#sethra

"Please sit, Mr. Bullock. Let's get you cleaned up." Ezra slips his hand from Seth's to pour the pitcher of water into the basin. With one hand he dips a washcloth in and wrings it out. 

"Will you tell me who has provoked such ire in you that leaves you bloodied, bruised, and darkening my door this evening, Mr. Bullock? Or should I assume it was that cocksucker shouting about soaps again?" Ezra returns to Seth's side only to kneel at Seth's feet. Seth can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

Ezra takes Seth's hand in his, holding it gently as he dabs away the blood. Seth hisses at the cold contact of the wet cloth.

"It wasn't the soap guy."

"Shame." Ezra smiles up at Seth before continuing to wipe the blood away.

"I don't know his name. He was drunk and he made ill remarks about your character that I would not wish to repeat." Seth scrunches up his nose. With his hat in his lap, his unoccupied hand comes up to rub his nose. 

"Mr. Bullock, you need not assault citizens on my account. I appreciate you defending my honor, but you needn't cause bodily harm. Though I must admit I find myself quite amorous toward the idea that you would do such a thing for me." Ezra wipes away the last drops of blood on Seth's hand. He brings Seth's knuckles to his lips.

"Ezra." Seth croaks as his cheeks redden.

"Let me bandage your poor hand."

"Fuck the bandages," Seth says as he takes Ezra’s face into his hands kissing him like he wished he did days ago. Why did he wait so long to do this? Why was he so scared of something so sweet?

“My beloved you best settle yourself down or I have a mind to overturn our agreement of a slow courtship to skip right to the wedding night.” Ezra teases, smiling as he crawls up from the floor and into Seth’s lap.

“Perhaps we should stop?” Seth asks lightly though he continues to kiss Ezra.

“Perhaps we should.” 

Their journey out had been a long but filled with greater physical affection than Seth had yet experienced with Ezra, and with the weight of society and the unwanted gazes of others lifted from their shoulders, he felt comfortable enough to even initiate some of them. It was after retrieving their quarry, their bounty carefully stowed away within crates and wrapped in brown paper, that they ran into trouble.

They had been vaguely aware of their tail for a few hours, having caught sight of them just before entering one of the more treacherous passes, but they had lost sight of them fairly soon after. Neither of them had been fool enough to believe they had lost them entirely though, and they had been vigilant ever since. It wasn’t until they started to make camp that night that they heard tell of them again.

Ezra, who had been his ever talkative self as they’d started to set up their bed rolls, was the first to indicate he had spotted their approach when he settled his hand on his gun, never once stopping in his excited chatter about how much he was looking forward to sharing the treasure trove of knowledge that they had gathered for the children. By the time the two men had stepped into the ring of firelight on the opposite side of the fire, they were prepared.

“A good evening to you gentlemen,” Ezra said in greeting as they stared at their guests down the barrel of both their own pistols and that of their uninvited guests. “To what do we owe your most unexpected and gracious presence at our fireside this splendid night?”

“Drop your guns,” the man on the right -- undoubtedly the leader -- said, an uninventive conversation starter in Seth’s opinion.

“That ain’t happenin’,” Seth said, keeping his gun trained on them. “Why don’t you and your two friends here take a nice walk down the pass and leave us to our night, and we won’t have to put holes in you.”

A second snorted. “We ain’t the ones outnumbered.”

Seth pulled back the hammer on his pistol, and he heard the action echo around him, including one from behind. A slight flick of the finger from Ezra and he knew that his partner was aware of their situation.

“Now, drop your guns,” the first man said, “and we won’t shoot ya full of holes.”

Seth disliked the smirk on his face on principal, and liked him even less for disturbing their much anticipated night of respite from the rest of the world.

Ezra carefully uncocked his gun, raising his other hand. “Now now, no need for us to be getting ahead of ourselves before we’ve established the particulars of what the situation is between us. Would you perhaps be able to explain the reason behind our predicament, and perhaps make this a more amenable situation and point your firearms elsewhere than at our persons?”

