[ But he also doesn't regularly use that particular skill when at the point of Gilbert and Anton. Once discovered, he was far likelier to just outright kill a loose end that bother applying more force to his "suggestions." ]
I don't usually use it like that – having to push that much.
[ He dismounts Jack with far less care than he's due, and his bad leg buckles a little, forcing him to catch himself on the pommel of his saddle. He curses under his breath, jaw clenched as he shifts his weight to his good leg. ]
So? What did you do? [ And the words are sharp, brusque. ] 'Cause they looked like it was hurtin' them.
[ Vasquez pauses with his reins gathered in his hand, watching Faraday wobble – though he stops himself from reaching out and steady the other man. ]
I don't know. It's just— [ He cuts himself short as he tries to search for the right explanation, huffing out a sharp sigh. ] It's just a part of it. If they don't want to listen, it causes more pain until they do.
[ He echoes the words like he's spitting them out.
Maybe he's angrier about this than he should be, but hearing Vasquez use that voice had stirred something in his head. It had felt faintly familiar, though he had no memory of Vasquez speaking with that voice ever before.
But maybe he wouldn't.
Vasquez did say he routinely made people forget. ]
[ Vasquez looks more genuinely confused by the accusation, and he stops just to stare at Faraday. He’s never used that voice on Faraday, because he’s never had a reason to – and he has no real confidence that it would be effective, if Vasquez actually did try. ]
What the hell are you talking about? I never used it on you.
[ Vasquez isn’t actively trying to deny the fact that he’d attempted to use his voice on the wolf; he just genuinely believes Faraday and the wolf to be two separate beings. By that understanding, Vasquez doesn’t consider that he’d ever tried to coerce Faraday into obedience. ]
[ He keeps one hand on the pommel, but he turns to face Vasquez, making no move to disguise the way he stares at him, studies him, trying to spot any tics or tells. ]
When you talked like that, it kicked something up. Like I remembered it from before. Remembered how it felt.
[ Though that's not the right way to describe it; it was more like trying to remember a dream – not recalling the images, but recalling the impression it left behind. ]
He never remembers what happens on full moons, no matter how hard he tries. It's possible, he supposes, that those nights would still leave a shadow in his mind, however faint it might be, but—
He clenches his jaw, still doubtful. ]
And that's the only time?
[ Skepticism and anger in his voice to mask the confusion and the hurt.
... stupid, he admits, to feel hurt by the possibility of Vasquez betraying his trust and not righteously furious, but there it is – nagging at him like a sore, open wound rather than a white-hot flame. ]
[ Vasquez's confusion gives way to incredulity. They've known each other for solid months now, and maybe the two of them are made of little more than sharp edges and stubbornness, but Vasquez expected Faraday would trust him more than that.
(He's not sure why he expects that, given his centuries of experience. He's much less human than Faraday, much farther from "natural," despite the wolf's curse.
Vasquez is a walking nightmare, wearing the mask of a man.
[ He stops up short again, turning toward Jack to start removing his tack. He doesn't have a good answer to that question – not immediately, anyway.
Because the answer he does have is foolish. Selfish. All of this – it's worked out too well. The two of them finding this strange friendship, riding out together, working their way into an odd balance, finding company after he's spent all these years looking out for himself – this shouldn't have come out of accepting a goddamn suicide mission.
It's too goddamn good to be true. It would only logically follow, given Faraday's shit luck anywhere but at card tables, that something had to be wrong. ]
[ And he snaps it back, yanking roughly at the straps holding Jack's bridle in place. The horse snorts at him in warning, and Faraday clicks his tongue, forces himself to take a breath to calm down.
Not for his own benefit, and maybe not for Vasquez's, either – but so he doesn't yank at Jack's tack wrong and encourage the horse to knock Faraday on his ass. ]
I already got blank spots in my head from the wolf.
[ And while he's marginally calmer, if only so he can untack Jack properly, he still spits the word out bitterly. ]
It'd be easy takin' advantage of that. I already spend one night out of the month completely out of my own goddamn mind. What's another one or two more, right?
[ It's a flat statement, like that's answer enough, and it is, to Vasquez. It's clear to him why Faraday is asking, and it shouldn't feel like such a surprise, like such a kick in the teeth.
At the end of the day, what is he? The same thing he's been for centuries, the same monster whose stories were passed down through generations.
