Author Note: I know the plot has probably been overused but I couldn't help myself, it fuels my craving for feedback.
The fish were almost done and Vin turned over the stick so that they didn't burn on one side. Chris was checking the small skillet of biscuits he had stirred together from the ingredients in his bags. They were several days journey away from town, having gone to deliver some papers for the judge. Buck and JD had wanted to make the trip but Chris felt the need to get away for a while. He had been feeling like a caged animal with Nathan hovering over him since he'd gotten stabbed in a saloon fight a few weeks ago. The ride across the desert was just what he needed."You plannin' on headin' back first thing in the morning?" Vin asked, breaking his concentration.
"Nah, no need to hurry. It was quiet and the others can handle things for a few days. Let's just take it easy and enjoy the scenery."
They had just finished their meal when the thunder of rapidly approaching hoof beats caused them to come to their feet and stare across the open prairie. Several horses raced across the uneven ground, stirring up a dust cloud that concealed the men chasing them. A quick rapport of gunfire spun both men around as bullets struck them. Vin was hit in his right arm, ruining any chance of drawing his mare's leg. Chris managed to draw and get off a shot before a second volley knocked him down. His shot did knock one of the men from his horse. The other man screamed in fury as he rode down on the two injured men.
The Indian, Ravenwing, bore down on the men, his club spinning the longhaired man as he tried to regain his feet. Landing on the dusty ground, he brought the club down savagely across the back of the yellow haired man who had killed his brother. The longhaired man called out in Kiowa, ordering him to stop. Turning in disbelief that a pale face could speak intelligently, he paused.
"Where did you learn to speak?" Ravenwing demanded harshly as he glared at the other man.
"I lived among the Kiowa for a while. Why did you shoot at us?" Vin asked in the Indian language as he swiped at the blood running from the open wound on his forehead.
"We thought you were trying to stop us from taking the horses. Now, I will tie up your friend and you will help me retrieve the body of my brother." He stopped to help the longhaired man tie his handkerchief around the wound where the bullet went straight through his arm after relieving him of his weapon.
"You gotta let me tend to my friend," Vin protested.
"My brother first, then your murdering friend."
Vin looked to see that Chris's wounds were only seeping blood and he nodded before following the Indian back across the dusty ground. He grunted as he hefted the man's feet with his injured arm. They lugged the body back to the small campsite and eased it to the ground. The Indian tenderly adjusted his brother's clothing and folded his hands on his chest before beginning a prayer chant. While he was occupied, Vin tended to Chris. The first bullet had passed through his shoulder but the second was still in his thigh. Where he had been hit with the club, the skin was already taking on the deep hues of bruising. He tried to palm the pocketknife the blond had in his pocket but the Indian paused in his chant to warn him that he had seen it. Vin tossed the knife away with a sigh. His head was pounding and he was feeling dizzy as he tightened the handkerchief around Chris's thigh. After a moment, he realized that the chanting had stopped.
"I need to get him back to town," Vin said calmly as he struggled to focus on the double image of the Indian kneeling over the dead body.
"No, you and your friend are my prisoners. You will help me to return my brother's body to his village and then you will work off your debt."
"Debt? What debt?"
"The horses were to have been a wedding present, you will help me to gather them again. When I have the horses, you and your friend may go."
"My friend will die if he don't get help!" Vin shouted, causing his headache to throb even more violently.
"That is not my problem. You cost us the horses, you will help me to gather them again. If the yellow hair dies, it will be in payment for the life of my brother. He is lucky I did not kill him when I first arrived."
Ravenwing got up and walked over to the two white men and pulled a length of leather cord from his belt. He used it to tie Vin's hands together. It was getting dark and he wanted to check the perimeter of the small camp before trying to settle in for the night. He surveyed the two horses belonging to the white men and decided that he would take the one that belonged to the yellow hair when he died.
Vin got up and swayed dizzily as he stumbled over to the blankets and gathered them up. Carrying them over to Chris, he took one and shook it out before draping it over his friend. He was worried that the blond had not yet wakened and he could feel the heat already coming off of the lean body. He also took up the canteen and pulled out the stopper.
"No water," the Indian called from near the fire.
"He's burning up with fever, he needs water!"
"No water," he reiterated, getting up and taking the canteen from Vin's hands. Too disoriented to argue, the sharpshooter sank to the ground against a tree and stared at his friend until he the darkness overtook him.
By morning, things were not looking good for Chris. His fever was dangerously high and he was shaking. Vin's headache had eased slightly but he was still dizzy and nauseous. He noticed that the Indian had already gotten up and gathered all of the weapons into one of the saddlebags he had taken from near the saddles. Chris's spare clothing and other belongings were strewn around the camp
"Get up and make ready to leave. We must hurry if we are to make my brother's village before dark," Ravenwing called at seeing the longhaired man awake. Vin struggled to his feet and grabbed the canteen. He boldly gathered Chris up and tipped the canteen to his lips, waiting for the Indian to knock him senseless for it. When the blond had taken several swallows of the water, he took a few deep swallows for himself and replaced the cork. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he moved to Peso's side. The black gelding nickered softly, pressing his head against his owner. Turning to the tack, he grabbed the saddle blanket and tossed it across the horse's back. When he reached for the saddle, he almost fell over from the surge of pain that engulfed his head and darkened his vision.
"You must hurry and get your friend on a horse," Ravenwing called coldly as he watched the man struggle. "If you cannot manage it, I will put a bullet in his head and leave him here for the vultures."
Vin glared at the other man, knowing how degrading the Kiowa considered the threat of leaving the dead exposed that way. Holding his tongue, he picked up the saddle and tossed it across Peso's back. The gelding sidestepped and looked at the man, he had never treated him so roughly before.
"Come here, Peso. I'm too dizzy to be chasin' you all over the place," Vin grumbled as he bent down to draw the cinch under and pass it through the buckle. Saddling Pony was easier and he was thankful for that small mercy. He led the horses over to where Chris lay on the ground and prepared to heft his friend up and across the saddle. The Indian finally came over to help after watching him stagger under the weight of the heavier man. Getting himself into the saddle was an adventure in pain as his injured arm began to throb anew. The Indian grabbed the reins of the other horses and knotted them into a length of rope before riding away.
