A/N: Just wrote this while watching Young Guns on TV. Pretty nonsensical, and it doesn't really have a specific time when it took place.

Disclaimer:I OWN NOTHING!!!!

Billy the Kid. That kind of name didn't come easy. I had to be strong, I had to be tough. I had to laugh everything off like it didn't matter to me. Like nothing mattered. But it did. I remember John, I remember how he took me in and I thought my life of crime was over. But what I remember more vividly is how he died, looking right into my eyes. But me and the Regulators-sorry John- the Regulators and I we had some good times. Justice was what we were told to deliver and we did. No courts no judge, swift western justice. Another thing that wasn't supposed to matter to me. Another thing that wasn't supposed to matter but did. I can see each and every one of the twenty-one men I killed. And Mckloskey, he was fun. He never even saw me coming. BANG! Come to think of it I don't think Doc seen it coming either, but he got the picture soon enough. Buckshot Roberts. A worthy adversary. He got Doc right in the hand, a shot I'll never know how he made. And then he got Dick, three shots so quick nobody had time to think. We filled that outhouse full of holes. And being trapped in that smoldering house with Alex and all my Pals. Nothing hit me so hard as when those good men died. Charlie, Alex and Dirty Steve. All of them brave, but you can't get by on bravery alone. Contrary to what's been said, you need luck too. I don't care who you are. Lady Luck has saved my skin more times than I can count. Then there was Murphy. That son of a bitch. He killed John and I killed him. An eye for an eye. I got him right between his.

And then, for a while things were quiet. Hack bounty hunters came for me and one by one I gunned 'em down. My legend grew, so fast I couldn't even keep up. And so I went to see Governor Lew Wallace. "A treaty," said he. "A testimony against Murphy men. In exchange for leniency."

But I'd have none of it. "My testimony in exchange for a full pardon." And the bastard agreed. I must've been losing my edge, because I walked right into his trap. No jail could hold me though. No sir, I broke out in no time at all. I had to go and get the boys before I could bust out Doc and Chavez though. Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh and Pat Garret. We imitated the lynch mob, and that stupid dunce they call a sheriff fell for it! Ha! Doc and Chavez fell for it too. I let them believe it for a while too. The looks on their faces were the payment for all the trouble I'd gone through for them.

"I'm a school teacher from the city of new York," I mocked. That was his plea you see. That he'd never laid eyes on me before. They recognized my voice then. "Howdy Doc. How're your drawers?"

He said it was good to see me, but as I look back on it, I don't think he meant it. I think it just opened up old wounds. He snapped after I helped him with his chains. I guess I provoked him, but you ride loose over New Mexico constantly on the run for as long as I did, and you get a little rough around the edges. We fought each other, even when they dragged us apart, it wasn't over.

"I know you you son of a bitch!" He yelled.

"You know me Scurlock? Well I know you! You killed half the men I got credit for! I seen you with blood all over yourself! Just 'cause you went back east, married and put on a silk cravat, that don't change what ya did!" A moment of silence. "You remember John Tunstall? Remember the story he told us about the three Chinamen playing Fan tan? Someone runs up to them and says the world is coming to an end! The first one says, well I best go to the mission and pray. The second one says, well Hell! I'm gonna get me a case of Mescal and six whores! And the third one says, I'll shall finish the game. I shall finish the game Doc."

Then we took the Mexican Blackbird, after stopping off at Beever's for my army. My army of a simple orphan and a farmer. We were in trouble.

The ride wasn't pleasant, but what did I care? My gang was back together! We were the Regulators again! But it couldn't last forever. Deputy Carlyle, the name still makes me laugh. Mr. Law Way. Oh he was the best of them all. I guess he never really had a chance, but that's life. He expected me to turn Chavez over. Chavez my Pal! He brought it on himself.

Whatever possessed Patsy to accept the Santa Fe Ring's offer, and track me down I'll never know. But he surprised me, he was always just one step behind. Until, he was one step ahead. He got Tom. Just a boy. Fourteen and a half. He did something no other death had ever done to me. I felt something new. Was it regret? Pain? No. I realized it was sadness. Just a boy, and I led him to his death. Doc was right, I can still hear him. "You rode a fifteen year old boy straight to his grave, and the rest of us straight to hell."

Then Doc's fatal mistake. His mistake was emotion. There was no room for them in the West. He tried to leave, and Patsy got him. I still remember his last words. "Lets finish the game." Poor Doc must've gained at leas ten pounds of lead leading us out. I didn't make it though. But what did it matter? I was angry Doc was dead. And Pat did it. He wasn't Patsy to me anymore. He was my enemy.

"Pat! You son of a bitch! You killed the boy! And you killed Doc! You knew him!"

But he got me. Took me into another jail. Lincoln. Damn it all! I hated that place. "I got eighteen dimes in each barrel boy." Well good for you Bob, you just bought your own death. To me whole dollar and eighty cents was too much for a scum like him.

They had a young pup acting as deputy. Bell. He was almost too easy. Jane Greathouse sent me a pouch of tobacco with one piece of paper inside. 'Outhouse' was scribbled on it. I never thought a whore would help me out of such a tight squeeze. There was gun in that outhouse. I didn't think he would do it. I was Billy the Kid! What was he thinking? I already had my gun drawn, and he thought he could kill me. I was sorry to do it. Just a short time ago we'd laughed over some phony magic tricks I'd shown him. Then I had no choice. BANG! And Bell fell to the floor. BANG!! "Goodbye Bob! Best dollar eighty I ever spent!" And it was.

Garrett's Place. Written in blood, so it had to be. I used Bell's blood. It was the first time I'd had blood on my hands in the literal sense. I wasn't sure if I liked it. Blood didn't bother me, but he'd never hurt a fly. He was just playing the part.

"Quit nappin' on the job Bob!" I yelled. Like I said, I had to laugh it off. A trail of destruction was every outlaws trademark. Like it or not. I almost wanted to stick around to see the look on Pat's face when he seen 'Garrett's Place' pretty as you please, written on the wall. "Buenos Torres amigos."

I found Hendry and Chavez, but Chavez didn't look so good.

"You're not dead," Hendry breathed.

"Do I look dead?" Another crazy little laugh. It masked the pain. "You should a seen the short work I made of Bob Ollinger. Spread him out like Tula Rosa."

"Garrett already took me." The words still sound in my ears. And then, he just wandered out the door to die. I couldn't hold back my tears for much longer. Some were already shining in my eyes.

"Buckshot George," I said. "You wanted a name. That's your name. You wanted a name, that's it. It's a good name."

"My name is Hendry William French." I guess that was his way of saying that he didn't want to play anymore.

"That's good name too," I said quietly.

I lifted my arms, and twirled around to the music. I didn't know what I was thinking, but something just took a hold of my body and told me to do it. Maybe it was the only way I knew to get rid of some of those emotions. Most of them I'd never felt before. And then Delvunita Maxwell was there. In my arms. I'll never know if she set me up, or if it just happened to play out the way it did. "Lets finish the game." What more could I do? He wouldn't let me go to Old Mexico. He was right. I could never stay there. I'd be just another old Gringo. "You remember somethin' Pat. You'll never be me. You'll only be the man that shot Billy the Kid. Hasta La Vista."

"Hasta La Vista. You crazy son of a bitch."

I was a hero.

I was a god.

I was a legend.

I was courageous.

I was loyal.

I was Billy the Kid.

And I lived life with only one guarantee. I'll make ya famous.