He's started to measure time in how long it takes to heal wounds. His arm? Not at all long, it's a blink of an eye. The Gatling gun tore strips through muscle and flesh, but quick enough, it was back to normal. In the time it takes to do that, Faraday doesn't really do much healing at all, but it's a miracle that he's still alive. For all the prayers Vasquez gives, he doesn't know why God decided to listen to this one, saving Billy and Jack, Goodnight and Faraday.
He knows he doesn't have to sit around and fuss, but the town's people have better things to do and he doesn't want to subject anyone to Faraday's healing if they don't need to be. At first, he does it out of obligation. Truthfully, the man might be an annoying cabron, but Vasquez also likes to give as much as he gets and Faraday never flinched on that. It had been good, nice, having a guerito to tease and push at. Over the time while he healed, Vasquez started to realize that maybe, just maybe, the ill will didn't run so deep.
Maybe there was something else he's been ignoring, too, something too difficult to explain. It's the something that flickers poorly when he thinks of Faraday being dead. It's the something that twitches when he thinks of Faraday leaving town without him.
Today, though, is a day for only good things. The local doctor has said that after a long period of rest and recuperation, they're willing to allow Faraday to go his own way. Vasquez should be happy, yes? Instead, he's smoking his third cigar of the day compulsively as he sits in the chair of Faraday's healing room, not sure what he's going to do next, but also not sure that he wants to look so desperate that he's willing to throw his hat into whatever direction Faraday chooses to ride in.
"Sam, I think he says he'll take you," Vasquez comments, staring down at the burning tip of the cigar, letting his hat keep his eyes from giving too much away, "if you wanted to go with him." Vasquez had been thinking of it, but no. Sam deals with too many bounty hunters, that's a path he can't cross, not if he wants to keep his head. "Careful, though, he might blackmail you with another horse. Look how that wound up," he jokes darkly.
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He knows he doesn't have to sit around and fuss, but the town's people have better things to do and he doesn't want to subject anyone to Faraday's healing if they don't need to be. At first, he does it out of obligation. Truthfully, the man might be an annoying cabron, but Vasquez also likes to give as much as he gets and Faraday never flinched on that. It had been good, nice, having a guerito to tease and push at. Over the time while he healed, Vasquez started to realize that maybe, just maybe, the ill will didn't run so deep.
Maybe there was something else he's been ignoring, too, something too difficult to explain. It's the something that flickers poorly when he thinks of Faraday being dead. It's the something that twitches when he thinks of Faraday leaving town without him.
Today, though, is a day for only good things. The local doctor has said that after a long period of rest and recuperation, they're willing to allow Faraday to go his own way. Vasquez should be happy, yes? Instead, he's smoking his third cigar of the day compulsively as he sits in the chair of Faraday's healing room, not sure what he's going to do next, but also not sure that he wants to look so desperate that he's willing to throw his hat into whatever direction Faraday chooses to ride in.
"Sam, I think he says he'll take you," Vasquez comments, staring down at the burning tip of the cigar, letting his hat keep his eyes from giving too much away, "if you wanted to go with him." Vasquez had been thinking of it, but no. Sam deals with too many bounty hunters, that's a path he can't cross, not if he wants to keep his head. "Careful, though, he might blackmail you with another horse. Look how that wound up," he jokes darkly.