Turbinio

Bandages and Sweets

The offer to travel with Johnny and Gyro was tempting, and you were willing to accept. But, to do so, you would have to give up your wagon. You thought about asking Stephen Steel for help, but you figured turning to a public figure who had just discovered his supposed widowhood wouldn't be a good idea. Maybe renting a train car to hide your wagon was a safer idea – blackmailing the Steel Ball Run employees was not difficult, and you had already done it in Arizona when you were not yet known as the healer witch.

But the real question was: why would you accept this offer?

You are not interested in the corpse, and your current situation with Diego makes things more complicated than they already are. When you look around, everything seems to indicate to you to run away from there as fast as possible; forget those men, protect yourself and live your life. Only yours.

And despite all the divine signs and obstacles, you were willing to accept this proposal. You were willing to drop your wagon and leave for New York with those two men. Suddenly, it seemed you were craving desire. Desperate for anxieties, complexes, symptoms, and adventures. But was it worth it?

Drowning in the shallows has been the king of your vexations. Within that race, you were no longer just a foreigner or a hawker. You were (Y/N), the healer witch, the miracle worker, the person sent by God to rescue sick runners, and above all, a satisfactory threat to the government and its minions.

This is what you wanted. Action, recognition, strength. You wanted soul and flesh for yourself. With Gyro and Johnny, you got that. With them, you were the cursing muse, the most dangerous woman to anyone on this journey. And if you ever have to explain all your actions and choices, you will be accountable to a piece of paper, then to God.

''We are about to die once again.'' You said to your reflected image, blurting a greeting in the mirror before leaving the sink.

You were already in the room Gyro had rented for you on the same floor, so you let yourself fall on the bed, covering your face with a damp cloth, trying to ignore the presence of the Italian man in front of the door, looking at you with concern, after hearing you say ''I will continue traveling with you, I will go until the end of this race.''

''What the hell are you talking about?'' He finally inquired.

''Johnny said that I could travel with you, now that he is sure that he can trust me.'' You explained, your voice muffled by the warm towel on your face. ''I'm not going to run and hide like a coward, I'm involved enough in this to finish the race with you.''

''You know you should get out of the race.''

''I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting to New York with or without you; the only thing that's going to change is the chances of me getting out alive.''

Gyro repressed some sentences that you couldn't decipher, and you could hear his deep, patient breathing.

''Just because you're going to be with us doesn't mean you'll be any safer.'' He said after a long, resigned pause.

"I don't care. I also need to find the president.''

Delicately you took the towel off your face and sat down on the bed to see Gyro's reaction since you had your doubts about whether your words would convince the man of anything. You didn't like the speculative look you now saw in those big green eyes. Gyro trusted Johnny's choices of allies, but he knew that while loyalty and trust were admirable virtues and highly valued by those who received them, recklessness was not. And you, (Y/N), were a dynamite of recklessness.

Gyro laughed with a flash of golden teeth and leaned his shoulder on the open door, momentarily surprised.

"No, you don't.''