Re: BRAWL!
Nothing was ever simple when he was out on the town with Locke. They'd gone to one of the seedier saloons, sure, knocked back a few shots of whiskey as Locke regaled him with stories from back East and his trip, and a few more while Don told him about the going-ons of town, necessarily shorter but with rather astute parallels for some events, because people were people the whole world over, and town was just a microcosm.
By then, Locke had informed him that he was getting sappy and drunk and should flirt with the pretty girls for them both while he went and won their fortunes. Which was just about what Don did, with general success, and then the mood of the saloon changed, storm-front fast, until his entire forehead itched with the building towards a strike.
It happened first in the corner, a loud call to draw, and then at the card table, people were standing and shouting, and, damnit, Locke was right in the middle of them, patiently getting his sleeves checked and provoking them with that damn silver tongue of his - and, alright, those knives he kept up his sleeve in case of trouble.
Damnit. It didn't matter if Locke was lying, or if he'd done as he claimed he would and played honest: Locke was family. Don was on his feet and crossing the saloon, girl in a scandalous skirt absolutely forgotten, and then there was the gleam of light on gunmetal and he was crashing into the fight, hand going for the wrist with the gun and pressing hard at the pressure point, until he screamed and dropped the gun.
And then his friends tried to jump in to save him. Which was really very stupid, six ganging up on one. Hardly fair at all, when that one was a doctor who knew exactly how to hit to incapacitate and had no fear of pain.