Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

Author's Note: So...I watched this great little TV movie today called "The Outsider" with Tim Daly and Naomi Watts, and this little oneshot/alternate ending type thing just wouldn't get out of my head until I wrote it down. Basically, instead of Johnny going into town to track down Fergus and his boys (resulting in the classic Western shootout on Main Street), they end up taking Benjo, and Johnny goes off in pursuit.

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Johnny Gault climbed off the horse and wrapped the reins around a tree branch. It was pitch black but he could see flames flickering a few yards ahead. He threaded his way through the underbrush, one hand hovering above his pistol. He unsnapped the holster.

"We know you're out there, Johnny!" a voice taunted him from up ahead. Johnny's hazel eyes flashed in the firelight as he stepped into a ring of trees. Fergus was standing behind the flames, Ray next to him. Beside Ray, Benjo's terrified eyes looked up at Johnny over the top of Ray's hand. Ray tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder and Benjo cried out, muffled by Ray's fingers. Johnny saw red.

"All right, Fergus, I'm here. Let the boy go," he demanded. His eyes searched for Fergus's other man, but didn't see him. No doubt he was hiding in the trees somewhere, an insurance policy if Johnny didn't do as Fergus asked. "I got no problem takin' another bullet tonight," Johnny warned him. "Take you with me."

"And Ray'll shoot the boy and you'll have his blood on your hands in hell," Fergus countered. He smiled, teeth glinting in the low light. "You and I both know that ain't gonna happen."

Johnny's face darkened. Fergus had him over a barrel. He was a good shot, hell, a great shot. In another life, that would've been the end of the conversation.

But that was before Rebecca. Before Benjo. He'd never forgive himself, in hell or not, if something happened to Rebecca's son. Not after everything she'd been through. Not after everything she'd done for him.

Not after everything Fergus and his men and done to her.

Johnny lifted his pistol from the holster, saw Fergus's fingers inch around his own trigger. Ray pulled the hammer back on his gun, and Benjo flinched at the sound. The tears in his eyes almost made Johnny shoot Ray, just to keep the man from hurting Benjo further. Instead, he lifted it out with two fingers, and tossed it into the dirt. Slowly, he held his hands out at his sides.

"You've got me where you want me, Fergus. Now let the boy go," Johnny barked.

There was a tense moment. Then, Fergus nodded to Ray, and Ray let go of Benjo, giving the boy a kick on the backside for spite. The little Mennonite boy ran for Johnny, threw his arms around him.

"Let go," Johnny told him, keeping his hands out to the side. Benjo jerked back as if he'd been hit, Johnny's words stinging almost as much as a slap. He looked at him, wide eyed. "Go on. Get outta here. Get home to your momma."

The boy shook his head vehemently. "Now!" Johnny's voice commanded. Tears fell freely down the boy's face now, and Johnny mentally kicked himself for the harsh tone, but it was necessary. He needed the boy gone, to know he was all right before he turned himself over to Fergus.

Benjo hugged the gunslinger one last time, then took off into the trees. Johnny waited until he couldn't hear the boy's shoes cracking through the pine needles before he spoke again. "Now what?"

"Oughta shoot you where you stand," Ray said menacingly, training his gun on Johnny.

Johnny heard the sound of a click. To the confusion of Fergus and Ray, his upper lip curled into a grin.

"The hell you smilin' at?" Ray asked him.

A shot rang out, catching Ray in the thigh. The man yelped, his gun firing, the shot pinging harmlessly into the dirt near Johnny's boot. "That," Johnny answered him, and dove to the side as Fergus fired on him. Johnny's hands scrambled in the dirt for his gun as another shot rang out in the night. Johnny's hand felt cold steel and he rolled onto his back, firing one shot between the eyes of Fergus. The cattle baron's eyes went glassy. Johnny watched with a satisfied smirk as Fergus dropped to his knees, then keeled over on his side.

He stood up, stalking over to where Ray was writhing on the ground, bleeding profusely from his leg. "This's for hurtin' that little boy," Johnny told him, and fired point blank. Ray stopped moving.

Johnny waited a moment, just to make sure, then called out, "Benjo? You all right?"

The little boy came flying from the trees, left hand still holding Johnny's spare pistol from his belt. Benjo flew at him, nearly knocking them both into the flames. "You okay?" Johnny asked him again as the boy buried himself in Johnny's coat. He felt Benjo nod into his waist, deftly took the second gun from him and put it into his pocket. "Hey." Johnny bent down so he was eye level with Benjo Yoder. The boy was shaking. Impulsively, Johnny pulled him into a hug. "Good job," he praised him. "You did good."

"I-I was aiming for his chest," Benjo whispered into his pants leg, and Johnny paused before ruffling Benjo's hair.

"Pistol's a little different than that slingshot of yours. Well, you still did all right. And we'll work on it." Johnny hefted the boy into his arms. "We've got time," he said thoughtfully. "We've got time. Come on. Let's get home to your mom."

"Are they gonna bother us anymore?" Benjo asked Johnny as they walked back to where Johnny's horse was tethered.

Johnny's face darkened as he lifted Benjo into the saddle. "Never again," he promised. The words meant more, promised more, but Benjo didn't catch it. Then, Johnny swung himself up behind Benjo, and they rode home.