oom: stables, for ramon

He needs to check on things - even if he hasn't been here in ten years, in his timeline, he's still the boss - so Doc makes his way out into the stables with the intention of seeing how his stock is doing and perhaps taking Cortez out for some work.

What he finds, however --

agitated horses, signs of a struggle and scuff marks in the straw, a body lying on the ground near the wall, blood staining the shirt, and the all-too-familiar scent of sulfur on the air

-- is not what he's expecting.

Doc draws the Colt from his hip with a well-practiced grace as silently crosses the space between doorway and body - no, he's still breathing - and moves into a crouch. He doesn't see a weapon on the floor, or on...

...Ramon?

He narrows his eyes and shifts on his feet, gun still cocked (but muzzle pointed at the floor) in his right hand. He reaches out with his left and taps the drug lord on the shoulder.

"Ramon."

Hopefully he'll wake up on his own, and Doc won't have to go get help to carry his ass inside.