Boothill finally locating Oswaldo, and going to find him, but argenti wants to come with him, so he lets him. They go there together and they finally find him, where Boothill runs off to go finish the job while Argenti takes care of some smaller people.

Boothill finally manages to kill him, and as he stares at his dead body he can’t help the null and void despair that tugs deep in his gut, watching the blood drip down his hands and pool around him. The man he had been seeking for so long is dead, but what now? His family was gone, he had no parents to return to, no siblings to hug, no daughter to hold. He had nothing to live for

So with trembling hands he took the gun from his holster, admiring the silver, black, and good metal of the gun, gleaming in a sicking way as it caught the light, reflecting his deranged reflection. He turns the god on himself, bringing the barrel to his head, finger hovering over the trigger.

Argenti bursts in, a horrified look of pure terror painted across his features, blood now cold as it raced through his veins. He stares at the man he loves, own gun pressed against his head, ready to take his own life.

He shakily steps forward, small steps , not wanting to scare boothill into any rash movements. Begging - pleading so desperately for his beloved to put the gun down, to not kill himself, to not leave him.

He sobs, he whispers such heavy words, his once elegance and careful speech no more, too terrified that the one person he had truly loved more than anything would die in front of him, bleed out in his very arms.

Boothill simply stares back, breath shaky as his hands tremble, why did he care? Why did he feel so strongly about him dying? Did someone truly love him so much? Was he not just a vessel of revenge, built to take out the one who had ruined his life? A machine of pain and destruction to everyone he had ever loved? Why did argenti care so much?

With trembling hands he lowered the gun, falling forward into Argenti’s strong ands warm embrace as the knight rushed forward, intercepting him as the ranger trembled, his body racking with dry sobs, wishing he could finally cry - that he could truly let his sorrows go. But alas, he made this choice, he willed to become this creaking, ticking body.

Argenti didn’t care, though, as he held his love in his hands, tears spilling from his eyes and staining his cheeks as his chest heaves from the fear of nearly losing his dearest. His hands stroke Boothill’s hair, gently caressing the soft hair that was fanned out across his shoulders. He pulled him close, wrapping his body around him tight a welcoming coat, a layer of protection that Boothill never knew he so desperately wanted.