tumblr fic --You can ask the flowers (I sit for hours)
Author's Note: this is NOT the bunny!rowdy fic that i really want to write, but i was doing research on rabbits and thought it'd be more fun if i incorporated the details into a short fic. be Warned though, it is extremely G-rated preslash fluff, which is why i'm only posting it on tumblr. i mean, there is a kiss of sorts, i guess...
Summary: Rowdy's gone, and Gil copes by getting attached to a wild rabbit. Surely it's just chance that the rabbit reminds him of Rowdy...
Set during 3x07 Incident at Superstition Prairie aka the episode where Wishbone helps a dying Comanche elder sent away by his tribe. Rowdy is absent from the episode and in the beginning, Pete and Wishbone are hunting rabbits. Obviously I connected the necessary dots.
---
Gil blinked awake, bleary, into a fog of disorientation.
For a minute, he stared up at the night sky, unsure of where he was or what was happening. Then he realized that something — or someone — must have woken him up.
On instinct, Gil's head went to the left, searching automatically for a familiar tawny haystack. When he saw nothing but dirt, his mind stuttered in confusion. It came to him in a rush of disappointment.
Rowdy wasn't here.
Sighing, and now irritated with himself for his momentary lapse, Gil pushed to his feet. A dark mood settled over him when he thought about Rowdy's absence. It had been four days without his ramrod, and he wasn't sure how many more he'd have to endure before Rowdy came back. The whole thing left him feeling sour; it wasn't good for the drive to be without Rowdy. A ramrod had too much responsibility to be gone for very long.
The vague excuse Rowdy had given him only added to Gil's consternation. He'd approached Gil a few days ago, mouth twisted in distress, the strings of his hat coiled around his fingers so tightly it turned the skin white.
"It'll just be a little while, Mister Favor," Rowdy had said. He'd looked at Gil all wide-eyed and pleading, the pale green of his gaze even paler under the black fringe of his lashes. Sometimes, Gil wondered if Rowdy knew the effect of those eyes. Maybe he practiced the look in that mirror he kept tucked away.
"You never mentioned havin' family in the area before." If anybody else had tried some line about a sick great-uncle on Gil, he'd have rolled his eyes. Planned on never seeing them again. But this was Rowdy; whatever else his faults, he wouldn't abandon Gil — or, rather, the drive — with a mealymouthed reason.
So Gil had watched Rowdy ride off on the heels of a promise to catch up with the drive in a few days. And if Pete and Wishbone had made comments about him being "ornerier than usual," and if he'd stumbled upon Quince and Joe Scarlet grumbling about him working them to the bone, well. They could all put up with it till Rowdy came back.
Until then, Gil had to deal with matters like this by himself.
Judging by the twinkling points of the Big Dipper, it was about two in the morning. He glanced around the camp, but saw only sleeping drovers. In the distance, the cattle lowed and the nighthawks called out to one another. The usual sounds: nothing that would have disturbed his sleep.
Gil frowned and stood still, focusing his hearing. An odd grinding noise, harsh and jarring, carried on the wind. He followed it until he ended up in front of one of the wagons. The noise was clearer here. Bewildered, and unable to place what the strange grinding could be, he parted the canvas and peered inside.
It was so dark that Gil almost took it to be empty. If not for the sound, he would have assumed nothing was inside and walked away. Movement caught his eye, however, and when his sight adjusted, he spied a small shape huddled at the back.
"Hello there," Gil murmured. He lifted the canvas a bit more, allowing moonlight to steal inside the depths of the wagon. A silvery shaft cut through the dark and illuminated the telltale form of a wild rabbit.
The creature was crouched in the corner, its long ears pinned back against its head. Wide dark eyes fixed on Gil. The grinding grew louder, harsher; with a pang of sympathy, Gil realized it was the sound of the rabbit's teeth gnashing together in fear.
It seemed to him there was a special misery in the distress of a pitiful prey animal. The rabbit's round back rose and fell sharply with quickened breaths. Its feet were tucked underneath its body, as if in preparation to take flight.
"Don't worry," Gil said, gentling his voice into a low, soothing pitch. "I ain't gonna hurt you. You hidin' from Pete and Wish? They were after you earlier, weren't they?"
A grunt, almost like a peevish noise of agreement.
Gil smiled. "It's alright, they're sleepin'. I won't let 'em get at you."
The rabbit gazed at him, its ears slowly perking up as it eased out of its frozen crouch. Its button nose twitched as it sniffed the air.
