Calls in the Night
A Crosshair x Tay'kaa Western AU One Shot
Summary: Crosshair, once a feared and respected sheriff, finds himself on the other side of the law after killing a corrupt superior in what he believed to be an act of justice.
Now on the run, Crosshair finds himself tangled up with the West's most infamous outlaw: El Toro de Hierro. The Iron Bull.
A bandito whose real name was 'Tayen del Mar' and who had a tendency to live life on the edge and flirt with Death. He was a dangerous man, not one to be messed with, however, the most dangerous thing about the man was how much Crosshair needed him.
Word Count: 7k
Across the jagged tops of the devil’s backbone, a grinning moon accompanied by thousands of shining stars looked down on the blue sands of the desert that mimicked the ocean waves it so loved. That moon illuminated the barren wasteland with a soft glow that was so very different from the harsh light in the day that beat down on anyone or anything that dared to step into the light.
The animals were out, safe from the intense heat. They had no qualms about slithering, prowling, hopping, hovering, or stalking across the dirt and rocks. Their own little symphony away from Man as night took over and the cool breeze settled in. The crickets cried in melodic chirps while owls hooted from above and hares thumped underground. A soft little tune so very different from the cacophony of chatter and metal, of steam and pick ax, and of gunpowder and dynamite that occupied the day.
The sound of Man went silent at night, especially out in the depths of the desert where Man rarely made it out in one piece and never made it out alive when alone.
But tonight, the song of the night was accompanied with the canter of hooves, first in the distance before they steadily got louder and louder, forcing the animals to quiet down and listen as the hooves pounded against the sand and echoed across the walls of the canyon.
The sound of hooves once were a part of the song of the night, but now they were a part of Man’s melody. Followed by the clinking of spurs, the churning of wheels, and the snap of a whip–they cried a new song. Sure enough, as the horses approached, two men sat perched atop them, guiding them down a road traveled by rabbits and lizards.
One was dressed in a white hat and dark chaps, shining like the stars above, while the other was in a dark hat and poncho, nearly blending in with the dark purple canyon walls. One a disgraced sheriff running from his past, haunted by his image plastered on posters in every town he visited; the other an infamous outlaw, who loved to flirt with Death. Two very different souls, traveling down the same road.
Far off in the distance, a coyote wailed to the sky, making the two men slow their horses down to a stop as they took a moment to look back and listen, breaths held.
The one in white grinned at the sound, while the one in the dark frowned, eyes narrowed in the direction of the howling. They stopped and waited until the night went silent again, the sound far off enough for them not to worry.
“They’re calling you home, Toro,” the man in black, deemed and only known to the other as ‘Crosshair’ drawled, glancing over to the other. He had no name, or at least no name he was willing to give the outlaw, so the other called him as he saw him; a lonely cowboy with sharp brown eyes, heavy with baggage the man didn’t seem to want to surrender, and a tongue and trigger finger that was quick, accurate, and calculated.
"Crosshair." The finest marksman of the West. Once a feared sheriff upholding the law, now on the run when he murdered a corrupt superior who had ties that went further up than what Crosshair had been counting on–resulting on him becoming a Wanted Man for his crimes.
The other in white? Tayen Del Mar - also known as the "Toro de Hierro"–the "Iron Bull"–from both admirers and enemies, for his bullish build and stubborn attitude, paired with his talents with his fists and his irons. An infamous bandito that Crosshair had found himself stuck with for the journey ahead.
Tay knew the other side of the law that Crosshair didn't - he knew how to survive out in the Wild West and had saved his ass a few times since, from bounty hunters coming to collect - so begrudgingly Crosshair let the man tag along.
"An adventure" was what Tay claimed to have wanted out of Crosshair when they first crossed paths. But Crosshair had always been a paranoid individual, so he couldn't be too sure of the man's intentions. Either way, Tay was the first person he had come across that didn't pull an iron on him upon first interaction, the first person who could keep up with him, and the first person who seemed willing to stick around after his older brothers all skipped town and left him behind to rot with his hat and badge.
As the coyote continued to howl in the distance, Tay shook his head, chuckling softly as he turned away from the sound to face Crosshair.
“Don't got no home,” he replied, a smile on his lips despite the far-off look in his eyes. More cries of the coyote pierced the night and the men turned their heads towards the sound, shivering atop their saddles as the sound sounded closer than it was before.
“C’mon…” Crosshair muttered, more so to his horse than to Tay, as he tugged the reins and started off again; hooves trotting against the sand.
Tay didn’t budge right away, his sharp amber eyes narrowed in the direction of the coyote’s howls, a small smile tugging at his chapped lips at the haunting cry before he followed after Crosshair, tugging at the reins as well and turning away from the sound.
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Some ramblings under the cut about this particular one shot!
