Warning: May be disturbing to some as it involves a glimpse at Chris' dark side from Mary's point of view.
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. I don't own the characters. Only using them for a short time and will return them in relatively the same shape as when borrowed.
Author's Note: I have absolutely no idea where this piece came from. I sat down to 'try' to work on another story and this flowed from my fingers. But, as my muse has been painfully absent lately, I relish her return - in whatever form. Am curious as to what you think of this one. And finally, as always feedback is always appreciated.
Sometimes I forget.
I don't think about the other side of you.
I focus on the part that makes me happy. I see the good man - the protector. I see the man who stood up for the Chinese workers. The customer who helped the working girls, even when others told you to ignore them - including, I am ashamed to say, me. The man who fought the ranchers to make sure they wouldn't force good, honest people from their homesteads. The regulator who breaks up barroom brawls, stops bank robbers, and reigns in rowdy cowboys with a shot in the air and a growled 'that's enough.'
I see the man who can make my son laugh and smile simply by saying hello. The man who can teach him what honor, loyalty and friendship really mean. You teach him everyday by your example.
I see the good side of you. The man who can send a thrill through my being simply by walking into the room. I wonder if you know your power over me. Do you know that the simple placement of your hand on my back causes a shiver of desire to tear through my soul? Do you know your smile warms and caresses me like the feel of your fingers tracing down my face? Do you know that when you leave town, part of me is missing until you return?
Do you know that all of these things make me forget? Forget that you have a dark side too.
I forget about it until it rears in front of me like an angry stallion, hoofs pawing the air, oblivious to anything but crushing the enemy that dares to challenge his authority. There is no discrimination between the challenger or innocent bystanders. There is only the need to lash out - to stop what is disrupting your peace.
I see it before me now.
It is not directed at me, yet, I know I could be caught in the fray for I am far too close to it. It is not my choice to be here, but the man holding me and the knife pressed against my throat dictates otherwise.
I should be afraid, but I'm not.
Instead, I find I am fascinated by the 'new' man in front of me. My mind begins to study you like an experiment in a laboratory. I note your reactions, your cues. Your body stalks forward, each step deliberate, yet unplanned. You don't flinch at the yells and screams from the town folks around us as the events unfold before them.
You never pause in your advance, despite the warnings being issued that I will be killed if you don't stop. The gun in your hand never wavers from its target. Your voice is low - a deep, throaty menacing growl. Vaguely I realize that you are telling the man to let me go. He tightens his grip in response. I feel the blade prick my skin. The warm trickle of blood begins to ooze down my neck.
I see your gaze flicker ever so briefly to the blood. I can tell by the enlargement of your pupils and the flaring of your nostrils that you see it, smell it. Your jaw hardens even more as you clamp your teeth together tighter than before. I see the vein in your temple pulse with each beat of your heart. Again, you growl a warning, only this time, it is followed by a small smile. A blackness settles into your eyes.
Your prey senses the change. So do I.
Death stands before us now.
When he takes an involuntary step backwards, I must go with him. You follow, shadowing his movements. Each step you take taunts and mocks him. He cannot get away now. He cannot escape. He must face the devil and defeat him or be lost forever. There is no other way.
I wonder where the other part of you - the good side - goes during these times. Is he there, just out of sight, patiently waiting for the moment when he can once again reappear? Or is the one that keeps you from opening fire without discrimination for others around you?
Movement to your side draws my attention. Vin is there. He, too, has a blackness in his eyes, a deliberateness to his approach. In his hand, he holds his pistol. It seems odd to me to see him with something other than his mare's leg.
Buck is on the other side. I can tell from the rapid breathing and frantic turning of my abductor's head, the others are there too, surrounding us.
Tremors pass through my body. One of us is shaking. Maybe both. I don't know. I can't think about it right now. Nor can I think about the pain in my neck nor the stickiness of my collar. I know I am not bleeding enough to cause death. If I had been, I would be passing out by now.
You say something again. I feel my captor's grip tighten momentarily before I am suddenly thrown sideways to the ground. Gunshots rip through the air.
Hands descend on me, helping me to sit up as other hands are on my neck, stopping the bleeding. A short distance away, the man who had grabbed me to use as a shield is laying in the street. His empty, lifeless eyes stare at me.
Did he hurt me? Your words draw my eyes away from his. You are kneeling beside me now. The darkness is gone from your face and has been replaced with something akin to regret. You - the man I know and love - has reappeared.
You repeat the words - am I alright? Hesitantly, I nod once. Nathan says he needs to get me to the clinic. You help me up and we begin moving slowly down the street. As we walk, I am watching you.
And wondering how I could ever forget.
the end (I think)
11/01
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