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Famous Last Words

“I can't fucking believe you! What the fuck is wrong with you?! What were you thinking?!” Billy hissed for what must have been the hundredth time within the past 5 minutes of getting away from the horde of Walkers outside .

- - - -

Rating: M (swearing, blood, violence, character death)

Pairing: Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks (Magnificent Seven)

Notes: TWD!/Apocalypse! setting (pretty much The Walking Dead back in the late 1800′s with The 7) Angst, one-shot

* I’ve never been more scared posting a story but I want to get it out. It’s finally done, albeit a bit hasty of an ending. This was originally inspired by 2NE1′s song “Goodbye”, but how it got here exactly, I’m not sure. But I really do hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Hopefully I’ll come back and fix it up but....for now; voila~ *

Since getting to safety, they had gone through three bandages and reaching for new ones to hold against the gaping wounds. Billy knew there was no point, the bites had began to clot minutes ago. But Goody had already lost so much blood and it looked so bad; it just needed to be covered at least.

“Of all the time to grow balls, you pick now!!” he said through grit teeth and teary eyes.

If it wasn't the damned truth, it may have been funny.

“You k-know me, C-Cher,” Goodnight said with a poor excuse of a wink, his breathing finally evening out a bit from his coughing, “Always h-had a flair for...for the dra-dramatic.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” he spat without any real venom. “Don't even try to be fucking cute!”

Goodnight sighed softly with a small, sad smile. He could faintly hear the gunfire still going strong from the other side of the safe house, formerly the Montgomery family farm.

If this literally wasn't killing him, he would have made a crack about the irony of the situation; he survived the war, survived Rose Creek and the owl, only to run right into a raven and the living dead.

He brought his arm up and let his fingers trail through Billy's tangled and distressed hair.

Neither one of them said anything about the blood that was caking his hands.

“Billy...” he said, “Billy... Cher, please... Look at me. Please?”

Billy met Goody's eyes and felt his heart begin to shatter. Those bright blue eyes that held so much life, so much mischief, so much laughter, so much love were starting to fade.

Whether it was the blood loss or the virus, he didn't know. He didn't care. They were fading. Goody was fading.

“Oh, God...” he choked out. “Please...please,” he begged as he let his head fall again. “I-I don't know what to...what to do, Goody! W-What do...do I do?!”

“H-Hey now,” Goody started, his hand weakly rubbing Billy's arm, “Gwae-Gwaenchanha...” A hoarse chuckle left him when Billy froze. “Finally got it right, huh?” He hummed soft but proud at Billy's resigned nod.

The usual collected and calm assassin leaned forward, resting his forehead against Goodnight's, ignoring the heat of the fever as tears ran streaks down his cheeks. “G-Goody. Please, pl-please... I don't...” He shook his head, his shoulders trembling. “D-Don't... Don't, p-please--” His eyes widened in pure horror as he watched Goody's body lurch forward, hands flying to his mouth in a attempt to cover the violent coughing fit.

More blood joined what was already on the floor.

“Oh, n-no... No, no, no, p-please,” Billy panicked, looking around for something, anything to help. He had never felt more useless.

Goody barely caught his breath as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, heart sinking as he looked back at Billy. And oh, he was sure if this damned infection didn't kill him, the utter fear and pain in Billy's eyes most certainly would.

Never in all the years and all that they have been through has Billy ever looked so wrecked, so distraught, so scared, so lost...

Paying no mind to his own needs, Goody reached out and lovingly thumbed away the man's tears. “Billy...”

Billy placed his hand over Goody's and nestled into his palm, sobs wracking his body.

With a tired but true smile, Goody placed his hand on Billy's shoulder with a small squeeze before pulling him against him.

They sat there for a moment in silence; holding on to each other like vice grips as the dam finally broke.

“I-I love you,” Goody choked out, burying his face in the curve of his neck. “I l-love you. Christ, d-do I love you. You have no i-idea how much...” He pulled away to look back at Billy. To really look at him. To memorize his face; the high contour of his cheekbones, the small dip in his cupid's bow to his strong jawline. Goody reached up and tucked that one piece of hair that never seemed to stay in place, back behind his ear, “The best... T-The best thing I-I've ever done in this life...was p-pickin' up your warrant and goin' after you...” he told him proudly. “You...y-you have made me the...the h-happiest man in the w-world.” Goody thumbed underneath Billy's eye gently, “You go o-on. You go on a-and you beat this wo-world. You don't let anyone take ad-advantage of your kindness, you hear me? Because you a-are so kind, Billy. Kinder th-than anyone I've ever met. You h-hold on and you protect th-that kindness... Because there's so little o-of that nowadays...”

