Once upon a time, there was a scared little boy. He'd never held a gun before. But there came a day when he had to.
He picked up a revolver. It was heavy, so heavy that it took both hands to hold it steady. He could barely get his fingers around the grip. But he had to.
As the weeks and months passed, it got easier to carry, although it grew heavier with every bullet he fired. Then, somewhere along the line, the gun became a part of him; a burden he might put down, but could never put away.
Kid tried not to think about it much. It was the hand he'd been dealt, and he knew better than to curse over the cards that fate—or God, or whatever—had chosen to give him. He'd just have to play it out. The odds weren't good, but he had an ace in the hole:
His partner carried the same memories he did, bore many of the same wounds. They were both scarred, in ways that they could never speak of, not even to each other. But they were together, and that made all the difference.
With his friend at his side, Kid knew the burden he carried wasn't his alone. Maybe, one day, they might even find a way to put it behind them forever. It was another long shot, sure. But with Heyes, somehow even the impossible had possibilities. Until then, they needed to stay alive, stay together.
Until then, Kid... well, he'd do what he had to.