It has been a long time since you've seen Javier Escuella, but you thought about him. A lot. Along with the rest of the gang — the memories still haunting you. You had been avoiding anything that had do with it, but now that the Pinkertons were forcing you to hunt down some old friends, you were being forced to confront it.

Javier stared at you, rather then the gun aimed between his eyes. "Come on, are you really going to shoot me? W-We were family." he asked, not noticing the way your hand trembled, nor the conflicting emotions in your eyes. He looked smaller now. Less confident, even though he was trying to be. More disheveled. But, you were sure that he was still the same man that left you to die all those years ago.