Billy sat and he watched and he listened. He watched the color drain from Goody's face with each passing moment. He listened to the labored breathing picking up with every word that left Goodnight. Taking his hand, he laced their fingers together as he thought about telling Goody to stop talking, to save his breath.

It was pointless because really, when did Goody ever stop talking? Even if it was for his own good. He always filled the silence.

That was when it hit him. He realized that this was the last time he'd ever hear Goodnight's voice. The last time he would hear the voice that was as warm and comforting like the campfires they made on the road. The last time he would hear the voice that could hold the most elegant melodies, that could recite the most beautiful poetry and spin the most ridiculous tales. This was the last time he would hear his name said like it was the most important prayer in the world.

“Billy...”

“Don't...” he said it so soft he wasn't sure Goody even heard him.

Of course, as always, Goody heard him. “Billy...”

“D-Don't go... Don't do th-this...” Billy shook his head as he spoke, his voice cracking. Broken. Begging. Desperate. Questioning. “W-What... What am I...g-going do...?”

Goody simply smiled at him; that same crooked smile that Billy fell in love with all those years back. With a sluggish tug, he pulled Billy back against him.

He let himself collapse into Goody, holding onto his shirt so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“You'll be fine. Y-You will be...be okay,” Goody said softly into Billy's hair, placing a light kiss above his temple. “Y-You're so strong... So b-brave...”

Billy held his breath as he listened to Goody's words slur and trail off. Pulling away slowly, he exhaled and rested his forehead against Goody's. He let himself take in every single detail of the face of the man he loved. Holding his face in his hands as steady as he could, he covered his face in the softest of kisses. “I-I love you, Goody...” he whispered, pressing his lips to the curving ones under his. “I l-love you... I love you so much.”

Goody hummed oh so quietly, his lips twitching up into a smile. He let his head lean against the wall behind them and tightened his hold as best as he could around Billy's waist, his thumb rubbing small circles on his side. “S'a l-lovely...lovely night, ain't it? ” he asked lazily, looking up and through the large window above the dismantled hay loft.

“Y-Yeah...”

And it was beautiful. And Billy hated it.

How dare this perfect painted, starred night sky be Goodnight's last? How dare?!

“Sit...s-sit back with me, cher?”

Billy swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He shifted ever so slightly, turning around in Goody's grasp before resting his head on his shoulder.

Goodnight kissed the top of his head and nuzzled into his hair. “Hey,” his breath hitched as he gave a content sigh,“You got a--”

Before he could finish, Billy was already lighting one of their special rolled cigarettes.

Goody smiled and gave a small nod of thanks while Billy held the cigarette up to his lips. He closed his eyes as he took a long drag.

Billy kept his eyes on Goody; watching as sweat rolled down from his forehead, making clean streaks in the dirt and blood that caked his face. He looked down and saw Goody's fingers skittering and twitching towards his own. Lightly, he placed his hand over his and gave it a small squeeze.

“B-B... Billy,” Goody started, his voice weaker than ever.

Hands shaking, Billy reached over and wiped away the blood that was starting to bubble from his lips.

Slowly, Goody brought his head up and smiled, the cigarette dropping into the pool of blood that never seemed to plan on stopping.

Billy's heart and breathing were too loud to hear the others rushing in, calling for him and Goodnight and the gasps when they were found. “G-Goody...” he said in a hushed, broken whisper.

His tired, dull eyes scanned every one of Billy's features. He ever so slowly brought his hand up and brushed back that stubborn strand of black hair. “M-My... My won-wonderful Billy...” His hand started to slip.

“S-Sam?!” Billy's eyes shot open and he whipped his head towards the other, eyes blown wide in panic as he met the bounty hunter's own, “Sam! Do... Do something! Please!” He looked to each one of the group.

“Mr. Rocks---” Teddy hesitantly began, taking a step forward before Emma held a hand up.

Her eyes were as red as her hair, “---He knows, Teddy.”

No one could bring themselves to move towards the duo.

“Jebal! Jebal!” Billy's fear was wrapped so tightly around him, he didn't even realize his slip back in to his native tongue. “Gaji ma! G-Gaji ma...” Firmly, he grabbed hold of Goody's weakening grasp. “Goody? Goo-”

Sam crouched down, his head in his hands after throwing his hat.

With the little strength he head left, the Cajun lifted his head.

“Oh... Fuckin' Christ,” Faraday muttered with an uneasy, unusual shaky voice as he saw Goodnight's usually bright and sparkling blue eyes now sunken in, a sickly pale blue.

They only saw Billy. “C-Cher,” he wheezed.