They rode through the heat of the day and long into the afternoon before Ravenwing stopped and cut his brother's horse from the rope. Slapping the animal sharply on the flanks, he drove it on toward the tiny village. He didn't want to ride in there and bear the brunt of their anger, so he remounted and led his captives away, toward the smaller village located several miles farther around the edge of the valley. They stopped near the river and he decided that he would wait another night before returning to his own home. He helped the longhaired man to pull his friend down from the saddle.
Chris was burning up with fever when he tumbled into Vin's arms. He dragged the sagging body over to a patch of thick grass and let him down gently. He returned for the blankets and tried to make his friend more comfortable. Grabbing his saddlebag, he started to pull out his bag of herbs that Nathan had given him. Ravenwing jerked the bag from his hands and dumped the contents on the ground. Satisfied that nothing dangerous to him was there, he dropped the bag and walked back to where he was building a small fire.
Ripping the pants from around the wound, Vin gently pulled the hardened, blood soaked material apart and examined the hole in Chris's thigh. It was swollen and oozing pus. Turning to the Indian, he pleaded for the pocketknife so he could open the wound and remove the bullet. His captor considered for a moment before walking over and looking down on the kneeling man. In spite of the scruffy hair on his face, the longhaired man was appealing. A grin curled his lips as he pulled the knife from his pocket.
"If I let you tend to his injuries, will you do whatever I want you to do?"
Without thinking, Vin nodded, "Anything, just let me treat his wound and brew some willow bark tea for him." The knife slid into his hand and the Indian turned on his heel and walked away.
Chris tossed and moaned in pain as Vin opened the bullet's path and pressed down to force the pus and gore from the wound. Using the tip of the blade, he pried the bullet out. A pot of very hot water was thrust out to him, along with some clean rags from their bags. He scrubbed the wound as hard as he dared before binding it up with more cloth. The wound on his shoulder didn't look as bad when he cleaned and dressed it. He also accepted one of their tin cups filled with hot water and stirred the herbs into it. After it had steeped, he blew on it to cool it and lifted Chris to coax the blond to drink. He took the empty pan to the nearby stream and dipped up some cool water. Soaking the last piece of cloth, he began bathing the heated body. When he had done all he could, he sank back on his heels. His own arm was throbbing and his wrists were raw from twisting in the thin leather ropes.
Just watching the way the longhaired man tended to the yellow hair made Ravenwing want him. Seeing that he was finished treating the other man, he motioned for the longhaired man to rise and come to him. He untied the cloth from around the wound on his arm and cleaned it. The captive hissed and trembled under the firm touches but didn't complain. The bullet wound bled a little but it was fairly clean. When he was finished redressing his arm, Ravenwing gently caressed the stubbled, square jaw.
Vin jerked away from the hand and swayed dizzily. When he could focus his eyes again, he saw the hunger in the Indian's eyes. A new kind of nausea set his stomach to rolling as he was pulled to his feet. He shuddered under the appraising gaze.
"You said you would do anything," Ravenwing reminded him. "Or are you like the pale faces, who give their word because it means nothing to them?"
Sighing in resignation, Vin let his head fall submissively. He was pulled to his feet and dragged to a nearby tree. His hands were untied and his arms wrapped around the trunk of a tree and over a limb before being tied again. He turned his face so that the wounded side of his forehead was away from the rough bark. Strong hands reached around and undid his pants, dragging them down his legs. Pulling off his boots, the pants were tugged off and then the underwear. Those same hands pulled his hips back and held him as his ankle was kicked, widening his stance.
"I have always wanted to do this to a white man, Long Hair. I hear that you are fragile so I will try not to damage you," Ravenwing said as he took hold of the long, sienna curls and pulled, tipping Vin's face back. "Don't move." He went to the saddlebags and grabbed a bottle of saddle oil he had found there the night before. Returning to the bound captive, he poured a few drops of the slick oil on his fingers.
Vin tried not to move or cry out at the intrusion. Keeping his head down and his breathing deep and even, he struggled to remain relaxed. His captor prepared him thoroughly before gripping his hips. The broad, blunt head slowly and inexorably impaled him, burning as it stretched him further than the fingers had. An overpowering sensation to bear down gripped him and he shook his head to stave it off. Finally, his captor was fully sheathed inside of him.
It was so good, he wanted to give in and thrust hard and deep. Ravenwing loosened one hand and stroked up and down his captive's thigh. Slowly, he pulled back and pushed in again. Gradually, he built up to a faster rhythm. He was pleased to see that the man could take it without crying out. He had taken other captives from enemy tribes and they always cried out at his entry. It was very satisfying to feel the tight muscles play over his shaft. He reached his climax, resting his weight against the slight body of the longhaired man. Because he didn't soften right away, he continued to thrust, spreading his milky fluid along the tight passage.
Soft, rhythmic grunts reached his ears and Chris tried to focus on them. He felt hot and he hurt. He couldn't figure out what had happened. The last thing he remembered was sharing freshly caught fish with Vin. Summoning the saliva to swallow, he whispered for his friend.
"Vin?"
The tracker's head popped up at the breathy whisper. From where he was, he could see Chris and knew he hadn't moved. When he heard the hoarse cry of his name again, he tensed.
"Answer him," Ravenwing goaded in Kiowa. "Speak to the yellow hair."
"Chris, it's alright. Try to rest, I'm right here," he called. He could see that the blond was trying to look around for him. "Lie down, Chris. You need to rest."
"So thirsty," the blond whispered.
His captor hadn't stopped the steady thrusting and it was difficult for Vin to keep his voice level and even as he called back to his friend. "I'll bring … you some … water in, in a minute." Bracing himself against the tree, he willed the man to finish so he could return to Chris. Finally, the thick shaft slipped free and he was empty and alone for a minute, but only for a minute. Ravenwing rifled through his belongings before returning with something in his hand.
"We use these on our female captives, so they are always ready for us. I want you to be ready for me, so I think I'll use it on you."
In the man's hand he held a smoothed piece of wood. It was about four inches long and half the thickness of his wrist. Two leather cords ran through a hole in the bottom. When it was pushed into his abused opening, Vin couldn't resist crying out. The cords were divided and one set was passed between his legs. The ends were wrapped a couple of times around his waist and tied at the small of his back. Every time he moved, he would be reminded of his violation. His captor untied his hands and gestured for him to put his clothes back on. He was amused at watching how carefully the man moved with the devise in place. He did manage to get his pants and boots back on and headed for the stream to get water for his friend. The longhaired man knelt carefully, his knees widely spread, as he tipped a cup of water for the blond to drink.
