trigger again, and before he knew, Charles had fired a single shot, hitting Payne square in the chest, his body falling to the dusty ground with a heavy thud.
Excitement shot through Charles system, and his first instinct was to instantly turn towards Erik, happily exclaiming “did you see that Erik, I hit him! I did it! I hit something” he laughed in joy.
The joy was short-lived though. Erik was staring back at him, face pale, eyes haunted, mouth slightly agape. His horse tripped back and forth anxiously, and before Charles had time to react, Erik slid from the horse and landed on the hard ground with a thud, instantly spurring Charles into action who jumped off of his own horse immediately, running towards his friend, who was now lying on the hard ground, clutching him stomach.
Charles fell on his knees beside the other, frantically looking from his pale face, to where his hand was clutching a stomach stained with blood.

“no. no, no, no” Charles muttered, removing Erik’s hand to look at where he had been shot. “What do I do? please Erik what do it do?!” he asked, staring desperately at the trembling man. Erik coughed a few times before words could escape his throat, “nothin you can do” he rasped.
“No, please Erik, there has to be something, I’ll run into town, there has to be someone” Charles panicked, eyes flying around, looking for a solution. He barely got to move a knee, with the purpose of getting up, before Erik grabbed his hand, dragging him back down to a kneeling position. “stay, stay” Erik rasped, body shaking with wet coughs.
“okay” Charles whispered back, grabbing Erik's one hand with both of his, clinging to it like it was a lifeline between them both.
Erik tried to contain his gasps and whimpers, but his lungs felt like they were on the verge of collapsing in on themselves and his hand felt ice cold against Charles warm ones.
“I’m sorry” he gasped, trying to keep his eyes focused on the other man.
Charles watched helplessly as Erik's breathing became shallow and ragged.
He knew that there was nothing he could do to save him, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it. Not only had Erik saved him in more ways than one, he had more importantly become the family that Charles had been missing. Erik cared for him in his own ways, he had taught him survival. He had become someone Charles could imagine the rest of his life with.
"Please don't go," Charles whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I need you, Erik. You can't leave me." He said, tears spilling from his eyes.
Erik could do nothing but smile weakly at Charles, tightening his grip on his hand.
“You've given me something, that I never thought I could have again: a home, a family. You made me believe that there was more to life than running and hiding, you gave me hope Charles, I can die happy” Erik managed to rasp out between ragged breaths, his own eyes spilling over with tears of pain.
“but you’re my family too” Charles cried, moving one of his hands to caress and support Erik’s head that was starting to loll to one side. “I can’t do this without you” he whispered, tears dripping onto their conjoined hands.
“yes, you can, I believe in you” Erik replied, his eyes closing as his breathing finally seemed to slow down, ultimately coming to a stop.
Charles watched Erik's breathing even out, and when the man had grown completely still, Charles finally allowed himself to bow his head, crying into Erik’s stained shirt.

With the help of the villagers from Spelgridge, Charles had Erik buried in a peaceful meadow, surrounded by the beauty of the wild west, three crosses impaled in the ground beside each other.

 

There, they would continue to stand for many years, and if a lonesome cowboy would come riding through town once a year, riding directly to the meadow, laying flowers and occasionally fixing any cross that had deteriorated with weather and time, that was no one’s business but his own.

Notes:

Sorry that this took me so long to release, i originally wrote this for a school assignment (i have graduated so long ago, that's how long ive been putting off posting this, opps) But i really hope you enjoyed it!