An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks
Characters: Goodnight Robicheaux, Billy Rocks
Additional Tags: Modern Era, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mutual Pining, Reunions, First Love
Summary:
It is possible that the man thought it would be less noticeable like that, but there’s a low fire burning at the base of Goodnight’s skull, rusted gears beginning to turn for the first time in decades.
Rated M
Goodnight/Billy, Sam Chisolm POV, friendships-centric
3444 words
co-written with @adirotynd
Post-Rose Creek, Sam gets caught up in an unplanned misadventure to avenge an old wrong done to Billy, contemplates Goodnight and Billy's communication style, is annoyed by their creepy telepathy, and questions his loyalty as a duly sworn warrant officer, more or less in that order.
- - -
You’ve heard of writing a new fic for a fandom that’s been dead for 5 years, but have you tried making your soulmate do it with you *and* forcibly putting her down as a co-author for it?
Robicheaux cuts himself off, laughs quietly. “Do androids dream of electric sheep? No, I can say with definitive authority that we do not.”
“Thought you said you weren’t an android.”
“It’s an old - never mind.”
“So what keeps you from going berserk and massacring everyone around you?”
Robicheaux raises his eyebrows. “My, but you’re a direct one.” When Billy just shrugs, he looks away, mouth still twisted up in the corners. “There’s an owl.”
He stops.
Billy waits for a few blinks, but no, the words do not resolve themselves into sense. “An owl.”
“An owl,” Robicheaux confirms, swinging his artificially brilliant blue eyes back around as if in challenge.
Billy resists the urge to run his hand over his face. Fucking Emma fucking Cullen. Ain’t gonna be easy, she said. But it’s not the hardest job you’ve ever done, she said. Won’t be like the shit the Belties have you doing, she said. You’ll like it, she said.
Should have gone over the contract with a fine-toothed comb. Hallucinating robots might just have been the deal breaker.
Goodnight Robicheaux x Billy Rocks, Canon Typical Violence, Racial Slurs
AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi
Partially Inspired by this
Summary: First meetings are always unexpected.
A/N: This is my first time writing for Goodnight and Billy so please let me know what you think.
Word Count: 2.0 K
Goodnight rode into town just as the sun was going down, tired from the long journey. He had gotten a request from the Northern Pacific Railroad to track down one of their workers who ran off, breaking their contract. He didn’t really like these types of jobs all that much. Most of the time the workers didn’t speak a lick of English and had no idea what they were signing in the first place. Or they did, and the railroad was exploiting just how desperate the men were. Overall, it was a bad swindle, but the railroad paid well, and work kept his busy, which kept his mind occupied from other unpleasantness.
He knew the worker, Billy, if he was remembering right, was somewhere in the area. The man had been on the run for over a week and had to rest sooner rather than later. The only other town was another two days ride, so that gave Billy only one place to go to eat and rest.
Goodnight made his way to the local saloon and inn, planning to wait the man out.
He walked in the bar, rifle in hand, and scouted the area. Nobody fitting Billy’s description, just a bunch of good old’ boys drinking and playing the odd round of poker.
Some heads turned when he entered, but none stays for more than a few seconds. It was the one good thing about getting out of Louisiana, nobody recognized him.
He walked up to the bar, giving the lady behind it an easy smile.
“What can I do you for?” she asked.
“Whiskey, if you please.”
She gave a quick nod and poured out a glass for him.
“Ain’t seen you ‘round here before,” she said conversationally. “Gotta name?”
“Goodnight,” he answered.
She suddenly froze. Her eyes went wide, whipping between his face and the rifle at his side.
He held back a small grimace at his mistake.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything,” he said, in a light whisper for only her to here.
She considered him for a moment, before slipping back into her worker smile.
“Ain’t ever heard of yah,” she said, sliding the glass to him. “On the house.”