When they lay down to sleep that night, Ravenwing tied a cord to Vin's ankles and tied the end to his own. That way, if his captive tried to get away, he would feel it immediately. He enjoyed watching the man try to get comfortable. Finally, all three men slept.
Chris's fever broke around daylight. Vin kept the blankets tucked in close around the blond, relieved that he was getting better. His own discomfort was easing as his body adjusted to the instrument his captor had pressed into his body. He hoped he was going to remove it soon as he was feeling the need to relieve himself. Less than an hour later, one of the horses nickered at something and woke the Indian. Vin was dragged into the bushes and the devise removed. He was sore and raw, wincing as his bowels moved. Streaks of blood in his stool told him that there was at least some tearing inside and he hoped it wasn't too bad. He wasn't surprised when his captor shoved him up against the nearest tree and pushed into him again. This time, he couldn't suppress the cry of pain at the brutal intrusion. Finally, it was over and the hateful plug pushed back into place. Vin wiped away the tears that had squeezed from the corners of his eyes before pulling his pants back up.
Breakfast was dried jerky and fruit from their packs. Vin ate sparingly, his stomach was too upset to put much on it. He made some more tea for Chris and forced him to drink it. He also kept a close eye on the Indian. When he had finished eating, he brought more leather rope and moved to tie the blond. He lashed Chris's hands securely around a decent sized sapling.
"Saddle your horse and let's go see if we can round up those horses we lost," Ravenwing ordered.
"You can't mean to leave him here all alone!" Vin protested angrily.
"It won't matter if I put a bullet in him," the Indian warned. "The horses are near, it won't take long if we don't spook them."
Reluctantly, Vin saddled his horse. Mentally, he was dreading trying to get up there, not to mention riding with that thing inside him. Mustering his courage, he pulled up, slowly swinging his leg over and coming to rest lightly on the saddle. He kept his legs as tight as possible to keep his weight off of his ass.
"After we gather these horses, will you let us go?" Vin asked as they set out after the horses.
"You would return and seek vengeance against me."
"No, I only want to get my friend to town so our friend Nathan can look after him. If you let us go, we will ride away and never come back," Vin promised.
I will give it some thought," Ravenwing said as he squinted to see the small herd of horses in the distance.
Vin was sore when he slipped from the saddle and sank to his knees beside Peso. He still had a pounding headache and was sick to his stomach in addition to the pain of the wooden devise. After a moment, he pulled himself up and began to unsaddle the horse. Dropping the heavy saddle and blanket, he slipped the bridle off and let the gelding go to the water. Turning, he moved to check on Chris. The blond was asleep but it was obvious that he'd had an accident. His tight, black jeans were damp to the touch and the odor was unmistakable.
"I need to get him cleaned up and changed into clean clothes," he called across the small camp.
"I'll help you with him in a few minutes," Ravenwing answered. He was actually looking forward to seeing the yellow hair unclothed.
He missed the fiercely protective look that flared in the sky blue eyes. Vin went ahead and pulled off Chris's boots and socks before checking his leg again. He saw that he would have to open the wound again and scrub it out but it wasn't as bad as the day before. He rooted around in the saddlebag, looking for another pair of pants. The only ones left in either bag were his but they would fit. He waited for their captor to come over and cut the leather cords from Chris's wrists and then began to undress him. The Indian helped where he could, quickly realizing that the longhaired man didn't want him touching the other man.
"Get undressed and I'll carry him down to the stream," he said as he gathered the yellow hair into his arms. He caught the reluctant pause before he turned away. Laying the injured man on a bed of moss, he undressed swiftly and carried the man into the water. He convulsed slightly at the cool water's touch on his still slightly heated flesh and Ravinwing grinned. The longhaired man heard the gasp and ran down to the water. He tried to take the blond from the Indian but he wasn't allowed. Instead, he was told to go get a piece of cloth to clean his friend.
After Chris was washed and redressed, he began to come around. He smelled the fire and his stomach growled loudly. Vin was right there, handing him a mug of herbal tea. When glaring didn't cause the mug to go away, he drank from it. A moment later, a bowl and spoon passed into his field of vision and he sniffed at it.
"Nice and slow now, you hear me. I don't need you tossin' this back on me," Vin warned as he dipped a small bite of the rabbit stew that had been simmering while they were out gathering the horses.
"Where are we?"
"Indian camp. Settle down here and go back to sleep."
"Vin, what's wrong?" Chris could almost feel the pain and fear coming off of the younger man in sheets. Focusing on his face, he noticed the mottled bruise on Vin's forehead and the line of a scab that had formed where the skin was broken. "You're hurt."
" 'm fine. You just settle down and rest. You lost a lot of blood."
"What happened?"
"Don't worry about me. You need to rest and get stronger," Vin insisted, pulling the blanket up over him and pushing him to lie down. The Indian called to him and pointed toward the tree. The tracker shuddered, but he patted Chris and smiled before rising and following their captor. He knew he had to get away from the Indian but he would have to wait until the blond was stronger.
Ravenwing wasted no time in mounting the longhaired man, reveling in the tense body and muffled cry of pain. There was blood on him from the dowel but it didn't matter as long as it didn't hinder his pleasure. Kicking the captive's feet farther apart, he deeply plundered the bleeding hole.
Soft whimpers of pain danced on the fringes of his awareness and Chris frowned. The herbal tea was sending him deeper into sleep even as he struggled to locate the source of the sounds. He sensed that it was Vin in pain and he desperately wanted to help but was unable to as deep sleep claimed him.
As soon as the Indian pulled out of him, Vin collapsed to the ground, heaving the little bit of water he had swallowed earlier. Ravenwing wound his hand in the long, curly hair and dragged him to his feet, throwing him against the tree and leaning into him. Fumbling with the wooden dowel, he rubbed it in the bloody fluid seeping from the man's ass before shoving it deeply into him and securing it with the straps.
"Perhaps I should give you a rest and take my pleasures with your friend now that he is recovering," he sneered, causing the man to struggle and vehemently deny the idea.
"I agreed to do whatever you wanted! You will not touch him! You gave your word. Unless you wish to throw away your honor and become no better than the pale faces, you will leave him alone!"
With his thigh between the captive's legs, Ravenwing pushed upwards, sending the wooden dowel deeper. He was rewarded with a strangled sob of pain. "Tomorrow we will go on to my village. I will tie your friend to his horse and send it on its way but you will stay as my slave, to use and loan out as I desire."