Was it planning to dart away? Gil stepped to the side, in case the rabbit made to dash past him. Instead, the rabbit stretched forward, its round and unblinking eyes peering up at Gil. With slow, cautious hops, it bounced up to Gil.
"Brave little thing, aren't you?" Gil said, amused. "Unless you're just foolhardy."
The rabbit let out a low growl that rumbled through its soft, furry body. Gil chuckled. He reached out, his hand dropping carefully on top of the rabbit's head, right between its ears.
Instantly, the rabbit froze. Then, almost hesitatingly, it pushed its forehead up into Gil's palm. Its fur was velvet-soft and luxurious under Gil's hand; the warmth from the small body sank into Gil's skin like the heat of the hearth-fire.
"You're a friendly bunny." He rubbed his thumb gently across the rabbit's forehead, kneading until the rabbit began to make noise. It sounded like the tooth-grinding from earlier, but softer this time. Almost like a purr. Gil's smile grew into a grin, despite himself. "You like that?"
Curious, he raised his hand into the air right above the rabbit's head. With an annoyed grunt, the rabbit butt its forehead into Gil's hand, hard. The look it pinned on Gil had an aggrieved air.
"Impatient," Gil noted, raising an eyebrow. And then, foolishly, he missed Rowdy with such a fierce sorrow that it froze the breath in his lungs. It was so sudden and powerful a feeling that it left him unmoored; only when the rabbit continued to bump its forehead insistently into Gil's touch did he snap back to himself.
Gil stroked his thumb across the fur between the rabbit's eyes in apology. "Y'know, I've got a temporary opening on this drive," he said in a murmur. "You think you could fill in as ramrod for a bit? Although I'm afraid you might be overly qualified for the position."
The rabbit drew back sharply. Its fluffy, white-tufted tail flicked from side to side in irritation.
Gil snorted. "Now what're you sore on?" he said chidingly. Still, something in his chest lightened at the display of petulance. He massaged the base of one long ear until the rabbit took up its purring again. It looked up at Gil, its eyes narrowing in a soft squint that he took for contentment.
He spent several more pleasant minutes in petting the creature; it soothed the snarl of gloom tangled up in his breast. Finally, the crack of a snapping twig made him realize how much time had passed. He drew away, glancing over his shoulder. There was no more sound aside from the distant lowing of the beeves and the crackling of the campfire.
"Alright, friend, time to return you to where you belong." Gil slid one hand under the rabbit's downy chest and scooped it up gently. His other hand came up to support it by the bottom. The rabbit stared up at him with very wide eyes as Gil cradled him close to the chest.
Gil made his way to the edge of the clearing, where the brush began. "Hopefully we didn't have all your relations for supper earlier," Gil muttered. The rabbit growled softly; Gil didn't think he'd ever met an animal so… responsive.
He knelt down and carefully lowered the rabbit close to the ground, where it hopped out of his arms. It gazed at Gil, black eyes glinting in the moon.
"Go on," said Gil, nodding towards the low shrubs and bushes. "Unless you'd rather end up as rabbit stew."
The rabbit shook his head, almost a wince. With one last, long look at Gil, it hopped away, vanishing into the darkness with a final flash of his fluffy tail.
Gil watched the moon-dappled sagebrush for a bit longer. The cool night breeze whispered through his hair, bringing with it the green smell of the earth. Now alone, he found himself in the kind of strange sorrow only peace could allow. The prospect of trudging back to his lonely bedroll was a difficult one.
Heaving a sigh, Gil turned to make his way back to camp.
"Oh!"
Gil stopped right before he collided with a shadowy figure. "Wish? That you?" he asked, slightly incredulous.
Wishbone smiled in greeting. It looked more like a grimace. "Uh, didn't see you there. I was just out on a little walk. Couldn't sleep."
"Hm. Well, neither could I," said Gil. He narrowed his eyes. There was something off about Wishbone. He was acting shifty. Avoiding Gil's gaze.
"Figure I should go lie down now, though," Wishbone said hastily. "You oughta turn in yourself, you know! You've been looking sorta peaked lately."
With one last admonishing glower at Gil, Wishbone marched off.
Gil stared after him, then shook his head. He was getting the feeling he should have gone with Rowdy to visit Great-Uncle McFly too.
---
Not long after Wishbone revealed he'd snuck Sankeno into camp, the feeling turned to certainty.
Weary and losing the battle to an encroaching headache, Gil fled to a secluded clearing to steal a moment of silence. He shouldn't be running off, especially with Pete gone to deal with the Comanche tribe; but the odd loneliness from last night still lingered like a heavy stone in his chest. Maybe if he went out far enough, he could leave it behind.