He nodded in thanks, and made his way to a small corner next to the door. It gave him a clear view of the room, while ensuring he was facing the back of whomever entered next. Deciding he had time to spare, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t gotten off his horse in two days. He was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
He felt the hours tick by as he went through a couple more shots of whiskey and at least four more cigarettes. He was starting to think maybe he had miscalculated just how far one man could stand not eating. It was possible he completely missed Billy or maybe he stole more food before he went than the railroad had told him. He was considering getting a room and some sleep when the doors swung open once more.
Billy Rocks was much taller than the railroad had led him to believe.
He looked worse for wear, but considering what he’d likely been up to the last week, Goodnight couldn’t blame him. His hair was falling loose from the small pony tail he had tied. His facial had grown out considerably compared to his sketch and his shirt was stained with sweat and dirt. What surprised Goodnight, however, were his eyes. They were tired, yes, but there was a fire in them, something that was keeping him standing and unflinching as all the heads in the bar turned to him.
Goodnight knew he could just arrest him then and there, but curiosity struck him. Besides, Billy was unarmed. He could at the very least allow the man to eat before he took him back to the railroad.
Billy remained unaffected as all talk in the bar quieted to a low whisper.
The men around, all shifted in their seats, some resting their hands on their guns. Others, leaning conspicuously back in their chairs.
Billy, didn’t so much as look at them as he made it to the bar, waving down the young lady behind it.
“Anything to eat,” he asked gruffly.
“Sure,” the lady said. “Need a drink?”
Billy shook his head.
“No drink, just food, and a bed if you can spare one.”
The lady nodded and started towards the kitchen when the manager came out from one of the back rooms.
The manager looked to Billy, his eyes going wide and then back to the lady. It didn’t take him long to put two and two together and his face slipped into a frown.
The lady looked down, as if ashamed as the manager pushed passed her to get to Billy.
“You lost,” the manager said stiffly.
Billy looked up at him.
“Is this where you get food?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m not lost.”
He turned his head away from the manager as a silent end to the discussion.
That seemed to ruffle the manager’s feathers in exactly the wrong way. Goodnight could practically see his hair rise in frustration.
“We don’t serve chinks here,” the manager said bluntly. “Get out.”
From his small corner, Goodnight could only see the side of Billy’s face. It seemed calm and put together, but by the way his fist clenched at his side, Goodnight could only imagine what his eyes were saying. He had to give him credit for restraint.
“I haven’t eaten in three days,” Billy said darkly.
“That’s not my problem.”
The sound of moving chairs echoed through the room. Two men came up to the bar. Both stood behind Billy, one on both sides of his shoulders. Billy didn’t acknowledge them, keeping his eyes straight on the manager.
“Just give me some food and I’ll leave,” he said simply.
“I think you should leave right now,” one of the men said, putting a hand on Billy’s shoulder.
Goodnight shifted in his seat, reaching for his rifle. He was starting to feel sorry for Billy Rocks. If he interfered now, he could probably diffuse the situation to get Billy out of the bar without causing too much damage. His fingers only just brushed metal, when Billy moved.
In a flash, Billy grabbed the man’s hand, ducked under his arm, and, grabbing the back of the man’s head, slammed him face first into the bar.
The man immediately crumpled to the floor, his nose bleeding into the floor boards. The other man sprang into action, wrapping his arms around Billy from behind, locking his arms to his sides.
Billy pushed back, forcing the man’s back against the bar, loosening in grip. Billy slipped out from under twisting around to punch the man right in the stomach and a few more times in the face for good measure, spilling blood down the man’s face and onto his hands.
More men started to join the fight, but by then the fire slowly burning in Billy’s eyes had turned into a damn forest fire.
Goodnight didn’t move a muscle, mesmerized by the violent dance taking place in front of him.
Billy moved like water, smooth and fluid as the men around him stumbled around like boulders.
Goodnight almost felt sorry for them.
Nobody seemed to be able to touch him. He blocked practically every hit his way. He got low sweeping his legs to get the ankles, throwing one man off balance before sweeping up right into their jaw. Someone managed to grab him, but Billy would use their own weight against them to throw them over his shoulder. Another, he twisted their arms so far back they broke.
