by Kaed

Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Magnificent Seven, its characters or premise. I make no money from writing this fiction, and mean no infringement on the rights of MGM, Trilogy, