La Tortura; Part I of II
Pairing: Javier Escuella x You
Warning: Minor cursing.
***Something for my proud Mexican boi, Javier Escuella. Fiercly loyal, acoustic guitar enthusiast and irresistibly handsome. Again very self-explanatory, so I pass on giving a detailed summary. ¡Pásalo bien! ❤***
Oh my love, it hurts so much // Ay amor, me duele tanto
It hurts so much // Me duele tanto
That you left without saying a word // Que te foras sin decir a donde
Oh my love, losing you was torture // Ay amor, fue una tortura perderte
[Shakira ft. Alejandro Sanz – La Tortura]
Javier sat in his favorite spot on Horseshoe Overlook, leaning against the rock near the cliff which overlooked the valley of New Hanover. There was the familiar hubbub behind him as he sharpened his knifes, humming a soft tune to himself.
Grimshaw ushered the girls around, Pearson complained too loud that they needed new supplies soon and there was yet another argument going on between Dutch and his mistress, Molly. Luckily enough, Javier had mastered to block out most these noises already.
Nevertheless, he learnt to never let his guard down completely; the thick scar around his neck reminded him of that whenever he looked at his reflection, so he noticed when someone walked up to him out of the corner of his eye.
Of course it was John, his raspy voice had always been easy to distinguish. Once the man was close enough, Javier looked up at him; still working on his current knife.
Sometimes Javier spoke Spanish just to annoy certain people, mostly the ignorant ones who snapped at him once they heard a foreign language. He loved messing with those, but John was none of them. John knew some words and phrases here and there; something Javier had taught him some time ago. It was no surprise that he knew what Javier had asked.
“I uh – so, Abigail and I argued again and I need a drink now and I thought you’d want to come along? See what’s up in Valentine?” He rubbed his reddened cheek absentmindedly as he waited for an answer and Javier was sure he could see the fresh imprint of a hand on his skin. So it was one of those fights again.
Javier stowed his knifes and gear away before he reached a hand out to him. “Sure, why not?”
John grabbed the other man’s hand and swiftly pulled him up. “Now that’s something I like to hear”, he said with a chuckle. “Sean and Lenny are comin’ as well, I think Arthur is already in town.”
“Of course he is”, Javier muttered under his breath as both men walked over to their mounts while he noticed the furious stare Abigail shot at John, who was completely blind of that of course. “He’s been away more often lately, barely staying at camp for more than a day.”
“I heard he’s playin’ debt-collector for Strauss.” John shrugged his shoulders as he guided Old Boy through the bushes.
Javier pondered for a second before he decided to drop the topic. Arthur Morgan was a good man, loyal to Dutch, just as loyal as Javier was to the gang leader; and if he was out there collecting debts so that the gang earned some cash and could move on? So be it.
The sun had already set fully when the two men arrived the town of Valentine. Of course there was still activity going on in the streets, but the most the most noise came from the Smithfield’s Saloon. It’s lights shone bright as several guests entered and left the establishment steadily.
Javier made sure to tie Boaz to a nearby post across from the saloon. He didn’t want anything to happen to him if something like a brawl broke out and since he knew the place already, this was not at all far-fetched.
The saloon doors creaked as they entered the room, but no one noticed over the sound of the piano playing and the roaring laughter along with busy chattering. The smell of thick cigarette smoke, liquor and sweat filled his nostrils at once, and he could only hope his clothes wouldn’t reek of that later.
It didn’t take long for them to spot Lenny and Sean sitting at the bar, since the latter turned out to be the loudest of them all. “Oy, lookit this! My best fellas comin’ to party! Come on over here and have a drink with us! It’s all on Lenny tonight!”
John left towards the bar after giving Javier (who seemed a little swamped) an encouraging pat on the back.
Javier let his gaze wander through the establishment before he made his way over to his friends. He still didn’t fancy being in places like these; so very crowded and full of strangers. Of course he could handle himself, probably better than most, yet the paranoia caused by his past acted up in those types of situations.
“I’ll take a whisky”, he ordered and watched as the bartender poured a shot.
“Some fine dames are running around here tonight”, Sean announced and took a swing from his bottle of beer while he surveyed a nearby blonde. Lenny nudged him. “I thought you and Karen have a thing going?”