Vin slumped to the ground and gingerly crawled back to where Chris lay sleeping. Hurting and weary, he collapsed there into the welcoming arms of oblivion. Somehow, the blond sensed that he was there and rolled to his side, curling protectively around the Texan. As the afternoon faded to evening, both men slept on and on.
Back in town, Buck and Nathan had set out looking for their absent friends. Josiah and Ezra had also set out in search. They had gotten a wire about the Indians steeling horses from one of the local towns and were afraid that the pair might have run into trouble if they crossed paths with the horse thieves. Buck found the last campsite the men had shared. Both were deeply disturbed by the sight of Chris's belongings scattered around the area, as well as the bloody rags that some animal had found and chewed on.
"What do you think happened?" Buck asked as he watched Nathan squatting down to study the tracks on the ground.
"A body lay here and bled a lot, see the deep stain? Someone else bled over there. This one is too big to be either Chris or Vin. I'd say that one of them is hurt and went or was forced to go with whoever crossed them. We need to try to find their horses prints."
Buck gathered all of the salvageable items from around the campsite and stuffed them into his saddlebags. They rode on for several hours along the path they thought was their friends' before stopping for the night. Both men sat staring into the fire for a long time before Buck announced that he would take first watch, he couldn't sleep anyway.
Vin awoke and tensed immediately. An arm lay around his waist and a cheek rested against the top of his head. Willing himself to be calm, he realized that it was Chris that had curled around him in his sleep. From the sonorous snoring, he also realized that the Indian was asleep. Stretching his hand out along the ground, he felt a good-sized stone. In a few more minutes, he had the stone dug free of the ground and hefted it in his hand until he was certain he could use it as a weapon. Lifting his head carefully, he looked to see if their captor had tied him in any way. Seeing nothing attached to either of his legs, he rolled to his hands and knees. His head throbbed at the change in position and he swallowed against the urge to vomit. When he had his stomach under control, he came to his feet and crept silently across the campsite. With a strength born of pain and rage, he struck the Indian in the head with the rock. Over and over, he pummeled the downed man until he couldn't raise his hands again. An unreasoning fear gripped him then. What if one of his friends arrived before they got away?
Fear powered his limbs as he saddled both horses and get them ready to go. Without stopping for anything else, he hefted Chris up into the saddle and climbed up behind him. Pain lanced through him and he ignored it as he led Pony away from the camp. As rapidly as was safe for the horses, he headed for town, for their friends.
Nathan stirred the banked coals and added a few pieces of wood for a small fire. He filled the coffee pot and set it in the fire to brew. It was still very early, the sky only just beginning to lighten and the stars were still visible. Buck thrashed in his bedroll, clearly troubled by not finding their friends. He heard what sounded like a horse approaching and immediately kicked dirt over the fire, plunging himself into darkness. Pulling his gun with one hand, he nudged Buck with the other.
An urgent hand roused him from sleep and Buck's eyes sprang open as he reached for his gun. When his eyes adjusted to the faint light, he saw Nathan motioning to him to be quiet. Shifting to a crouch, he stared in the direction the healer had pointed. After a few minutes, he heard a soft nicker. To his horror, his own gray gelding returned the greeting. A moment later, a familiar pair of horses walked into sight.
The fact that the two men were riding double told Nathan that at least one of them was hurt and he wasted no time in holstering his gun and rushing to their aide. Peso tossed his head and pranced cautiously until he recognized the man trying to take hold of his bridle. He immediately settled down, hoping that they would take the extra rider off of him. Buck quickly joined the healer and they reached up to take hold of their friends. Vin resisted, moaning softly as he tried to keep Chris upright in front of him.
"Easy pard, I got him," Buck said softly as his hand pressed on the tracker's lower back. With a whimper of relief, Vin let go of the blond and toppled into the ladies man's arms. Nathan caught Chris and they dragged them both to their campsite. Buck deposited Vin on his bedroll and Nathan positioned the blond gunslinger on his hardly touched blankets. Buck immediately began to build up the fire so they could see just how badly the men were injured.
The tears in his clothes alerted Nathan to the nature of Chris's injuries. As the sun was coming up, he was busily scrubbing the slightly swollen wound in the blond man's thigh. After Buck checked the horses and looked around to make certain they weren't being followed, he sat down beside Vin and began to check him over. Aside from the obvious knot on his head and the tightly bandaged, healing wound on his arm, he could find nothing. But Vin stirred and began to whimper softly. Buck leaned down to hear the raspy whisper. It was difficult to understand and he had to listen for several moments to make sense of what he was hearing.
"Take it out. Please take it out. It hurts. Take it out," Vin begged as he tried to find a position that didn't hurt.
"Take what out? Vin, take what out? Please talk to me, pard," Buck urged gently. He watched in confusion as the younger man fumbled with his pants. Not knowing what else to do, he tried to help. Taking hold of the dark brown pants, he tugged them down carefully, looking for a bullet wound or something puncturing Vin's legs. At first, he was puzzled by the leather cords that were wrapped around the thin hips. Rolling Vin to his side, he saw the end of the dowel extruding from his rectum, dried blood coated the entire area. "Nate!"
The fear in Buck's voice had the healer moving to help. He ground to a halt and stared at what Buck had discovered. Gently, he lit his hand on Vin's hip and nudged him nearly onto his stomach.
"What are you waiting for? Take it out, it's hurting him," Buck demanded.
"I need to know if he's bleeding inside first. I could take that out and he could start bleeding too fast for me to stop it. I know it's hurting him something fierce but I need to check him thoroughly before I do too much. Get the laudanum out of my bag."
Vin whimpered at hearing that the hated thing would not be removed right away. He was even more upset at having to take the laudanum, especially on his empty, irritated stomach. Buck returned and held a spoon for the medicine. Turning his head, he tried to avoid taking the bitter liquid. Nathan firmly held him, forcing him to open his mouth for the trickle of medicine.
After the tracker's body went limp, Nathan directed Buck to lay Vin across his thighs. The big-hearted man wept openly as he watched the healer gently extract the torture devise. In anger, Nathan tossed it directly into the fire. He was relieved to find only a small tear on the outside but he couldn't tell about the internal damage without examining him directly. He knew the carbolic would burn like the fires of hell but it was the only thing he had that wouldn't cause an infection. Scrubbing the blood from his hands, he poured the liquid in his palm and let it flow down his fingers.
