Make My World Go Black

Chapter Eighteen

(Warning: The following chapter has much-needed smut since we're now eighteen chapters in and still have at least one more big adventure to pull through. Be advised, it is only tamed smut since I didn't want the explicit details to drive you away from the actual story XD. This chapter is also dedicated to the very song my story is named after... Black by Dierks Bentley. Feel free to listen to it as the smut begins! Enjoy!)

Rose Creek was a victory for a lot of people. Well, most of the people. Not really for Faraday.

Sure, he got the girl, won over her heart and the rest of the townsfolk, his only friends are safe and he still has his horse. Life couldn't be getting any better for him. But something was different in him. Something's changed. He feels like he's lost something in the fire, and he feels as though after weeks of recovering from his wounds, he would not be able to find whatever he lost in the ashes.

He didn't know what that something was until he and the rest of the gang were miles away from La Belle, roughly three weeks after Vasquez's incident. Most of Vasquez's cuts and bruises have vanished, for the most part, leaving the arm as the last wound that still needed to finish up healing. He was able to ride and shoot with his other hand, if necessary, but that was about it. The others had no problem helping him light his smokes and bring him food and drink, and he only accepted the help with a few growls. Their group all just settled down for the night in a tavern, as this town appears to have some work Sam was desperate for and so the others had decided to stay. Horne said it was probably for the better since he sensed a storm coming. Red even agreed it was probably best to stay somewhere with a roof over their heads. Faraday didn't think anything of it, remembering the last storm and figured that this time will be different. He would be under a roof instead of a tent and there would be lamps and especially Matilda. He would be fine. He was sure of it.

That night, Matilda woke up when it was still dark out and there was loud thunder rolling outside. Behind her, she felt someone tossing and turning, restless. Flipping over, Tilda felt around blindly in the dark to reach Faraday, and he startles a little when she catches his arm. He had been covering his ears with his hands, desperate to block out the sounds of explosions and gunfire. He grunts when she settled her body against his back, her arm wrapped around him and tight against his chest.

The next morning, he doesn't talk about what happened the night before. In fact, he doesn't talk at all. He doesn't make it far before sitting up at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, unresponsive. Matilda worried, trying to figure out what was wrong and what she could do to help, but when he didn't respond to anything, she gave up for the moment and went downstairs, unsettled.

Heading downstairs, Matilda found Goodnight at the bar, smoking a cigar and enjoying a drink. Trying to lift up her own spirits, she couldn't help but try to tease, "A little early for a drink, ain't it, Goody?"

"Miss Crawford, good morning to you," the Cajun tipped his hat and smiled, "And I'm afraid that the drink is for the nerves. God's medicine you see."

"Horne would be proud," she grinned.

"Don't tell him I said that," the two of them laughed all the while he looked over her shoulder, "And where's your gentleman this morning, if you can even call him that?"

"Um... he's still in his room," she decided to say, suddenly remembering why she was worried earlier and ducked her head, deciding that she needed a drink as well and put a word in with the bartender.

Goodnight must have noticed her unease and observed what might be the problem, nonchalantly shrugging, "Awful storm last night, wouldn't you say?"

She eyes him from the side, seeing the knowing look on his face and sighing. It's hopeless to keep anything from Goodnight, especially with a situation like this. Tilda knew that if anyone could relate and possibly help, it would be him.