One-eyed Jacks. [ He remembers saying it, tossing the dynamite, and huffs a breathless laugh, groaning after. His eyes must have closed cause he opens them at feeling the hand at his shoulder. He sees how rough the other guy is, his one arm in a sling, and his brows knit together. ]

No thanks to that face of yours to scare me back in the arms of death. [ He pales, though, eyes widening slightly at the mention of Ethel. It's a name he reserves only for his guns these days, and that look in the other man's eyes makes him figure it ain't the ladies he keeps at his hips that he's talking about. ] She ain't---she ain't no place I'm ever gonna see her again.

[ He settles as much as he can, pain making him restless, and tries to take a look around the room. ] This what winning looks like?

It looks like shit.