Charles Smith x Reader

Twenty-Eight

Sweat dripped off Charles' face as he crossed the edge of the forest once more and the golden shimmer of your home appeared between the branches of black and shadows. His breath was heavy and he barely managed to slide off the rose before his legs gave in.

With his teeth clenched, he grabbed his chest, one hand still holding onto the horse. He could feel how his limbs started to shake.

For a brief moment the world spun before his eyes. Air burned in his lungs and trails of salt ran down his cheeks.

"Charles...", a dull voice cut through the blur that clouded his eyes. "Charles."

He took such a deep breath that something at his side pulled together. Pain drowned his senses. Then there was this feeling of warm liquid that ran down his body.

"Charles.", worried, you kneeled down to grab his face with both your hands. "You need to breathe. Calm down."

Your eyes wandered along his trembling body. A thick stain of deep dark red seeped through the fabric of his shirt and dripped onto the hay that lay below his knees. He was sweating all over and as you pulled him close to offer a hint of stability he almost collapsed.

His hand let go of the horse, which pulled its head away and walked off into the dark. You let it be since it always returned after a while and as of now it wasn't anything for you to prioritise.

Your attention returned to Charles. It was upsetting to see a man his size be so helpless and weak in a moment so full of suffering. You felt like he deserved so much better.

With a soft breath on your lips you wrapped your arms around him a little tighter and let your lips rest on top of his hair.

"Charles. Can you hear me?", you waited for him to respond but he just wasn't able to, his tongue refused to form words and his limbs trembled. "Charles... listen, I know you can't do anything right now. I will lay you down, okay? And I'll stay by your side. So that you don't choke. I'm sorry, but that's all I can do."

A low, pressed sound made its way up his throat. His eyes flickered, all the tension in his body pushed down on you.

Slowly, you allowed him to let himself fall down on you with all his weight. You caught it, wrapped your arms around him and made sure that the would lay down slowly. His head rested on your shoulder as you pulled him halfway onto you and placed a hand on his cheek to caress it gently.

The beating of his heart hammered against your ribs. At least he was still alive and fighting. It was a relief, although not as nice as his previous condition. He had been so much better.

Or perhaps he was just good at pretending.

"I shouldn't have let you go.", you muttered. "How did I not see that you're still struggling?"

Beads of his sweat seeped into your clothes. It smelled of salt and iron. Blood stained your own shirt. One of his wounds must have torn open again. It would have been better to treat it immediately but at the moment he just wasn't in the condition to move anything but his lungs for much needed air.

"It's... it's alright...", he chuckled, but it was breathless and short before he fell back into a state of suffering.

"I should have handled this better."

"I'm glad... I could help..."

"Don't talk. Rest now. You need the strength."

His face flinched. Fingers moved and all of a sudden his cold fingers wiped away a strand of hair that dangled across your forehead.

Surprised by the gesture, you blinked.

"Sorry... I-!", he sucked in a sharp breath. "I didn't want to..."

"No. Don't apologise, I don't dislike it.", you grabbed his hand to wrap your fingers around, although it was a little large. "You risked your life. I'm just glad you made it back."

For a moment you just stared at the stacked hay, listened to the rattling of his breaths. He was covered in dried sweat but at least he was warm. With his eyes closed he rested by your side, his head on your chest. He was calm but you could tell that it was only a matter of time before he would fall back into a critical state.

You needed to fix his wound. Fast.

But at the same time you didn't want to leave him again. Not in a moment like this. He was so vulnerable, almost like a man who had never been in a place save enough to allow himself to have a good rest. He had struggled so many times and now he was at his wits end.

And he allowed you to be his safe place. He wanted to be caught by you. Otherwise he just could have ridden off with your horse, back to wherever he had come from. Back to his gang.

But he didn't. He had returned to you.

"Charles...", his name from your lips trembled.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let your head rest on his while you held his hand tight. He needed a moment of calm and you wouldn't deny him that.

"(Y/N)...", he almost couldn't talk, that's how exhausted he was from this short ride.

"I'm here.", you let your nails run through his long but thick hair of shimmering black strands. "I won't leave. Don't worry. Rest."

He shook his head, weak and almost unconscious.

"Aponi... gave me a gift... for you...", he tried to reach into his pocket but failed. "She... asked if... we wanted to follow... the tribe..."

You frowned.

"Follow? Where?"

"After the... bison... wherever... they go..."

Something in you stirred. You wished it would have been that easy. But as someone who knew Aponi and respected her tribes caution in regards of the settler you knew that there was something that he did not mention.

"Become part of the tribe?", you asked.

"No...", he shook his head gently. "But... travel with them... alongside. Like..."

"Guests."

"Yes..."

Your eyes wandered down to him.

"Would you want that?", your fingers played with a strand of his hair.

"Hm...", he smiled softly. "I would... want to be free... but not... like this... a friend... of my own... people..."

Something inside your chest pulled together. You didn't even have anything to call yours besides this ranch. So you envied him for the certainty that he had something he could define himself through.