It's a perfectly reasonable assumption of an untrustworthy creature.
He doesn't know why he'd convinced himself Faraday thought differently.
Vasquez finally turns back to his horse, starting to unbuckle its bridle.
[ There's not much to read off of that – which is telling, considering Vasquez, like him, tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve, was as free with his jokes as he was with his barbs.
Faraday may still be bristling, but he has the sudden realization that he may have fucked up.
He believes him, is the thing. And maybe that's naive, to simply take Vasquez at his word, especially considering what Faraday witnessed today, but Vasquez doesn't have much reason to lie to him, he thinks.
Faraday's hands still on the buckles for a few breaths before he continues his work, pulling the bridle off of Jack's head and replacing it with the halter from his saddlebag. He hitches him to a nearby tree before working at loosening the saddle. He's quite for a long while as he moves around Jack.
Then, ]
Guessing it didn't work all that well when you did it to the wolf.
[ If it had, Faraday doubts the two of them would keep waking up mauled all to hell. ]
[ Vasquez lets them lapse into stony silence without turning any attention towards Faraday as he deals with his horse. His feelings are a thunderous storm in his chest, fighting each other for prominence. It all prickles out over his skin, something heated and angry, indignant – even if he doesn't see the real reason why.
He hitches his own horse to the same tree, barely looking at Faraday as he undoes his saddlebag.
Short, curt, ]
No. It didn't.
[ If he's honest, it seemed to have some effect, but compared to how it usually works on mortals? It was nothing. ]
[ Well, that's something of a relief, he supposes. They won't know unless Vasquez tries whether or not it'll work on Faraday, but if it doesn't work on the wolf, then there's a fair chance it won't work on him, either.
Then again, the wolf can withstand a dozen bullets to the gut. Faraday doubts he'd come out of an exchange like that nearly as well.
With the saddle dropped to the ground, Faraday throws his bags over his shoulder as he pulls off the blanket. He runs a hand along Jack's neck – mostly as an excuse to keep from looking at Vasquez. ]
If it matters, I believe you.
[ Just as brusquely. Reflexively, he glances upward. With the light warming as it is, he knows sunset is around the corner. There's still time, though – time enough to settle in, to build a fire.
It also means that unless they want to spend the last of the daylight pointedly avoiding and ignoring each other, they have time to talk.
Faraday hasn't ruled out the stony silence just yet, though, but he figures he'll at least attempt passing the baton to Vasquez. ]
[ Vasquez is already in the middle of getting his things set on the ground when Faraday speaks, and he glances the other man's way with a flicker of an unconvinced frown. ]
[ Faraday snorts derisively and tosses the blanket to the ground with a little more force than necessary. ]
I just watched two murderous sons of bitches almost shit themselves with terror 'cause they couldn't control themselves. And you're the one that told me you use that shit to make people forget.
And then I get this weird sensation that it's familiar, like I know exactly what those two bastards are feelin'.
Put yourself in my position, huh? You're tellin' me you wouldn't start askin' questions?
[ The rationale feels— fair, as much as Vasquez is still fuming. ]
Why would I assume first that the man saving my life has been taking advantage of me and making me forget? Unless I thought only that man was a monster and nothing else.
[ Which... Vasquez is. He has been for centuries, and he hasn't cared to be anything else since his heart was first ripped from his chest.
He'd just become so comfortable being treated as something more since Rose Creek. It stings thinking that Faraday might never have stopped looking at him that way. ]
[ He snaps it back, and when he drops his saddlebags next to his saddle, it's with far more force than they're owed.
Although he hesitates for a split-second, probably realizing that— maybe he did imply that. Maybe he was too quick to assume the worst, but it's just how his mind works; it's what's helped him stay alive this long.
He clenches his jaw, taking a breath. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to just keep fighting, keep escalating, because that's how this was always going to end, right? One big fiery explosion. This was never going to last.
Maybe it's for the best that this blows up sooner, rather than later. Later, and it might've hurt a lot more. ]
When people got tricks, they use 'em. Either 'cause they need to, or 'cause they want to.
How was I gonna know what you were usin' it for unless I asked? Hell, for I knew, you could've just been doin' it to shut me up when I got too mouthy on the road.
[ And maybe that's what's really grating at him. He scrubs at his face, frustrated. ]
Three months I've known you, and I still barely got any idea what you're capable of, while you know every single way you could do me or the wolf in, if you had a mind for it.