Now John and Javier perked up their ears. If all of them had something in common, it was the fact that they all loved all kind of gossip and rumors. Sometimes rumors were worth more than gold.
Sean seemed visibly jumpy suddenly. “Ah, sure” He took another sip of his beer before he pushed Lenny playfully. “I was talking about you, Lenny-boy! I made it my personal challenge to get you laid tonight!”, he exclaimed and clanked their bottles together in a toast.
“I’m pretty sure Karen would rip you a new one if she ever found out what you just said”, John said and chuckled at Sean’s change of expression from cheery to mortified.
Javier scoffed as they started a debate about what was considered cheating and Javier was sure it would end in a fight between John and Sean which Lenny would eventually have to break up, even if neither MacGuire nor Marston had a right to have an opinion about that matter.
He quickly ordered and downed another drink and decided to go for a smoke behind the saloon.
He stepped outside into the somewhat chilly night air and took a deep breath of fresh air before he fumbled for his pack of half empty cigarettes.
“I said leave me alone, cabrón!”
A nearby voice of distress caught his attention immediately; even more so as he realized it belonged to a woman.
“Cabrón – that means darling, right?”, a deep male voice asked, but his words sounded slurred. It only fueled the anger rising in Javier as he snuck towards the pair.
“No, it means “leave me the fuck alone or I will stab your fat gut”, cabrón”, you spat angrily and if a different situation had been given, Javier would have laughed aloud. Now he peeked around the corner into the alley next to the saloon as some stacked beer barrels provided him with cover.
“Now that ain’t very nice of you, sweetheart”, the man responded furiously and reached out to seize your upper arm.
It was the moment Javier decided to intervene and rescue you from something sinister, albeit you were faster and Javier watched as you dodged his hand swiftly and pulled a blade out of nowhere while simultaneously grabbing a handful of his cojones.
Javier flinched himself as he watched the bear of a man suddenly squirm in pain as you squeezed hard.
“Lo juro por Dios, I will cut it off if you dare to touch me again”, you hissed through clenched teeth, pressing the blade to his neck as he slowly got on his knees before you.
Javier could hear your thick Mexican accent now that you spoke louder once you had gained your confidence back and his heart nearly skipped a beat at the sight before him. He didn’t know or understand why, but he was proud of you; of the way a woman from his homeland handled herself in a country where they were hardly welcomed.
“I won’t, sweetheart, I – ah!”
You pressed the blade harder into his skin. “Call me sweetheart again and I will end your life.”
“I think he learned his lesson”, Javier said as he sauntered up to you, and you withdrew your blade quickly as he clearly caught you off guard and the stranger used the chance to scurry away on all fours.
You kicked after him, visibly angry. “That’s what I thought, better run you pig!”
As Javier got closer, you spun around to him; drawing the blade up again.
“Whoa, there –“ He raised his hands defensively, showing you that he meant no harm and he decided to switch to Spanish just for the heck of it. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
As soon as you heard him speak in your native tongue, you visibly relaxed but held him at knifepoint anyway.
“I’ve heard that before. I won’t take a risk with anyone anymore, especially no stranger.”
There was something about your voice, now that he could hear it clear without all the anger from before and it made his heart skip a beat once more.
“My name is Javier –“
You froze and tilted your head; your eyes squinting as you tried to see him better in the pale given moonshine.
“I knew someone with that name, but that was a long time ago”, you muttered under your breath, barely loud enough for him to hear. There was just no way –
You hadn’t seen in him in so long and all these years you were sure you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. Your mind was racing as your eyes took in his silhouette, his face; so familiar yet so very different from the last time you had seen him.
His hands began to tremble as the delicate features of your face became clearer; the final realization hit him when he spotted the thin horizontal scar on your right cheek.
“Mi amor…”, he breathed as he gripped his chest where his heart felt as if would break all over again at any moment.
Your blade fell to the ground with a soft thud as you clasped both of your hands over your mouth, though you did not scream.
Without further thinking, Javier rushed forward and wrapped his arms around you tightly while you stayed frozen in place. He stroked your hair frantically as he felt the need to touch you so bad, fearing you would turn out to be just another imagination if he let you go again.
→ P A R T II
146 notes · View notes