There was a long pause, one where only the crackling off the fire could be heard and Seth could all but smell the scent of an oncoming shootout, but then the supposed leader of this little group snorted and shook his head.

“You talk too much.”

What happened next was a bit of a blur, as all shootouts were. Seth wouldn’t have been able to say who exactly shot first, just that Ezra‘s shoulder was hitting his side in a moment, and they were both tumbling to the floor as bullets tore through the air. He shot a little wildly when heard Ezra grunt in pain, but he couldn’t let his focus waver or they’d both end up dead. He was caught by surprise when Ezra gripped him tighter and rolled them again,getting fresh mud all over them as more shots ended up in the ground where they’d been.

Not giving the world a chance to stop spinning, Seth fired almost blindly, but he was rewarded with a gasped grunt followed by the shadow of a man falling to the ground. Breathing hard, he listened carefully for any further movement, but all that was left was the fire and Ezra’s breathing in his ear.

“Did you get them?” Ezra asked, his voice rough in Seth’s ear before he had the chance to sit up.

“I believe I did,” Seth replied, heaving himself to his feet as he kept his eyes on the three now still bodies scattered about their camp before reaching down to pull Ezra up after him. He was sorely tempted to break from his watch when he heard Seth hiss, but he didn’t, pointing his revolver at the nearest attempted robber. “Are you shot?”

“Just a flesh wound,” Ezra replied as Seth gave the body a nudge with his foot, then turned it over to be sure. “Best to give it some inspectin’ though; I do believe that the bullet has lodged itself within the muscle of my arm quite firmly, possibly due to coming up against the wall of bone in its path.”

“That’s not just a ‘flesh wound’, May,” Seth said, the temptation to return to his side growing exponentially, but there were still two other bodies to inspect before he could allow himself the privilege.

“It is compared to what it could have been,” Ezra said, and this time Seth did look.

The school teacher was clutching at his arm, the oily glint of blood painting his fingers and the fabric of the back of his shirt sleeve, but it was his eyes, the way they held a slowly calming edge of fear as they held Seth in place, that made Seth finally realise what he was saying.

“... That close?”

“If I hadn’t given you that timely push, I… I suspect it would be our bodies fertilising the local flora,” Ezra said.

Seth was before him in a moment, holding his hand to his lover’s cheek and brushing his thumb under those pained eyes before he leaned close to kiss him. Their lips, desperate and yearning, locked together and seeking for purchase, could only connect for a fragment of the time either of them wished for, but Seth was still too tense to let himself linger.

“Thank you,” he said, their breath still lingering between them before he pulled away to examine the two other bodies. “I’ll take a look at that wound after I’ve made sure our unexpected guests have been properly taken care of.”

“Okay,” Ezra said, and Seth felt his hand linger on his back until he stepped out of reach. The warmth of his touch lingered as he completed his inspection, though it had unfortunately faded by the time he had to drag the bodies away to bury.

The dead would have to wait though, as the living had a greater priority.

Ezra had managed to remove his vest and shirt by the time Seth had returned to his side, revealing the wound. It was a wider cavity than Seth had expected, and he suspected that, had he been so inclined, he would be able to fit his thumb inside with no real difficulty, right down to the bone that had been exposed and the bullet casing that had lodged itself snuggly next to it.

“That looks to be more than just a flesh wound, May,” Seth said as he settled down beside him, quickly washing his hands with some of the water they’d collected at the stream earlier before using the rest to wash away the blood and the slight smatterings of the muck they’d rolled in out to see it better.

“It does?” Ezra said around a hiss. “Well, in my defence, I do not have the ability to see the extent of the damage from my position such as you do.”

Seth grunted in agreement, checking the wound over. “The good news is I can see the bullet,” he said. “The bad news is that the hole it made is big enough that I can see straight to the bone as well.”

Ezra nodded. “That does not sound, in any way, ideal.”

Seth looked up to meet his gaze. “We’re still a week out from Deadwood. I don’t have the skills to heal this.”

Ezra nodded slowly. “We’ll remove the bullet, and try to keep it clean as best we can.”