You aren't like any vampire I've heard about. You can walk in broad daylight without havin' to hide yourself. You can take a million bullets, sanctified or otherwise, and walk away. You can go all—
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Then, ]
That was what you call a goddamn suggestion?
[ Because Gilbert and Anton didn't look like they could help themselves, looked nearly out of their minds with terror. ]
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[ But he also doesn't regularly use that particular skill when at the point of Gilbert and Anton. Once discovered, he was far likelier to just outright kill a loose end that bother applying more force to his "suggestions." ]
I don't usually use it like that – having to push that much.
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[ He dismounts Jack with far less care than he's due, and his bad leg buckles a little, forcing him to catch himself on the pommel of his saddle. He curses under his breath, jaw clenched as he shifts his weight to his good leg. ]
So? What did you do? [ And the words are sharp, brusque. ] 'Cause they looked like it was hurtin' them.
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I don't know. It's just— [ He cuts himself short as he tries to search for the right explanation, huffing out a sharp sigh. ] It's just a part of it. If they don't want to listen, it causes more pain until they do.
So what?
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[ He echoes the words like he's spitting them out.
Maybe he's angrier about this than he should be, but hearing Vasquez use that voice had stirred something in his head. It had felt faintly familiar, though he had no memory of Vasquez speaking with that voice ever before.
But maybe he wouldn't.
Vasquez did say he routinely made people forget. ]
So what, is when the hell did you use it on me?
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What the hell are you talking about? I never used it on you.
[ Vasquez isn’t actively trying to deny the fact that he’d attempted to use his voice on the wolf; he just genuinely believes Faraday and the wolf to be two separate beings. By that understanding, Vasquez doesn’t consider that he’d ever tried to coerce Faraday into obedience. ]
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When you talked like that, it kicked something up. Like I remembered it from before. Remembered how it felt.
[ Though that's not the right way to describe it; it was more like trying to remember a dream – not recalling the images, but recalling the impression it left behind. ]
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—and then he pauses for a beat as a thought strikes him.
It must have been... ]
The wolf. I tried during the full moon.
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He never remembers what happens on full moons, no matter how hard he tries. It's possible, he supposes, that those nights would still leave a shadow in his mind, however faint it might be, but—
He clenches his jaw, still doubtful. ]
And that's the only time?
[ Skepticism and anger in his voice to mask the confusion and the hurt.
... stupid, he admits, to feel hurt by the possibility of Vasquez betraying his trust and not righteously furious, but there it is – nagging at him like a sore, open wound rather than a white-hot flame. ]
You swear on your life that's all it's been?
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(He's not sure why he expects that, given his centuries of experience. He's much less human than Faraday, much farther from "natural," despite the wolf's curse.
Vasquez is a walking nightmare, wearing the mask of a man.
Faraday is right to fear and doubt that.)
Vasquez's jaw is set, his eyes narrowed. ]
Why is it you think I would do that to you?
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Because the answer he does have is foolish. Selfish. All of this – it's worked out too well. The two of them finding this strange friendship, riding out together, working their way into an odd balance, finding company after he's spent all these years looking out for himself – this shouldn't have come out of accepting a goddamn suicide mission.
It's too goddamn good to be true. It would only logically follow, given Faraday's shit luck anywhere but at card tables, that something had to be wrong. ]
Don't change the subject. You didn't answer me.
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[ He holds fast to his horse's reins, watching Faraday closely, even as he doesn't turn to face Vasquez again. ]
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[ And he snaps it back, yanking roughly at the straps holding Jack's bridle in place. The horse snorts at him in warning, and Faraday clicks his tongue, forces himself to take a breath to calm down.
Not for his own benefit, and maybe not for Vasquez's, either – but so he doesn't yank at Jack's tack wrong and encourage the horse to knock Faraday on his ass. ]
I already got blank spots in my head from the wolf.
[ And while he's marginally calmer, if only so he can untack Jack properly, he still spits the word out bitterly. ]
It'd be easy takin' advantage of that. I already spend one night out of the month completely out of my own goddamn mind. What's another one or two more, right?
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[ It's a flat statement, like that's answer enough, and it is, to Vasquez. It's clear to him why Faraday is asking, and it shouldn't feel like such a surprise, like such a kick in the teeth.