A sudden rustling in the bushes made Gil tense all over, reach for the handle of his pistol — he relaxed when he spied a pair of tall ears and a twitchy muzzle.
"The way Pete and Wish made it sound, I figured they'd hunted you all down to the last cottontail," Gil drawled as the rabbit hopped out into the clearing. "So why can't I seem to get rid of you critters?"
The rabbit bounced to a halt by Gil's feet. Its bright eyes blinked slowly up at Gil; he was beginning to wonder if it was the bunny version of a smile.
"Say, you wouldn't happen to be the same rabbit I met last night, would you?"
Gil knelt down, dry grass crunching under his weight. He scrutinized the rabbit carefully. It wasn't easy to figure out. Even in the moonlight, he hadn't been able to pick out any details aside from long ears, big eyes, and a fluffy tail. But he'd never known a wild rabbit to be so unwary around humans. Either all the rabbits in this area had no head for danger or he'd run into one of the friendliest — and possibly stupidest — ones.
As if in response, the rabbit hopped closer. It stretched up, balancing itself on its hind legs, and pinned a dark steady gaze at Gil. A soft purring noise rumbled from it: the same tooth grinding from last night.
Gil snorted. "Must be goin' crazy in this heat," he muttered. How else to explain that he'd begun to believe this rabbit remembered him? That maybe it came looking for him? He reached out and pet the rabbit's forehead. The purring deepened with contentment.
The rabbit's coloring was different from the cottontails he'd seen in this prairie. More golden-brown than the familiar gray or tan. Something about the color tickled at Gil's memory, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
The rabbit tried to push its head into the petting, but the movement proved too much. It toppled back instead, dropping heavily onto its bottom with a surprised squeak.
Gil couldn't help a burst of laughter. The rabbit whimpered at him, gaze doleful, one ear turning backwards.
"Well now, don't come over upset. You're a pretty sweet thing, ain't ya? My girls would go crazy about you."
The rabbit went rigid. Gil soothed it with a few more strokes down the soft swell of its back. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna steal you away. I got enough beasts to deal with at the moment." Not to mention the remuda and the herd, he added silently with a wry smile.
"Harder now that I'm short my ramrod," Gil said. He spotted a burr tangled in the rabbit's fur; he picked it out carefully and flicked it away.
The rabbit ground its teeth. Gil frowned, because it was the harsh, upset grinding he'd heard the first time, when the rabbit had been unhappy and afraid.
"Easy, b—" Gil broke off with a frown. "Hold on."
He did a quick, clinical check. 'Boy' it was, then. "What's the matter? Don't like to be groomed, boy?"
The rabbit clucked and stretched up again, placing his paws on Gil's leg. He bumped his nose against Gil in a firm nudge. His gaze had gone beseeching.
Strange moods, this rabbit. Gil tugged gently at one of his long ears; the rabbit shivered.
Gil laughed. "Looks like you're ticklish. Don't tell anyone, but you know who else is ticklish behind the ears? My ramrod, Rowdy Yates."
The rabbit made an odd sound. Almost a squawk.
"Oh, I only found out on accident. Was checking him for a head injury. He only jumped about ten feet in the air when I got too close to his ear."
The memory was a fond one, even if Gil had brushed the matter aside at the time. Rowdy's clear embarrassment and reluctance to meet his eyes had deterred Gil from teasing him too hard. Still, Gil hadn't been able to forget Rowdy's shivery blush when he had brushed the sensitive hollow behind his ear.
"Rowdy'd be none too pleased, bein' compared to a rabbit," Gil said, folding his long legs underneath him. "He'd sull up and pout at me. Fuss about not gettin' any respect 'round here."
If Gil didn't know better, he'd swear the rabbit was giving him a baleful look. He quirked a smile. "I thought things would be quieter with him gone. That I'd finally get a chance to fall asleep easy, for once."
The rabbit ducked his head and snorted.
Gil rubbed his mouth and stared up thoughtfully at the cloudless sky. "It ain't quieter, I'll say that. But… it is lonelier, I s'pose."
The words hung heavy in the air. Discomfort roiled in Gil's belly; he wasn't sure if he felt lighter or better, having made the confession. Yet he couldn't deny the raw edge of truth to the sentiment.
When Gil looked back down, his eyes met the rabbit's. They had gone very round and the whiskered nose had stopped twitching.
Gil cleared his throat. "Well. He's a good kid."