"He's gonna feel this so hold on to him," Nathan warned. Vin sobbed and his feet scrabbled against the dirt as he felt the intruding fingers. A second later, he felt the burn of the carbolic and his mouth hung open in a silent scream, the cords of his neck taut as he struggled. Fortunately, his safety release blew and he slumped unconscious a moment later. With the tracker's body relaxed, Nathan was able to check for internal damage or perforations. When he withdrew his fingers, he sighed in relief.
"No damage inside?" Buck asked hopefully.
"Doesn't feel like he's perforated. Any small tears should heal well without any help. He's gonna hurt for a long time but he'll live."
Using all of the water in their canteens, they cleaned Vin up and dressed him in clean pants, Nathan's, before settling him on a bedroll to sleep off the medicine. They debated what to do. Buck could ride for town and bring back a wagon but that would leave Nathan alone with two injured men and no one to watch his back. They debated on making a pair of travois to take them back to town. It would be painful and slow but they would be together.
It took the better part of the morning to build the travois. Buck chopped down the trees and dragged them back to the camp to remove the excess limbs, he didn't want to leave Nathan alone with the others too long. While he was working on lashing the limbs together to make a platform for the injured men to lay on, Vin began to stir. He whimpered and clawed at his stomach until he was able to roll over and throw up. Immediately, Nathan and Buck were there, supporting him and steering him into a more comfortable position. He struggled against their touch, searching for Chris. When he spied his blond friend, he crawled across the campsite until he could lay his hand on Chris's shoulder. He slumped to the ground with a sigh.
"Vin, how do you feel?" Nathan asked.
" 'm fine. How is Chris?" Vin asked in return.
"Did you tend to his wounds?" the healer asked. Seeing the slight nod, he went on, "You did a really good job of cleaning and bandaging them. He'll be fine in no time. Now, the truth, how do you feel?" Nathan asked as he gently touched the tracker on his shoulder.
The floodgates burst open and Vin began to cry. Pain and humiliation flared in his stomach and he blindly reached out. Buck gathered the lean body into his arms and held him without saying a word. He shifted until he could sit against a tree and draped the younger man against his chest, keeping his weight off of his abused behind. The wracking sobs eventually tapered off and Vin just lay in the protective circle of Buck's arms. He felt safe for the first time in three days. He was too ashamed to look his friends in the eye and see the pity they felt for him.
"You okay now, Vin?" Buck asked softly when he felt the younger man start to squirm again. He felt the head tucked into his chest nod and reached out to cup his hand against the stubbled jaw. "You heard Nathan say that you took real good care of Chris, didn't you?" He felt another nod. "It must have been really hard, hurting the way you were." Vin nodded again and shuddered. "You know we don't care about what he did to you."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Buck realized they were taken contrary to the way he meant them. Vin tensed up and tried to push away from the comforting arms. Buck tightened his grip and held the struggling tracker until he stilled in his arms again.
"I didn't mean it that way. I meant that we don't think any less of you because of what he did. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Wasn't you he … he did that to," Vin mumbled. Buck's hands soothed up and down the tracker's back as he felt the shuddering breaths.
"No, it wasn't. And I'll never know how you feel right now but I want you to know that it doesn't change the fact that you're my friend and one of the bravest people I know."
"Vin? Do you think you could keep down some broth?" Nathan asked as he held out a mug.
"No herb tea?"
"Do you really want the tea?" the healer teased back, pleased that Vin even felt like joking. He handed off the cup and watched the first tentative sips swallowed. He smiled at Buck, grateful that the man had known what to say. He checked on Chris, tucking his blanket more closely around the blond. He had gotten him to take another cup of the herbal tea while Vin was sleeping. As soon as Vin finished the broth and rested a little, they would start back to town.
+ + + + + + +
Physically, it was only two weeks until Vin was recovered from his trauma. Mentally, he was in worse shape than when they found him. Nightmares left him wringing wet with sweat and screaming incoherently in Kiowa. When awake, he avoided his friends. It was especially hard on Chris, as he desperately wanted to comfort Vin. All Nathan and Buck had told him was that their captor had abused Vin. They didn't want to take a chance on anyone slipping and saying something. For some reason, Chris merely being in the room with the tracker upset him. It was Ezra who finally decided that enough was enough. He followed Vin on one of his 'little excursions' determined to get answers.
Peso stopped by the small pond and Vin slid to the ground. He looped the reins over the saddle horn and let the horse graze. All morning, he had been feeling steadily worse. The nightmare had been vivid and left him smelling of his own sweat. Peeling off his clothing, he grabbed the lye soap and scrub brush and stepped into the water. Starting at his shoulders, he began to lather with the harsh soap and laid into his skin with the brush. His breathing was so loud and quick that he didn't even notice the other horse approaching.
The southerner silently dismounted and stepped up the path until he could see Vin. Shocked and dismayed, he watched as the young man scrubbed at his obviously raw skin. He knew he had to stop him before he drew blood. Toeing off his boots and dropping his gunbelt, he ran down to the water and called out, trying to talk sense into Vin.
"Vin, stop what you're doing! Vin, listen to me, stop what you're doing, please!" He couldn't understand all of the words he heard and Ezra struggled to piece them together.
" … still feel him … can't stand … off … let him … my fault … let … hurt … not Chris," Vin's words were stilted as he continued to punish himself with the brush. No longer hesitating, the southerner dashed into the water and took hold of the tracker. He managed to get the brush and drop it into the water but not before Vin had scrubbed himself bloody. Pulling gently, Ezra led the trembling man to the grassy shore and steered him to his knees. Whistling softly, he summoned Chaucer. From his saddlebag, he pulled a couple of towels that he kept there for his own ablutions. He draped one over Vin's shoulders and used the other one to dry him off. Grabbing his blanket, he wrapped the lean body warmly. An arm snaked out of the cocoon of blankets to wrap around his shoulder. Ezra slowly edged one arm around Vin and carefully pulled him close, rocking slightly on his knees as he murmured softly into the damp curls.
"It's going to be alright, my friend. I'm here for you."