Seth nodded, though he couldn’t stop himself from thinking of everything that could go wrong; that the wound could fester, that the infection would spread, turn gangrenous, that he would lose Ezra and that there would be nothing he could do to stop it, just like there had been nothing he could do for so many others he’d lost. That it would just leave him a little more broken than before, and his heart would harden, and he would feel alone in this God awful world again.

“Hey.”

Ezra’s voice and careful touch drew him out of his spiraling thoughts, and his fingers were squeezed by a familiar, warm hand.

“I can’t lose you, Zee,” he said, his voice breaking in his throat.

“I ain’t leavin’ you,” Ezra said softly, pressing his brow to Seth’s. “We’ll make it back, and the Doc’ll have me fixed up in no time.”

Seth shook his head, all too aware of how these sorts of things could end, but he tried to lean into Ezra’s optimism, wanted to believe in it, and he let his partner pull him in. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Ezra repeated and pressed a kiss to the corner of Seth’s lips. “We’ve got some of that whiskey we were savin’ for when we returned to our homestead. I’m sure Cee wouldn’t mind us using some of it, with reasons as great as these.”

Seth nodded. “I’ll go fetch it.”

For the next hour Seth took meticulous care of Ezra’s wound, washing it out with both whiskey and water and extracting the bullet, offering his own belt for Ezra to bite down on as he did so. It pained him to hurt the man in any way, but they both knew it was necessary else the bullet remain lodged in his arm, and once it had been removed and the wound cleaned one more time, he bound it with strips from his cleanest of shirts.

The task of burying the bodies was a somehow less painful experience for him, probably due to the truly unfortunate number of times he’d had to commit the act in the past, plus the harm they had caused his love made him uncaring towards their fates or the fates of their bodies. The shallow graves they were given would be enough, and all he could afford to give with the sky now dark with night.

The night that followed was restless on both their parts, but they set out with the dawn all the same, saddling up and heading back on the road.

Over the following days, as their distance to Deadwood became ever creepingly shorter, Seth kept a careful eye on Ezra’s wound, washing it out every morning and night and wrapping it in the makeshift bandages he created from the rest of his shirt, but despite all their best efforts, he could see the redness of infection that had taken hold and the early onset of fever in Ezra’s eyes.

And then he fell off his horse.

Ezra’s chatter had been easing off ever since the infection had taken hold, and Seth had felt uncomfortable with allowing the teacher to continue riding without help, but Ezra had insisted that he would do just fine for a while longer yet. Seth still hadn’t been reassured, especially with how pale and sweaty he looked, but Ezra had mounted up before he could do anything about his doubts, and he was stuck following alongside him, sending worried glances his way every five minutes.

At first Ezra’s usual talk about anything and everything was there, filling the air like a constant buzzing, if a bit sparse, but after a few hours on the road he’d fallen silent. Seth had steered his horse closer as Ezra started to flag, but before he could reach out to pull their steeds to a safe stop the man was already slipping from the saddle.

“ Zee! ” he called as Ezra fell to the ground, and he jumped from his own mount to scramble to his side, his knees scuffing up more mud onto his clothes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with how pale Ezra looked and the way his skin burned at the touch. “Zee, Zee talk to me.”

The man groaned, leaning into his hand but not stirring otherwise.

“Zee!” He gave Ezra’s cheek a few taps, opening his eyes but not sure what he was supposed to be looking for before holding his cheeks. “Wake up. You… We’re almost there.” Still nothing. “Stay with me. Just a little longer.”

Ezra’s quiet, his stillness and rasping breaths, reminded him too much of William, of that time sitting with Martha in Doc Cochran’s, keeping vigil as the world reminded him once again that it was cruel and unfair. He clutched at Ezra’s body. He wouldn’t let that happen, not again.

Transferring the supplies they had strapped to the back of his own saddle to that of Ezra’s was the work of mere minutes, but heaving the teacher up in front of him, his body limp and sagging in Seth’s arms, was more of a trial than he’d hoped, but it was one he met with determination and grit.