Suddenly, a cry came up behind him. Gil turned around to see Teddy appear among the patch of trees. "Hey, boss! Pete's back. And he don't look happy."
Gil rolled his eyes, unsurprised.
"And if Rowdy knows what's good for him, then he'll get back damn quick," Gil said with a growl.
The rabbit squeaked.
---
The return to camp after rescuing Wishbone and Mushy was a triumphant and exhausted one. Some of the men looked like they were crafted more of mud and sweat than flesh and bone as they trudged back.
"Boy, Mister Rowdy sure missed out on an adventure," Mushy said happily as he helped Wishbone pack up. He appeared entirely unaffected from his brush with death. "I can't wait to tell him about the river. And how I got held hostage!"
"Oh, like he'll want to hear about your foolishness," Wishbone snapped, slamming a stack of plates on the table. "After he got a blessed break from it this whole time. Somethin' I ain't been lucky enough to manage yet."
Gil left them to it with a wry shake of his head. There was one last thing he wanted to do before they broke camp. Smiling, he patted the pouch around his neck.
He knew the chances of coming across the wild rabbit were low; frankly, it was stupid to even try. However, Gil couldn't ignore that there was something… different about his rabbit. He was clever, in a way unlike any animal Gil had ever met, and Gil had met some smart beasts in his time. His antics lightened Gil's heart, besides.
Not to mention who he reminds you of, whispered a sly voice in his head. Gil growled under his breath at himself and stomped into the clearing.
A peaceful silence hung there, aside from the rustling of the leaves and grass. Gil sat down at the base of a tree. He winced at the throbbing ache in his muscles, rubbing at his sore shoulder. Sighing, he let his head fall back with a thud against the rough bark. He closed his eyes. It did nothing to abate the dull headache throbbing through his skull.
The rustling grew louder, more discordant. Gil's eyes snapped open just as a tawny blur darted into the clearing. The rabbit hopped joyfully around him, honking in delight.
Gil was grinning before he knew it. "Hello, there. I was waitin' for you."
The rabbit jumped into the air, body twisting in a happy dance. He bounded up to Gil and began to bump his downy head adamantly against Gil's hand.
A fond feeling suffused through Gil like warm honey. "Hold on now, I got somethin' for you."
The rabbit's nose wiggled as he gazed up at him. Gil lifted his pouch out from under his shirt and removed a small envelope. He opened the parcel in his palm and held it out for the rabbit to inspect: a few pieces of red prickly pear, carefully peeled.
The button nose brushed Gil's fingers as the rabbit examined the fruit. He blinked up at Gil.
"Go on," said Gil. "Thought you might like a little treat."
He pinched a bit of prickly pear and brought it to the rabbit's mouth. He'd done his best to pare the spiky skin and remove the spindles. The rabbit nibbled at the soft pulp, muzzle twitching as it chewed.
After the rabbit had finished the fruit, he nipped and licked at Gil's fingers. Gil smoothed a hand over his long ears and forehead.
The rabbit hopped into his lap in one swift move. Gil's eyebrows shot up, the corner of his mouth tugging up in surprised amusement. With a happy purr, the rabbit flopped into a boneless puddle across his thighs.
"Are you this friendly with everyone you come across?" Gil mused. He brushed the rabbit gently, stroking down his spine. "Or am I special?"
His only response was more purring. The rabbit wriggled slightly, his eyes falling into a heavy-lidded doze as Gil continued to pet him.
"It's been a long day," Gil said with a sigh. "Didn't know how it was going to turn out… but we pulled through, in the end."
Gil fell silent, forced into uneasy contemplation about how things could have gone. He wondered if Teddy held some resentment for him, following the slap. The headache returned and he had to close his eyes against the painful sun.
Again, he found himself missing Rowdy. Almost a palpable thing — a sharp jab of emptiness.
Something soft and slightly ticklish brushed his chin. Gil opened his eyes and looked down to see the rabbit peering up at him with wide eyes. The rabbit ducked his head, grinding his teeth, before quickly stretching up to lick Gil's chin.
Gil blinked, surprised. Then he chuckled. He ran a gentle hand down the rabbit's back. "Was that a kiss to make me feel better?" he asked, amused.
The rabbit stared. Then, with a low whine, he hid his face behind his paws. His ears drooped back slightly: the very picture of mortified misery.
"No need to be embarrassed," Gil said with a grin. Distantly, he thought about how if any of the drovers stumbled upon him like this, they'd think he'd gone loco. He rubbed the base of one slouchy ear with his thumb until the rabbit uncovered his face and looked glumly at him.