After a while, Vin slumped against the smaller man, asleep. Ezra sank to the ground and pulled his friend so that his upper body lay across the southerner's thighs. For the next few hours, he sat there, beyond the point where his ass was numb, gently carding through Vin's hair and soothing him in his sleep. The tracker twitched and moaned in his slumber, at times whimpering and tucking his hips as if to protect himself from assault and at other times he growled angrily. Ezra continued to soothe him while trying to figure out what was happening inside of the tortured soul.
Josiah had watched Ezra ride out after Vin. When the pair didn't return after a couple of hours, he saddled his gelding and rode out after them. He had followed the Texan on previous 'retreats' and knew where he went but hadn't intruded on him to know what he did at the pool. The ex-preacher slid from the saddle and coughed softly to announce his presence. The southerner acknowledged the older man and held an index finger over his lips. Vin frowned and started to move and Ezra returned his hand to the blanket covered shoulder. Seeing the fatigue in the set of the gambler's shoulders, Josiah removed the saddle from his horse and placed it behind him padding it with his bedroll. The smile of gratitude told him how much his action was appreciated.
Less than an hour later, Vin awoke. At first, he was a little frightened. A gentle hand ghosted over his head. He recognized the scent of the sandalwood soap the southerner used and knew he was safe for the moment.
"Are you perhaps feeling more rested, Vin?" Ezra asked softly.
Embarrassed, Vin pushed up from the southerner's lap. He kept the blanket pulled snuggly around him as he looked up and realized that Josiah was also there. His clothing, folded neatly, was handed to him and the two men rose and walked away to give him some privacy. With shaking hands, he drew on his clothes and shyly approached his friends.
"Ezra, I … I wanna thank ya … for stayin' … with me."
"It was a rare honor to watch your back while you collected some much needed rest."
"You know you can always talk to us, son," Josiah said as he rested a hand lightly on Vin's shoulder. Feeling the slight flinch, he withdrew the offending appendage. He sighed and went to get his saddle.
"I want you to know that I won't betray your confidence. No one will know what you do here. But I would like to request that you allow someone to accompany you on your 'excursions' from the safety of the town."
"It's just that I can still feel him … on my skin … inside," Vin whispered as his eyes welled up with tears.
"You know that you can always talk to me about whatever you're feeling. I'm willing to listen and not prone to gossip."
A rare, gentle smile graced the tracker's face as he reached out and touched Ezra on the arm. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks."
Chris noticed when the three men returned to town. He watched Vin and saw that he seemed to be moving easier than he had been. Hoping that this signaled a return to a more normal relationship between them, he headed for the saloon after them. Vin was seated with Ezra and Josiah, sharing a plate of enchiladas and a mug of beer each. Pulling out a chair, he sat down and motioned to Inez for a beer. An awkward silence descended on the table. Vin upended his mug and emptied it before coming to his feet and leaving the table.
As he was getting ready for bed that night, Ezra heard a soft knock on his door. He was mildly surprised to see Vin standing outside of his door. One look at the weary set of the tracker's body had him reaching out to draw him into the room. Guiding him to the rocking chair, he waited for some kind of explanation.
"Ezra … I … I was wondering … if … Oh, hell, never mind, I shouldn't have bothered you," Vin said as he made to leave.
"Vin, please don't go. If you want to stay here, that's fine."
"I figured … I could throw down on the floor. I won't be any bother."
"You most certainly will not sleep on the floor. That bed is plenty large enough for two people to lay in repose without … bothering each other."
An almost fearful look came over Vin as his cerulean eyes darted from the bed to the gambler and back again. Ezra moved to the closet and dragged out another quilt. "I can arrange the blankets so that they provide a barrier between us if you prefer."
"That … that would be … alright, I guess."
The two men moved warily around in the room, getting undressed and into the bed. Ezra put out the lantern and they both lay rigidly in the uncomfortable silence. Finally, Vin began to relax and rolled to his side, his breathing deepened and he drifted off to sleep. The southerner shifted slowly until his position matched Vin's. A few hours later, when the tracker jerked violently in his sleep, Ezra reached out and rested his arm across the blankets so his hand lay on Vin's bicep, for the rest of the night, he had only to gently squeeze to calm the thrashing.
Vin awakened at daylight but lay still, like a rabbit watching a fox. He felt guilty at having come to Ezra but he was so very tired. He spent a good portion of each day in fear that a bounty hunter or some other person he had crossed would get the drop on him because he was simply too bone weary to notice. He trusted the southerner not to tell anyone that he needed someone so he could sleep. Nathan had repeatedly offered him a sleep draught to help him but he didn't want it. Alcohol might have brought him oblivion, but it left him vulnerable.
"Are you planning to get up or are you going to rest a while longer?" Ezra asked softly.
"Did I wake you?"
"No, but I felt the tension in you when you awoke."
"Sorry," Vin said as he started to throw off the blankets.
"Vin, look at me." Ezra waited for the Texan to turn over and get comfortable. "You are welcome to rest here as long as you need to. You are not imposing on me. I'm really honored that you trusted me enough to come to me in your tribulations. You needn't run off because you're uneasy about this. I hope that eventually you'll come to grips with what happened to you. If you wish to discuss it, I am always available to you."
For several moments, Vin said nothing, then he smiled and his eyes drifted shut. He slept for several more hours, until Ezra got up to get dressed for his patrol round. Vin shifted onto his back and watched as the gambler adjusted his clothes and tied on a ribbon tie. It amazed him that the man took so much time with his haberdashery. A smile graced his lips as he rolled the word around on his tongue, he had heard the southerner use it. When Ezra turned, he looked puzzled at the smile.
"Something amuses you, perhaps?"
"No, sorry, I didn't mean to stare."
"No offense taken, my friend. I do hope you are feeling more rested. You look more refreshed." Ezra said as he picked up his hat and brushed his hands around the brim.
"Thanks Ezra. I'll be dressed and out of here shortly," Vin said as he threw off the blankets.
"Take your time. I'll see you this evening."
For the next few days, Vin seemed to tolerate Chris's presence. He was wary and uneasy, but he didn't bolt away from the blond. Deep inside the tracker, however, a rage was building. He had no control over it. One afternoon, as he sat on the boardwalk, he drifted into a light sleep. As had so often recently, his mind returned to the days the Indian had held them captive. He could hear the man asking him the question, 'will you do whatever I want?'
"No … just let me help him … please," Vin whispered as he ground his jaw against his shoulder. Chris was coming out of the saloon and heard the terrified whisper. Stopping, he reached out and grasped the tracker by the arm, shaking him lightly to wake him.