They truly hadn’t been much of a distance from town when Ezra had fallen, a fact that Seth was grateful for, but it still took almost the rest of the sun’s light to reach with the extra care he had to take with his precious load.

As he rode down the main causeway and approached the Doc’s, the street just as muddied and filled with the local rabble as it always was in the early evening, even as the stalls that had been set up there were beginning to pack away their wares, a familiar face approached.

“Seth!” Sol called, taking the reins of his horse as he threw them down. “What happened?”

“Get Miss May,” he said in lieu of an answer, gently pulling Ezra down into his arms, grunting at the weight of him. “Tell her her father’s at the Doc’s.”

“Right,” Sol replied, leading both horses aside as Seth quickly made his way to the Doc’s door.

“Doc!” he cried, kicking at the door in the hopes that the lit lamp within meant that he was, in fact, present and available. It seemed luck was on his side, as the door opened a crack a few moments later. “Doc, you’ve gotta help him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Cochran said, swinging his door open and ushering him in. “Put him on the table.”

Seth obliged his request, carefully setting Ezra down on the very table where-

“He was shot, six days ago,” he explained as Cochran collected his tools. “Back of the right arm. We tried to keep it clean but… It got infected.”

The Doc nodded. “Roll him over so I can see.”

Again, Seth followed his instructions, holding Ezra on his side while Cochran removed his patient’s shirt sleeve with some scissors and pulled the bandage away, though it was beginning to stick from the puss it was secreeting.

“How long has he been unconscious?” Cochran asked as he started to clean the wound, bringing the lamp closer so he could see better.

“Since just after midday.”

The Doc hummed and pulled a vial out of his bag. “Wave this under his nose; it should wake him up.”

Seth nodded and pulled the stopper out, holding it up to Ezra’s nose and almost jumping when the teacher almost jerked back to consciousness. “Zee?”

“Kettle?” came the reply. “What’s…? What’s goin’ on?”

“You got shot. Do ya remember that?”

Ezra frowned, but he nodded. “We were riding…”

“You fell off your horse. We’re at the Doc’s now. He’ll look after ya.”

Ezra grinned. “Told you he would.”

Seth tried his best to smile back, but with Ezra still pale and Cochran still looking him over, it wobbled and fell after a few moments. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

Suddenly, the Doc pressed against the edges of wound, and Ezra cried out as puss started to ooze from the edges, and then, much to Seth’s horror, Cochran pushed his finger into the hole, Ezra’s hand reaching out to squeeze at Seth’s arm as he tried to muffle himself.

“What in the hell are you doing to him?” Seth demanded, his fingers itching for his gun, anything to stop Ezra’s pain.

“I’m doing my god damn job, that’s what I’m doing,” the Doc said as he removed his finger and met Seth’s heated gaze. “You brought Mr May here to be placed under my care. Are you going to let me take care of him, or are you going to take him and let him die of gangrene?”

Seth gritted his teeth, wanting to retort, but a squeeze from Ezra had him backing down. That, and the door opening suddenly as Cee, Ezra’s daughter, barged in.

“Where is he?”

“‘S that you, Little Bird?” Ezra called, and in a moment she was at Seth’s side, Ezra’s hand slipping from his to her cheek. “Hey there.”

“You said you weren’t gunna get hurt,” she accused, as strong as she always was.

“Complications occurred,” he replied. “There were some folks on the road who were none too pleased that we reacted poorly to them pointing their firearms in our direction.”

She looked to Seth. “Are they dead?”

“And buried,” he replied with a solemn nod.

She nodded in return and turned her gaze on Cochran, who had continued his examination as they’d spoken but was now waiting for their attention. “... Well?”

The Doc sighed as he wiped his hands in a clean cloth. “Your father’s wound is infected,” he said. “Now, in a normal circumstance, I would remove the infected tissue and allow it to heal naturally, but his wound is substantial, and there is also further damage to the bone, so the risk of gangrene setting in even after I had removed the visibly damaged tissue would be high.”

Seth swallowed. “What're you sayin’, Doc?”

“What I’m saying is that, to prevent this from killing Mr May, I would highly recommend amputation.”

