[November 7th] [The Wild Wild West/Cannon-related] Out of Time and Place

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Out of Time and Place
Day/Theme: November 7th - Spattered across the pages of history
Series: The Wild Wild West/Cannon-related
Character/Pairing: Jim West, Artemus Gordon, Coley Rodman, Ray Norman
Rating: T/PG-13

Random hurt/comfort, angst, and the possible weird tinkerings into a future project. And Coley is the fellow in the icon.


By Lucky_Ladybug

Ray was in tears by the time Jim and Arte made their way down to the floor, far below the balcony where they had been standing. The blood pooling underneath the lifeless body was nothing short of a nightmare. Ignoring it, Ray lifted the form into his arms, shaking as he cradled his dead friend.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this!” he cried in despair. “It was never supposed to be like this. He died to save you. And me, too. Dear Lord, I . . .” He trembled, supporting the limp neck. “Coley? Coley, wake up. Please.”

Arte bowed his head. “I never thought there’d be a day when I would mourn for Coley Rodman,” he said quietly to Jim.

Jim nodded, looking down as well. “Or when he would deserve it.”

“He saved my life during that case where I thought you were dead,” Arte said.

“And he only came back to the past to save Norman,” Jim remarked. “He knew he was likely to die.”

“He was shot down by a common, cheap bounty hunter,” Arte said in repulsion. “He told me he would never hire out as a killer. So, in true ironic fashion, he’s murdered by one.”

Jim clenched a fist. He had shot the bounty hunter in turn as the attention had turned to him. But the damage to Coley had already been done.

Ray slowly got to his feet, Coley’s body hanging in his arms. “I’m taking him back with me,” he vowed. “He’ll be buried in a modern cemetery. He doesn’t belong to your time any longer. He hasn’t ever since he first came to me.” He looked to Jim and Arte in despair. “He wanted to live out his life in the modern day, where he wasn’t a wanted man.”

“He belongs to both our times, I think,” Arte said quietly. “He was born in this time and died in this time. But he lived in both ours and yours.”

“We’ll walk you back to the portal,” Jim offered. It was all they could do.

Ray could only numbly nod. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

The walk was long and agonizing and painful. Ray looked more blank and alone the farther they went. Jim and Arte could only exchange a helpless look. Nothing they could say or do would help.

As they passed through the portal, a strange breeze swept across the lot of them. Bewildered, they exchanged looks. That had never happened during travel through this portal before.

Ray stared at the desert just outside Los Angeles in despondence. “It looks just the same as on the other side,” he remarked. “But it’s different.” He shook his head. “And both sides feel empty now.” He looked at the slacken body. “He’s gone. He’s the only person I’ve really cared about in years. Now there’s no one again.”

But then he stopped and stared. “Wait . . .” He looked to Jim and Arte in disbelief. “There’s no blood now!”

“That’s impossible!” Arte exclaimed. “. . . And yet it’s true.” He gaped.

Jim narrowed his eyes. “I saw something like that happen before,” he said.

He had no chance to explain before Coley suddenly coughed and choked, his eyes wildly flying open. Ray almost dropped him out of utter and complete shock. “Coley?!” he burst out. This could not be real. He had been dead. They could all attest to it.

Coley seemed just as bewildered. “What the . . .” Blearily, he looked up at Ray. “Norman, why are you carrying me? . . . No, wait . . . how am I still alive? I was shot. And I fell off that balcony. There’s no way I’d come through that fall, even if the bullet didn’t kill me.”

Ray shook his head. “Nothing is making sense anymore,” he rasped, overcome. “You were dead. But now you . . . you are alive. And there’s no blood. It’s . . . it’s like you never were shot!”

Jim stepped forward. “Arte died once, in the past,” he volunteered. Arte shivered at the reminder. “But when we came back to the present, he was alive like nothing had happened. Maybe . . .” He nodded to Coley. “Maybe this means Mr. Norman is right. Maybe you don’t belong in that time any more. Maybe your only true time is here.”

Coley slid out of Ray’s arms to land on his feet on the ground. “That wouldn’t make much sense,” he grunted. “But as long as I don’t drop dead, I don’t care much about the scientific principle of the thing.”

“I’d care at least as much so as to not tempt fate,” Arte put in. “This may have been only a one-time deal. In other words, if it happens again, it might be a regular, permanent death.”

Coley glanced to him. “Don’t worry, Gordon,” he retorted. “I’m not going back over there unless I have to. I’m staying here.”

Jim nodded. “I’d definitely recommend it.”

“But maybe we’ll stop in and visit sometimes,” Arte said. He looked to Coley. “Rodman, in all sincerity, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“I never thought I’d hear that from you,” Coley remarked. “At least, not in the way you’re meaning it.”

“Trust me, I never thought I’d be saying it in this way,” Arte returned with a smile. “But you saved all of us back there, whether you meant to or not.” He started to turn and walk away. “Stay safe. Both of you.”

Jim nodded and followed. “Goodbye.” He allowed himself to smile a bit.

Behind them, Ray laid his hands on Coley’s shoulders. “Coley . . .” But he trailed off. He did not know how to put into words everything he was thinking—how Coley had given him a renewed purpose in life after Portman had shattered him, or how there had been no one for years who would put himself on the line as Coley had done for him, or how devastated he had been when he had thought he had lost his treasured friend.

But on the other hand, maybe he didn’t have to say any of it. Coley finally rested a hand on Ray’s shoulder, albeit briefly.

“Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s go back home.”

That sounded wonderful to Ray. “Yes,” he agreed. “Home.”