Coming awake, Vin looked up into the face of the man who was the reason for his assault. Lurching away, he toppled over in his chair and landed on the boardwalk, his eyes wide with fear. Chris innocently reached out and offered to help him up. To his surprise, the hand was slapped away with an angry snarl. Vin pushed up to his feet, his back pressed tightly to the wall of the saloon as he backed away.
"Vin, what is it? What's wrong?"
"It's your fault! He did it because of you!" Vin yelled before turning and running. He paused at the hitching post long enough to release the reins of the nearest horse before vaulting onto its back and riding away. A half hour later, the horse would return to town, alone.
"What happened? Was that Vin?" Nathan asked as he came out of the Potter's store.
"Yeah, I don't know what happened. I woke him from a bad dream and he took off."
Notifying JD of the situation, the remaining four regulators rode out in search of the tracker. They rode and called his name, they searched every place they could think of. Josiah rode out to the small lake and searched for the young man there. By dark, they had returned, disappointed and worried.
Ezra had ridden in from his patrol and heard the news. He had joined the search and failed as well. He was one of the last to return to town. Eating only from habit, he downed a couple of shots of strong whiskey before going to his room to rest, determined to be up at daylight to search for Vin. As soon as he opened his door, he knew something was different. A cool breeze ghosted under the curtains, billowing them out as the open door gave it escape. Closing the door, he reached for the lamp and struck a wooden match. What he saw in the faint circle of light wrung his heart. Vin was huddled in the corner, trembling in the throes of a nightmare.
"Vin, are you alright? Wake up now. Please, Vin." The blue eyes opened and the taut body recoiled in fear. "Calm down, you're safe here. Calm down."
Gradually, Vin was persuaded to get up from the floor and sit in the chair. Ezra noted the bloody spots on his shirt and the blood dried under his nails. He poured water from the pitcher on his washstand into the basin and dropped his washcloth in to become wet. Opening the drawer, he selected his most mild bar of soap and clean towels. Returning to Vin, he eased him out of his hide coat and carefully unbuttoned his shirt. Flinching, he studied the deep scratches and raw spots where he had attacked his skin with a scrub brush. Gently removing the shirt, he wrung out the cloth and began cleaning the bloody welts. When he finished, he got one of his nightshirts and slipped it on the younger man and coaxed him out of his tan pants. There were gouges on his thighs but, thankfully, he didn't appear to have clawed at his groin. When Vin was washed, Ezra tucked him into bed and sat on the edge until he was soundly asleep. Silently, he slipped out and made his way down to Miss Bonnie's room because he knew Buck was there. After telling the ladies man that he'd found Vin, he returned to his room and crawled into bed beside him.
At first light, Chris, Nathan, JD and Josiah were gathered at a table in the restaurant eating breakfast. As soon as they finished, they were determined to head out to search for Vin. JD finished his food and sat back waiting for the others to finish.
"JD, go see if you can wrestle Buck out of bed and have him wake Ezra. I want every able body out looking for Vin until he's found," Chris ordered. Before the young man could rise from his chair, Buck came in and scanned the room for them. He smiled warmly as he crossed the dining room.
"You can call off your search, Vin's fine."
"You saw him? Where is he?" Chris asked as he shoved his chair back and prepared to go see his friend.
"Ezra's got him. He found him last …" Before Buck could finish his thought, the other four were up and out the door, running across the dusty road toward the saloon.
The thundering footfalls woke Ezra but he was used to tuning them out. Vin shuddered slightly in his sleep and mumbled fitfully. A gentle touch calmed him and he nuzzled into the pillow again. Before Ezra could return to sleep, his door burst open. He reached for the gun he kept in the hollow between the headboard and the mattress. He leaned over Vin and thumbed back the hammer even as he recognized the astonished faces of his friends.
"Ez? What?" Vin said as he felt the southerner's weight pressing into him.
"What in the name of Sam Hell is going on in here?" Chris snarled. "What are you doing … in his bed … in his clothes?"
For the first time, Vin realized he was indeed wearing one of the southerner's nightshirts. Even as he felt the blush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, he felt the rage flare again. Clenching his fists, he struggled to be free of Ezra's arm and tried to get out of the bed. He staggered, his legs unused to the length of the sleep shirt, and Chris caught him.
"Don't touch me!" Vin hissed. Surprise lit in the hazel eyes as the blond released his friend.
"Vin … I was just … worried about you. Since the day that Indian attacked … you've been … distant. You always trusted me before, with everything."
"I saved your life, isn't that enough?"
"I know you did. Nathan told me how you were practically unconscious in the saddle but you tried to fight to keep him from taking me from you."
"And I let him do that to me so he'd let me tend to your wounds. I kept him from killing you!"
As Vin shouted, the others crowded closer in the small room. Buck and Nathan knew what had been done to the tracker and Ezra suspected but the other three remained ignorant. The blond struggled with the thoughts that whirled in his mind. The last thing he remembered clearly was the bullet that sent him into the dirt. The rest of the next few days was a blur of fire and pain. He had only brief periods of memory of the long, painful journey home, of Vin's frightened cries.
"Let him do what to you?" Chris asked, perplexed. Nathan and Buck pushed forward, to try to stop what was coming.
"I let him rape me! Let him put that thing inside of me! For you! So he wouldn't put a bullet in you and leave your body for the animals!" Vin yelled as he backed into the farthest corner from the blond.
The color drained out of Chris's face and he stepped back as if sucker punched. It was as if he couldn't draw enough air into his lungs. He clawed at his shirt for a moment before Buck pushed him into the rocker and drew his head between his knees, encouraging him to breathe slowly. Ezra, meanwhile, slipped out of bed and pulled Vin to sit on the end of the bed.
"He showed up here some time yesterday. I only found him when I came up for bed. Nathan, he's covered in scratches. I washed them last night but you should have a look," Ezra explained.
Josiah, seeing that JD's mouth hung open in stunned confusion, pulled the young sheriff toward the door. Once on the landing, he steered the young man down to the bar. He motioned for the bartender to set up a shot for him. When he had downed the amber liquid, JD shuddered all over.
"Did he say …?"
"Yes, and you need not repeat it. Vin is very upset right now. If you have any questions, please ask Nathan or Buck, don't ask Vin. Understand?" Seeing JD nod, Josiah steered him out of the saloon and down to the jail.