A silence fell over them, thick and deep, and filled with disbelief.

“You’re going to take my arm?” Ezra said, his voice shaking.

“I would prefer that to the infection taking your life.”

The teacher swallowed, staring blankly at nothing as he took a deep breath. “Do it.”

“Zee!”

“Dad!”

“No! I’m doing this!” Ezra snapped, pulling them both up short as he gave them sharp looks. “This is a mighty bit of misfortune, one that I never expected to befall me, but I made a promise not to leave you, and I’m gunna keep it.” He looked at both of them, and Seth knew that he’d made the same promise to both of them. “If the choice is my arm or my life, then I’m not gunna hesitate.”

Seth glared at the floor, his hatred for those dead men rising like bile in his throat.

“My arm or your life, Seth,” Ezra said, drawing his eyes back up again, meeting the soft gaze of his love. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“... What can I do to help?”

“You mean, what can we do?” Cee said, looking to Cochran. “I won’t be pushed aside just because I’m a woman.”

“Nor would I expect you to, Miss May,” the Doc said. “You know your way around a surgeon’s tools?”

“I do,” she replied, pressing Ezra’s hand into Seth’s as she rolled her sleeves up. “Shall I set a pot to boil?”

“If you would,” Cochran said. “Sheriff, I’m gunna have to ask you to hold him down. The supply chains have been lax of late and I’m low on my anesthesia, so this will have to be done without.”

Seth nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good. And Mr May?”

“Yes, Doc?” Ezra replied, now even paler than before after hearing of the lack of anesthesia.

“If you think you’re going to pass out, don’t be a fucking hero and try to hold onto consciousness. It’ll be a mercy to us all if you’re out cold when this happens.”

“... Yes, Doc.”

Cochran grunted at his reply, then headed off to sterilise his tools, leaving the both of them in relative privacy.

Ezra gave his fingers a tight squeeze. "You alright there, Kettle?"

Seth choked on a surprised laugh. "Me? You're askin' if I'm the one who's okay?"

"I'd rather that than linger on the much less desired thought of what'll be occurring soon," Ezra replied with a strained grin.

Seth could give him that. "I've done better."

"Yeah. Me too."

They shared a sad look.

"... Those kids are gunna love those books you got 'em," Seth said when he couldn't take listening to the sound of tools dropping into water. "I surely wish I could have had such learning material in my own schooling, limited though it was."

"You're welcome to borrow them," Ezra replied. "Besides, I highly doubt that I'll be able to give any sort of comprehensive lessons for some time after this… after this."

"The kids love you."

"True though that may be, I am a natural with my right hand, it will take some practise to get my left up to standard."

Seth nodded and took Ezra's right hand in his before pressing a kiss to each of his fingers. He could feel the tug of salty tears in his eyes and the gentle touch of Ezra's thumb as he wiped them away, and he tried to savour it, much as he knew Ezra must have been doing the same. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

"Hey, no," Ezra scolded. "If this is the price I have to pay to have kept you alive, then I will gladly pay it." A tug to his chin had Seth meeting his eyes. "I'm not ready to give you up yet."

"I'm not ready to give you up yet either," Seth said, leaning close to press his brow against Ezra's clammy skin, his hat falling forgotten to the floor.

They stayed there like that until the Doc returned, Ezra using his right hand for what would be the last time to sooth Seth's fears with a gently stroking thumb.

"I suggest you get that in you," Cochran said, holding out a bottle of some sort of clear spirit and pressing it into Ezra's hand. "Might not have any anesthesia, but that's the next best thing."

Seth helped Ezra to sit up straight, Cochran watching until the teacher took his first gulp.

"Hoo," Ezra said, his eyes watering as he looked down at the bottle. "That's a potent brew."

"That's the idea," the Doc said, waving for him to continue before he headed back to where Cee was beginning to remove the tools from the boiling pot.

Ezra took another swig, then another, and another, until he'd swallowed a good half of the bottle, passing it off to Seth as the Doc approached again. "Do you believe me to be in a sufficiently inebriated state, Doctor?"