"Are you poutin'?" Gil shook his head. "Boy, you remind me of Rowdy more and more. Maybe I'll take you along with me when we head out. Introduce the two of you."
A wistful pang shot through Gil. It was an amusing idea: pushing the rabbit into a bewildered Rowdy's arms, watching him awkwardly struggle with the affectionate bunny until he looked beseechingly at Gil for help. Yet Gil knew it wouldn't come to pass. When he left the prairie, it would be the last he saw of his rabbit.
"You'll try not to get gobbled up by a puma after we head out?" Gil asked, carefully thumbing away some grime at the corner of the rabbit's eye. He intended for the question to come out light and ironic, but couldn't help how his tone went flat with suppressed worry.
A growl. The rabbit's ears flipped back and sank down against his skull; the fluffy tail rose stiffly into the air.
Gil snorted. "A tough guy, huh? Yeah, I figured that. You could take on a puma all by your lonesome, I bet."
He soothed the rabbit with some more gentle strokes and caresses. Thought idly that it would've been nice to give the rabbit a name. Something that reflected his nature, perhaps.
But it wouldn't do to get attached.
"I'm gonna be headin' out with the herd soon," Gil said. He kept his voice low and soft, so as not to disturb the rabbit melting into his lap. "We've been stuck in this prairie long enough. Who knows, Rowdy might even be waitin' for us over at the next town."
The rabbit held his eyes for a moment before stretching up to bump his nose against Gil's cheek.
Gil swallowed. Gently, he dislodged the rabbit from his lap. The rabbit went without fuss and stared somberly up at him as Gil got to his feet.
Gil tipped back the brim of his hat so as to better see the rabbit. He felt equal parts absurd and morose, but there was a tug of sorrow when he thought about leaving the rabbit behind.
"You take care of yourself, alright?" Gil said roughly.
He spun on his heel and walked away. There'd be nothing good in looking back one last time.
----
Pete rode up alongside Gil, the mid-morning sun beating down hard upon them.
"Looks like Rowdy caught up to us, despite our best efforts," Pete said with a smirk. "Spotted him about three, four miles behind the herd."
Gil couldn't keep the grin off his face. "About time," he said. "I won't even tell you who I was eyein' to replace him as ramrod."
At noon camp, as the drovers lined up for lunch, Gil headed towards the corral of ropes where the remuda was gathered. When he rounded the supply wagon, he nearly collided with Rowdy.
"Boss!" Rowdy drew up short. Mysteriously, his face turned an abrupt and blotchy pink. "Um, I'm back. I mean, you can see that, I guess… h-how're things with the herd? I miss much?"
Rowdy's eyes darted from side to side, sliding across Gil awkwardly.
"A bit," Gil said slowly. "You handle your side of things okay?"
"Oh, y-yeah," Rowdy stammered. He rubbed his mouth, grimacing. "It went fine. I wouldn't have gone if I didn't have to, boss, promise. I didn't mean to leave you shorthanded."
Gil lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. "We managed. I only had to smack Teddy the one time. I'll need you to go make sure he's not feeling too sore over it."
"Smack Teddy…?" Rowdy's jaw dropped. "You didn't say nothin' about that—"
Rowdy's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. He stared mutely at Gil, eyes large.
Gil frowned. "You sure nothin' happened to you while you were gone, boy? You're actin' like you've been out in the sun too long."
He pressed the back of his hand to Rowdy's neck, knuckles brushing the racing pulse there. Rowdy jumped back with a squeak. Gil's hand hovered between them; he could still feel the heat of Rowdy's skin on his.
"I'm alright!" Rowdy said, reddening even more. "Actually, now that you mention it, I oughta have Wishbone look me over. I'll see you later, boss."
Rowdy marched off at a pace that threatened to tip into a run. Gil stared at his back, perplexed.
Suddenly, Rowdy stopped in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder. The pink in his cheeks hadn't abated hardly any.
Rowdy ducked his head and smiled softly. "It's good to be back, Mister Favor."
---
[BONUS]
(Rowdy gets bonked on the head for the nth time)
Favor: Careful, Wish, he's ticklish behind the ears.
[Exit Favor]
Wishbone: ...Since when are you ticklish behind the ears??
Omg, that was so sweet, I had to read it twice🥺😭Please write more like this; this is exactly what my soul needs right now❤🐇 Btw that’s how I imagine Rowdy as a bunny:
tangentwithtanner
origamiaround
2087
stormborns
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
janainaart