In Ezra's room, Nathan gently peeled off the nightshirt. Vin curled in on himself until the healer drew a quilt up around his shoulders. He ran his fingers lightly over the scabs, checking for infection. Finding none, he nodded to the southerner.
"Buck, would you mind getting some clean clothes for Vin from his wagon?" Nathan asked. When the azure blue eyes looked at him questioningly, he nodded, agreeing that he could control things for the moment. The ladies man stood, giving Chris's shoulder a firm squeeze, and left the room.
"You let him … rape you … because of me?" Chris asked softly. Ezra moved to sit beside Vin and offered his strength as he saw the tears pool in the pale blue eyes.
"It was the only way. He woulda killed you," Vin mumbled. Chris slipped from the rocker and across the room, kneeling in front of the tracker. He saw the tensing of his shoulders and resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.
"You should have let me die."
A startled gasp filled Vin's lungs as he stared in disbelief at the blond man. As his vision blurred with even more tears, he shook his head in denial. Chris nodded his head, contradicting Vin.
"My life isn't worth what this has done to you. You should have let him kill me."
Vin slipped from the edge of the mattress and into Chris's arms as he sobbed. Buck froze in the doorway at the sight and Nathan motioned for him to leave the clothing and go away. Ezra silently pulled on his own clothing before bringing the clean clothes to the foot of the bed. When Vin had settled some, they coaxed him into his clothes and set him on the edge of the bed again. Chris drew the rocking chair around and sat in it so he could see Vin's face.
"I'm sorry he hurt you because of me."
" 'm fine," Vin insisted.
"Except that you don't sleep and scrub yourself until you bleed," Ezra offered softly. A betrayed glare speared him and he smiled. "You'll forgive me for sharing the truth. I didn't gossip." The gambler tipped his hat and slipped from the room.
"Can I leave the two of you alone while I go get something for those scratches?" Nathan asked.
"Go ahead, we'll be fine here together," Chris assured him.
Left alone together, the friends looked at each other shyly. Chris could see the pain shining vividly in Vin's eyes and he could feel it in his soul. His shoulder and thigh throbbed in memory of the injuries he had suffered but it was nothing in comparison to what Vin had gone through.
"Why did you come here? Why Ezra and not one of the others? Buck knew what happened to you, why didn't you go to him?" Chris knew that his oldest friend would have told him what was bothering the tracker, Ezra had kept it to himself.
"Because he came looking for me. He didn't ask any questions. I didn't want you to know because I was so mad at you."
"I'm sorry. I wish it had been me instead."
"No you don't. He woulda hurt you worse. It was only because I spoke his language that he didn't hurt me worse."
"Because you speak Kiowa?"
"Because I had been among the people. I held him to his word."
A huge yawn burst out of Vin's mouth and he stretched like a cat. Nathan knocked on the door before coming in with his supplies. After he had cleaned the scratches, Chris suggested that the two of them have something to eat.
"I thought you just came from breakfast?" Vin asked.
"How'd you know?"
"Smelled the maple syrup on ya," the Texan answered with a grin.
Things evened out after that. Having admitted what happened to Chris, Vin was able to finally let go of the rage that had been eating at him. Knowing what had happened had given Chris a new appreciation for his young friend. It also made him realize something else, he cared for Vin in a way that was stronger than he had cared for anyone since Sarah and Adam.
Weeks passed and things gradually resumed a normal pace. Vin and Chris recovered from their injuries and returned to normal patrols. Judge Travis wired that he needed a package picked up in Greeley and Chris invited Vin to accompany him. A specter of the attack hung over the pair as they rode out the first day. When they reached the other town, they decided to stay the night and treat themselves to a fancy meal at the new restaurant that had opened there. While walking along the boardwalk, Chris spotted a new chambray shirt in the store window that was just the color of Vin's eyes. He smiled at the thought that crossed his mind as he slipped inside the store. In the bathhouse, he quietly substituted the new shirt for Vin's and slipped into his tub.
"Where'd this come from?" Vin asked as he picked up the shirt.
Chris peered out from behind the curtain and smiled. The shirt looked even better on him than he'd imagined. An urge to reach out and run his hand across the muscled back bloomed and he curled his fingers to stop himself.
Over supper, the blond couldn't help noticing the way Vin looked in the shirt with his hair hanging loose and curly against his shoulders. That crooked grin that lifted one cheek and crinkled the corners of his eyes was especially attractive.
"It's warm in here tonight," Chris mumbled as he drained his iced tea.
"I hadn't noticed," Vin answered with a sly grin.
They reached their room and Chris hurried to open the windows. A stiff breeze stirred the air and the curtains billowed out. The blond leaned heavily on the sill, trying to regain control of his emotions. He wanted, more than anything else, to run his fingers through Vin's hair and kiss him on his full lips. A hand lit on the small of his back. He stood abruptly and turned to face the tracker.
He found himself with an armful of Tanner. Vin pressed him against the wall and let his tongue caress the blond man's lips. Chris moaned softly as he opened his mouth to the gentle onslaught. Vin pressed up against him, grinding his pelvis against the hard hipbone.
"Are you sure about this, Cowboy?" Chris had grilled Nathan until he told what else had been done to his young friend.
"Just take it easy this first time, okay?" Vin mumbled without actually lifting his mouth from Chris. His hands were already greedily undoing the buttons on the gunslinger's shirt. He had half of them open when he pushed his hands into the opening and wrapped his long, slender fingers around Chris's ribs.
Undressed, they tumbled into the bed nearest the window so they could feel the breeze blowing across their heated flesh. Chris slid down until he could take Vin in his mouth. He held him lightly to prevent him from thrusting. Vin's legs wrapped around Chris's torso, writhing as much as he was allowed. He came explosively, his hands fisted into the bedspread as he groaned his pleasure. Chris had pulled away, allowing the fluid to trickle down into the crack where he would soon be putting his fingers.
Chris was patient as he prepared Vin for their lovemaking. As much as he wanted to do it spooned behind the tracker, he knew Vin needed to see him. They moved to the foot of the bed so that Chris had the freedom to move without putting his weight on his young love. He used all the pillows from both beds to support Vin's hips and back. As he slowly entered the tight opening, he used both hands to touch and stroke Vin's stomach and thighs to calm him.
Later, as they lay snuggled together, Vin whispered something softly in Kiowa. It would be years before Chris would find out that it meant, 'I would give my life for your love.'
End