"Normally, with the sort of eloquence you're exhibiting, I would say no," the Doc said as he laid out the tools with Cee's assistant, "but as we are all very much aware that even when you're so deep in your cups that you can't even see straight you still talk like that, and the fact that half the bottle is gone, I'm going to say it's enough." He looked to Seth. "I suggest you divest yourself of the clothes you have no interest in cleaning of blood, or outright disposing of."

With a nod Seth drew back and removed his jacket, tie and vest, hastily rolling up his sleeves as Ezra lay himself down flat on the table, Cee pulling a strap tight around his upper arm a few inches above the wound.

"I'm sorry I've had to pull you back into this bloody business, Little Bird," Ezra said as his daughter tightened the strap further until his arm began to pale, then she tied some string a little lower.

"This ain't your fault," she replied, not quite meeting his eye but holding his shoulder all the same. "I'm gunna help the Doc, and then your Kettle and I'll take care of you while you recover."

Ezra grinned, the sight of it a sure sign that he was surely feeling the effects of that alcohol he had consumed. "You're both so good to me."

"That's 'cause we love you, you idiot," Cee said, stroking some of the hair that had stuck to Ezra's forehead out from his eyes where it had become too overgrown over the last few months, that perpetual patch of blonde curling about her finger before she pulled it away.

Seth gave his fingers a squeeze as he sat himself at Ezra's side again in a sign of solidarity, both prepared and unprepared for the operation and trying to draw some strength from the young woman less than half his age who seemed to be built of sterner stuff than even he was.

"Alright," Cochran said, pulling a small table closer to set the tray down upon it. "Now, there are two different procedures that I could conduct in order to remove the infected limb. The first, and most commonly used in… in the past, is a simple cut and removal. This method is quick, but it does take longer for the amputated area to heal as it leaves the end of the stump exposed. The second is a slightly longer procedure, where I would keep a strip of your skin still attached to your arm to use as a cover that would go over the end of the stump. I will have to note that this procedure is more painful, but it cuts down the recovery time significantly.

“I have experience in conducting both of these procedures, but I would highly recommend the latter. It might mean that you experience more pain during the operation itself, but it will mean that you will be able to get back to those kids of yours faster, and give your body the chance to combat this fever with more efficiency, do you understand?”

“I understand your meaning, Doctor,” Ezra replied as he stared up at the ceiling, his grip on Seth’s hand tight enough to make him start to lose feeling in his fingertips. “I… will go by your judgement.”

Cochran nodded and picked up a scalpel. “Mr Bullock, I suggest you pin him down by his shoulders.”

Seth nodded and amended his position so he was standing over Ezra. “You’ll have t’ let go of my hand, Zee.”

Ezra swallowed and nodded, though it took him a few moments to release Seth from his grasp, only to move his grip onto Seth’s arm instead. “Is this…?”

“You do what you need to,” Seth said, giving him as comforting a smile as he could, even as Cee pushed a leather strap between Ezra’s teeth. “I got you.”

“I’m about to make the first incision,” Cochran said as Cee moved to hold Ezra’s arm down. “I’ll try to get this done as quickly as possible.”

Breathing heavily through his nose, Ezra nodded. Seth didn’t look, but he knew when the first incision was made when Ezra’s fingers dug into his arm.

“Just look at me,” he said, trying to pull his attention as the man twitched and shifted under his hands. “Keep looking at me. Don’t look away.”

Ezra’s eyes flighered from side to side for a moment before stopping on Seth, a pinpoint focus dulled by alcohol and pain.

“That’s it,” Seth said. “Just keep looking at me. I’m not going anywhere.”

As the Doc continued with his work Seth kept talking, about how they were going to be there for him when this was all over, and how much the kids were going to love their new books. When the Doc peeled the flap of skin off and Ezra started to moan, he felt his grip on his arm grow to a bruising level.

Cee swiped up the blood as the Doc retrieved the caitlin knife from his table, and Seth shifted his weight so he was more firmly holding Ezra down.

“You might want to hold his hips down too,” the Doc said.

