I swear I got things accomplished in Spanish today. Really. It's just, along with marvelling over Javrey during the lab, I also ended up writing a No Country for Old Men drabble during class. I blame Javrey.


No title. It's a drabble.

RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Carson Wells/Anton Chigurh
SUMMARY: He knows Chigurh better than anyone.
NOTES: I think I need to go bar my doors and windows now. Seriously, ficcing a character is supposed to make him LESS intimidating.
DISCLAIMER: No Country for Old Men was originally created by Cormac McCarthy. I make no claims otherwise.





Carson Wells had never seen Anton Chigurh kill - no one who lived had - but he'd seen the aftermath. To the practiced eye, the way a man killed told a story more intimate than most people would ever want to get with a killer.

Wells prided himself on understanding Chigurh long before they met. When Chigurh first followed him to his hotel room on November twenty-eighth, Wells got just what he expected. Chigurh fucked like he killed, brutally efficient.

The second time he followed Wells to his hotel room, Wells wished like hell that he'd left Chigurh's story for someone else.




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