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Until the night they returned from London, Octavius had never fully grasped the expression ‘quiet as the grave’.
Larry was gone, the echo of his footsteps fading away from the Hall of Miniatures, and there was not a single living thing left in the hall - with the exception of two. From their vantage point atop the bench, Octavius looked down into his home. Jedediah’s knuckles brushed against his own as they stood together. For once, the cowboy had none of his usual bravado or bluster; he was silent, face impassive.
“Our time is almost up,” Octavius said softly. The quiet was almost too delicate to break.
Jedediah didn’t even blink. “I know.”
“Is there something – anything, you’d like to do?”
“Yeah, I want to go back to England and tell ‘em I’ve changed my mind.” He shook his head, and he might have been smiling. “No, I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how I don’t even get to say goodbye.”
Octavius followed his gaze. He, too, was looking at his home.
“I‘m almost jealous,” he said, staring at the artificial sunlight. “I don’t know which is worse - bein’ them and bein’ clueless, or bein’ us and knowing we’re gonna die.”
“Oh, don’t say it like that.”
He shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
“Jedediah, I know you're an honest man.” He took a steadying breath. “May I ask you for one more favor?”
Jed turned, meeting his eyes for the first time since they got off the plane in New York. “What?”
“Lie to me. Tell me I will see you again.”
“Oct, you know that ain’t true.”
“Yes, but I find that it would be easier to believe coming from you. Please. Just this last kindness, then we can return to our rightful places.”
“No.” Jed crossed his arms and looked down.
His stomach turned. “No?”
“Yeah. I’m staying right here. They can put us back after the sun comes up, when it ain’t my problem anymore. I ain’t leaving you. Not now, not while I have somethin’ to say about it. They’ll have to pick me up and move me themselves.”
Octavius would have replied, but the stone that had suddenly appeared in his throat was solid and heavy against his vocal cords.
“Oh, shit, don’t cry,” Jedediah said. “Hey. It’s alright. We’ll see each other again soon, okay?” He laughed thinly. “I’ll see you in Hell.”
He cracked a soggy smile. “So you’ve told me.”
“Yeah, come on! It’s real nice there. It’s always warm, and nobody cares if you cuss, and you can drink all the liquor you want.”
“Sounds like your paradise.”
“Yeah, well.” He crossed his arms and scuffed his boot against the wooden top of the bench. “It ain’t supposed to be. But you and I have always been able to make our own fun, right?”
“And what makes you so sure that we’ll both be there?”
“Oh, you gotta be. The Devil’d be proud to have you. You’re a heathen, and—” He paused, looking between Octavius and the floor. “—Lord knows I’m a sinner. Yeah. We’ll have a grand old time, me ‘n’ you.”
Sunrise was upon them; they were out of time. Octavius drew his sword in the last second before his limbs stiffened in rigor mortis. “Jedediah,” he said quietly.
In the corner of his vision, he could see Jed setting himself into his own display pose. “Yeah, partner?”
“I love you.”
As the day sank into his bones, turning his mind foggy and his body numb, he could almost hear Jedediah’s reply.
I love you t—