The manager even got into the fight, hoping out from behind the counter. He barely made it a few feet before Billy twisted around, kicking him straight in the face, sending him right to the floor.
Goodnight wondered, briefly, why none of these boys had sense enough to pull out their guns. But as he continued to watch Billy, he realized Billy had already beaten the sense right out of them.
It was becoming very apparent that Billy Rocks was not a man to arrest, but one to befriend.
Eventually, Billy started to lose steam as was everyone else in the bar. Most of the men were knocked unconscious. Those who were left standing, were propping themselves on chairs and tables.
Billy himself, was breathing heavily, slightly hunched over as blood dripped from his fist.
Goodnight got up from his seat, grabbing his rifle, as Billy landed the last few punches on two of the men still standing.
He cocked the gun rather loudly, making Billy turn on the spot.
His eyes were bright, feral and dangerous. For a moment, Goodnight thought he’d burn on the spot seeing the fire so close.
“That was quite a display,” he said smoothly.
Billy straightened slightly, his eyes shifting between Goodnight’s rifle and the man himself.
“Are you the sheriff?” Billy asked.
Goodnight shook his head.
“No, but I do have a warrant out for you commissioned by the Northern Pacific Railroad.”
Billy’s eyes darkened, his fist clenching at his sides.
“I’m not going back,” he said. “You might as well shoot me now.”
“Now why would I want to do that,” Goodnight said, putting down his rifle. “Seems to me a partnership would be more beneficial.”
Billy stared at him as if he were completely crazy.
Goodnight couldn’t help, but smile inwardly. He had at least gotten a different expression out of him besides exhaustion or anger, that had to count for something.
“What if I don’t want to partner up with you,” Billy said.
Goodnight shrugged.
“Then it’d be a right shame, but I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
Billy eyed him suspiciously.
“So, I’m free to go?”
“I won’t go after yah, if that’s what you’re askin’,” Goodnight said, with a smile. “I like my face just the way it is.”
Billy seemed to consider the option of just leaving as his eyes shifted from Goodnight to the exit, but he didn’t move. He finally settled on Goodnight.
“What sort of partnership,” he asked.
“Perhaps it’s better discussed over dinner,” Goodnight said. He turned his head towards the bar.
“Cher, you still back there?”
Cautiously, the lady at the bar poked her head out, her eyes switching back and forth between him and Billy.
“I think I will order dinner, both for me and my friends here,” he said kindly.
The lady looked to Billy, noticing his bloody hands and her boss knocked unconscious on the floor.
“Sure thing,” she said, her voice quaking slightly with nerves as she stood up. Without so much as a second glance, she made her way to the back kitchen.
Goodnight smiled after her before walking over to one of the turned over tables and putting it back on its feet.
Billy followed grabbing a chair for himself while Goodnight got himself settled.
The Cajun then pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to the other man.
“Might want to wipe that blood off,” he said.
Billy gave a brief nod of thanks before taking it. The cloth was quickly soaked through and it was clear Billy was still bleeding slightly from the knuckles.
Goodnight made a mental note to get himself a new handkerchief.
He then pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and after a few puffs, held it out to the other man.
Billy eyed him carefully as if waiting for him to start making demands.
Goodnight kept holding it out with a reassuring smile and in complete silence.
Eventually, Billy took it with another small nod of thanks. He took a long draft of the smoke and his body almost instantly relaxed in his seat.
Goodnight decided to take what he could get, leaned back, and lit one for himself.
“Who are you?” Billy asked, breathing out a stream of smoke.
“Goodnight’s my name,” he answered easily. “Goodnight Robicheaux.”
“Billy,” he introduced. “Billy Rocks.”
“I knew that already,” Goodnight said. “What’s the name your mama gave yah?”
“What’s yours?”
Goodnight was slightly taken aback, but then he noticed the small smirk on Billy’s face.
He let out a surprised laugh.
“Billy Rocks, I do believe I am going to like you.”