When Seth met his eyes, he could see just how serious he was being, and he moved to sit atop Ezra. He felt something too warm seeping into the knee of his trousers, and he had to close his eyes for a moment to keep himself from looking.

“I’m about to start cutting through the muscle now,” Cochran said. “Now is about the time where, if you start to feel yourself getting faint, you shouldn’t fight it.”

Seth felt Ezra shift under him as he nodded.

“Alright then,” the Doc said and pressed his hand over Seth’s. “Miss May, I suggest you keep a tight hold of his arm.”

“I know what I’m doing,” she said, voice hard, and once again Seth couldn’t help but admire her strength.

But then the Doc made his first cut, and Ezra’s muffled scream filled the room. His body writed under Seth, trying to buck him off, but Seth pushed him down, even as his legs kicked and scrambled behind him. More of that warmth seeped into his trousers, and a little splattered onto his arm, but he couldn’t focus on that, only on keeping Ezra steady.

Thankfully though, Ezra’s eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out fairly quickly after the first few seconds, his body going limp and the grip he’d held of Seth’s arm vanishing.

“He’s lost consciousness, Doc,” Seth said, though he continued to hold Ezra down, as his body continued to jolt as Cochran worked.

“Thank Christ,” Cochran said. “Keep holding him ‘til I’m done. I don’t want to fuck any of this up.”

Seth gritted his teeth, still not looking directly at the operation that was occurring, but he could see a worrying amount of red on the table beside him, turning Ezra’s green vest almost black as it started to seep in.

The rest of the operation was agonisingly slow, hearing the sounds of the knife as it cut through muscle, nerves and blood vessels alike, and then the feel of the vibrations of the saw in Ezra’s shoulder were almost enough to make Seth vomit, but he held it in. He would not abandon Ezra in his hour of need. When Cee moved away, taking a good chunk of Ezra’s arm with her, he almost lost that battle with himself, and still there was more for the Doc to do.

Thread was carefully tied around each of the arteries, stopping the remaining blood flow entirely (though the strap around Ezra’s arm had cut of almost all of the circulation in the first place), and then he produced the scalpel again to scrape the edges of the bone clean before, at last, pulling the flap of skin he had prepared before over the stump and sewing it in place.

By the time he had reached this last stage, Seth had moved back to the chair that had been provided and was holding Ezra’s hand. He knew it was more for his own comfort than that of the school teacher’s but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Cee knew so much more about the way a body worked and how to deal with situations like this than Seth did, and he felt so useless now that his role was over.

“I’ll cover the stump with some plaster and bandage him up,” the Doc said as he finished his stitching, “but I can safely say that the amputation was a complete success. We can clean him up a bit and relocate him to the bed once we’re done.”

Seth nodded. “Thanks Doc.”

“... You might want to get some fresh clothes for yourself too, Sheriff.”

Seth finally looked up, and then down at himself. Almost the entirety of the left side of his trousers had been soaked through, and his shirt hadn’t escaped either. He was sure his underclothes would be ruined as well, and he almost panicked for a moment that seeing Ezra breathing in front of him had been some vivid imagining, but when he looked again he could see the man’s chest rising and falling. He reached out to touch Ezra’s fevered brow, just to reassure himself, but then a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you head home for a bit?” Cee suggested, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I’ll take care of him while you’re gone.”

“... I don’t think there’s anyone else in town I’d trust more with his care,” Seth said, giving Ezra one more look before pulling himself to his feet. “I won’t take long.”

“You’ll take as long as you need,” Cee said, taking him by the arm with his hat and vest on the other. “Just make sure you get dad some clothes too.”

“Yes ma’am,” Seth replied, allowing her to set the hat on his head as she opened the door for him. “Will you be in need of anything?”

She smiled and patted his cheek. “I’ll sort myself out once you return.”

With that he was out on the streets of Deadwood again, the dark of the night hiding some of the gore that was starting to dry in his clothes, but not much.

“Seth?”

The Sheriff flinched, looking over at where Sol had been leaning against the Doc’s, having clearly been waiting for him.

“Are you okay?”

Seth looked down at himself and shrugged. “It’s not my blood.”