At the end of the day, what is he? The same thing he's been for centuries, the same monster whose stories were passed down through generations.
It's a perfectly reasonable assumption of an untrustworthy creature.
He doesn't know why he'd convinced himself Faraday thought differently.
Vasquez finally turns back to his horse, starting to unbuckle its bridle.
Over his shoulder, ]
No. I never tried, except the full moon.
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Faraday may still be bristling, but he has the sudden realization that he may have fucked up.
He believes him, is the thing. And maybe that's naive, to simply take Vasquez at his word, especially considering what Faraday witnessed today, but Vasquez doesn't have much reason to lie to him, he thinks.
Faraday's hands still on the buckles for a few breaths before he continues his work, pulling the bridle off of Jack's head and replacing it with the halter from his saddlebag. He hitches him to a nearby tree before working at loosening the saddle. He's quite for a long while as he moves around Jack.
Then, ]
Guessing it didn't work all that well when you did it to the wolf.
[ If it had, Faraday doubts the two of them would keep waking up mauled all to hell. ]
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He hitches his own horse to the same tree, barely looking at Faraday as he undoes his saddlebag.
Short, curt, ]
No. It didn't.
[ If he's honest, it seemed to have some effect, but compared to how it usually works on mortals? It was nothing. ]
It waited when I told it to, but that was it.
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Then again, the wolf can withstand a dozen bullets to the gut. Faraday doubts he'd come out of an exchange like that nearly as well.
With the saddle dropped to the ground, Faraday throws his bags over his shoulder as he pulls off the blanket. He runs a hand along Jack's neck – mostly as an excuse to keep from looking at Vasquez. ]
If it matters, I believe you.
[ Just as brusquely. Reflexively, he glances upward. With the light warming as it is, he knows sunset is around the corner. There's still time, though – time enough to settle in, to build a fire.
It also means that unless they want to spend the last of the daylight pointedly avoiding and ignoring each other, they have time to talk.
Faraday hasn't ruled out the stony silence just yet, though, but he figures he'll at least attempt passing the baton to Vasquez. ]
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Then why did you even ask in the first place?
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[ Faraday snorts derisively and tosses the blanket to the ground with a little more force than necessary. ]
I just watched two murderous sons of bitches almost shit themselves with terror 'cause they couldn't control themselves. And you're the one that told me you use that shit to make people forget.
And then I get this weird sensation that it's familiar, like I know exactly what those two bastards are feelin'.
Put yourself in my position, huh? You're tellin' me you wouldn't start askin' questions?
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Why would I assume first that the man saving my life has been taking advantage of me and making me forget? Unless I thought only that man was a monster and nothing else.
[ Which... Vasquez is. He has been for centuries, and he hasn't cared to be anything else since his heart was first ripped from his chest.
He'd just become so comfortable being treated as something more since Rose Creek. It stings thinking that Faraday might never have stopped looking at him that way. ]
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[ His mouth works faster than his brain, sometimes, though when he registers what Vasquez says, Faraday is quick to pull up short.
He bristles, defensive. ]
Now, hold on. Don't go puttin' words in my mouth. I didn't say any of that.
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[ He snaps it back, and when he drops his saddlebags next to his saddle, it's with far more force than they're owed.
Although he hesitates for a split-second, probably realizing that— maybe he did imply that. Maybe he was too quick to assume the worst, but it's just how his mind works; it's what's helped him stay alive this long.
He clenches his jaw, taking a breath. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to just keep fighting, keep escalating, because that's how this was always going to end, right? One big fiery explosion. This was never going to last.
Maybe it's for the best that this blows up sooner, rather than later. Later, and it might've hurt a lot more. ]
When people got tricks, they use 'em. Either 'cause they need to, or 'cause they want to.
How was I gonna know what you were usin' it for unless I asked? Hell, for I knew, you could've just been doin' it to shut me up when I got too mouthy on the road.
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Why would you travel with me if you think that is what I would do?
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[ And maybe that's what's really grating at him. He scrubs at his face, frustrated. ]
Three months I've known you, and I still barely got any idea what you're capable of, while you know every single way you could do me or the wolf in, if you had a mind for it.
You aren't like any vampire I've heard about. You can walk in broad daylight without havin' to hide yourself. You can take a million bullets, sanctified or otherwise, and walk away. You can go all—
[ He gestures vaguely. ]
Shadowy.
Is that all?
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