“Dios Mio,” Vasquez said sadly, making the sign of the cross, kissing the medallion around his neck while Horne muttered prayers besides him.

Red hissed something in Comanche, his chest trembling with his heavy breaths, emotion strong even from him.

“Thank y-you,” Goody said. “Th-thank you for...f-for bringing out the...t-the very be-best of me...”

Billy buried his face in the crook of Goodnight's neck. His body shook more and more with each breath. “Oh, G-God... Oh, God, oh, God...”

“M-My sw...sweet, sw-sweet, beaut-beautiful B-B...Billy,” Good smiled warmly. His death rattle grew faint. “My... L-Love... My ev-everythi...” Goodnight's voice trailed off and his body began to convulse violently.

“Goody? G-Goody?!” Billy cried out, looking down at the jerking body in his arms. “No, no, no, no! Oh fuck, no! Goody, please! Goody, please don't leave me!! Come on! Come on, please!! Stay with me!!” he begged, his cries getting louder. “Please!! Please!!!”

Goody gave one final exhale, his grip on Billy's hand went slack and fell and his body went limp.

Billy's entire world came crashing down around him. “G...Goody? Goodnight... Sam?” he looked over to their leader who was wiping his eyes, shaking his head.

“I'm... I'm sorry, Billy. I am... I a-am so sorry.”

Billy shook his head and looked back down at Goody lying motionless in his arms; pale, bloody, eyes dull and glazed.

They looked at nothing. They saw nothing.

The screams of every war and battle they had been in could not compare to the heart-wrenching sobs that left the assassin as he pulled Goody's lifeless body to his chest; his wails full of nothing but pure sorrow as he held him, cradling his head as he rocked back and forth. “Oh, no. Oh... Oh, G-God, Goodnight,” he cried, burying his face in those salt and peppered locks. “I love you, I love you... I'm s-so sorry... I'm sorry. I-I love you, I love you...” he repeated, running his finger through his hair tenderly.

The group stayed quiet. They let the sounds of Billy's anguish fill room.

“Sam,” Faraday started quietly, eyes red from his tears. He approached the man in black, head down. “It... It's been almost over an hour...”

“Guero,” Vasquez hissed at the gambler from his place in the corner.

Faraday turned to him, “It... It's not like we have a choice here, Vas. It--” he paused, “--he's going to come back and...and...” He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking back over at Billy who was still holding tightly onto Goody, brushing hair from his face. “I don't... I don't like bein' the one to say it...but...”

“No. Joshua's right,” Sam said, patting the younger man on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to his broken friend. “Billy?” he asked, crouching down by him, “Billy, listen... I know this is hard but---”

Before Sam could blink or even finish that sentence, he had a hairpin at his jugular. The bounty hunter barely flinched.

“You touch him,” he began; his voice low, dangerous and deadly, not even looking at the other man as he spoke, “You'll be dead before you hit the ground.”

“Billy!” someone, Josh, maybe Teddy, called out.

“NO!” Billy screamed, his teeth bared.

Sam's eyes traveled to Goody. He saw his finger twitch and by the reaction from Billy, the man had felt it. He put his hands up and nodded. “Yeah, yeah... I understand,” he stood up and headed to the door, motioning the others to follow him. “When you're...you're ready...” he said, closing the door behind them.

Billy squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Goodnight shift in his arms. He looked down and saw clouded, pale eyes staring back at him. Unable to help himself, he swallowed hard, “Goody...?” he asked.

Goodnight's cold hands reached up and grabbed hold of Billy's shirt. He opened his mouth and a low, breathless groan was all that came out as he pulled Billy to him.

Hands shaking, Billy took his hair pin again. “I'm so sorry, Goody... Forgive me...” He took a deep breath and looked Goody in his eyes. “I-I love you...”

Goody gave a feral growl and gnashed his teeth. His body lurched and sprung up with a sudden burst of speed.

There was a barely a sound except for the sickening crack of a skull being punctured. Goodnight fell forwards on to Billy. He never moved again.

Once freed from the back of Goody's head, Billy let his bloodied hairpin fall to the ground with the softest clang. He wrapped himself around the lifeless form of his love; his breathing shuddering and deep. Pulling Goodnight up onto his lap as he sat up, he held the other close. He buried his face in the crook of Goody's neck and he broke down.

“Oh, Goody...”

-- - -

Gwaenchana: It’s okay.

Jebal: Please

Gaji ma: Don’t go

2NE1′s “Goodbye”

#Goodnight Robicheaux #Billy Rocks #GoodRocks #Goolly #The Magnificent Seven #Mag7

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