“Yeah, but are you okay?”

Seth wanted to say ‘yes’. He wanted to say he was ‘fine’, that it wasn’t him that Sol should worry about, but ever since Ezra had been shot he’d been feeling fragile, like the smallest touch would shatter him, and he’d held it together for him, for the operation, for his daughter, and he thought that maybe he was. But then now, in the quiet of a Deadwood night, with his friend looking at him with a deep seated worry in his eyes, he felt something inside him snap and the first tear fell.

“I can’t lose him, Sol.”

“Alright,” Sol said, stepping closer to pull his head down to rest on his shoulder, awkwardly holding him as Seth stood there, trying not to cry but only making it worse. “He ain’t gunna die. That man o’ yours is made of strong stuff. Just you wait.”

Seth wanted to reply, but he found his voice had lost its grip and instead he just followed Sol down the road, head ducked enough that his face was hidden by the brim of his hat, until they reached his own porch.

“I’m gunna wait out here for you,” Sol said. “You get what you need and do what you need to do. I’ll be here.”

Seth could only nod his thanks as he stepped inside.

He couldn’t say how long he spent in the house -- getting himself cleaned, removing his bloodied clothes and replacing them with fresh ones, trying not to think about how empty his bed looked as he searched for some clothes for Ezra -- but there were salty tear stains on his pillows when he left. Sol was waiting for him, just as he’d said he would, and he walked with him back to the Doc’s, even going so far as to offer his services in removing the boxes of books and keeping them safe in the meantime. Seth happily took him up on the offer, bidding him a goodnight before heading back to Ezra’s side.

The plaster had already been applied and had long since set by the time he’d arrived, a bandage wound over the top to keep everything protected and secure. Cee was wiping the blood from Ezra’s now bare chest, but when Seth approached and held out his hand, she handed the responsibility over to him without a fuss.

“I’ll go and get myself some fresh clothes,” she said as she left, pressing a kiss to Ezra’s brow and another to Seth’s cheek before heading out the door.

After that, and the slow task of cleaning Ezra up and dressing him in fresh clothes, all any of them could do was sit at his bedside and wait for the fever to break. For the best part of a day Ezra remained in this state of unconsciousness, Cee using a damp cloth to keep his brow cool while Seth sat by his side, even going so far as to read some of one of the books they’d brought for the school to him, but then, in the early morning of the second day, the fever broke and he began to stir.

“Ezra?” Seth said as his breathing pattern started to shift into something more shallow. “Zee? Are you awake?”

Ezra shifted a little on the mattress before opening his eyes, crusted with sleep though they were, and gave him a smile. “Well ain’t that the prettiest sight to wake up to?”

Seth let an embarrassed grin grace his lips for a moment and Cee -- his ever present companion -- snorted, but it, just like every other smile he’d attempted recently, was only fleeting and slipped away before it could be given the chance to stick. “How’re you feelin’?”

“I suspect my answer to that would not be to your liking,” Ezra replied and ran his hand through his hair.

Or he would have, except all that happened was the stump where his arm used to be moved, and Ezra’s expression fell.

“... I had hoped that the experience of… losing my right arm had been an imagining of my fevered mind,” he muttered. “I see now that I was mistaken in that hope.”

“You’re alive,” Cee said, resting her hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “You can learn to use your left hand, and you can still teach the kids just fine without it.”

“But now I won’t be able to hold you both at the same time,” Ezra complained, surprising a laugh out of Seth, which, from the smirk on Ezra’s face, seemed to have been his plan the whole time. “I shall miss the convenience of it, and I know that learning to overcome my reliance on my once dominant hand will be a great difficulty to overcome, but I also know that the two greatest loves of my life will be there to guide my weaker side until it is strong again.”

Seth had to blink a few times to keep his tears from falling. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kettle,” Ezra said. “And you, Little Bird. And I do love that the Doc’s saved me, but I don’t particularly want to take up this bed any longer. Do you think he’d be willing to allow me to go home in the near future?”

Seth grinned and leaned closer to press a kiss to his lover’s lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

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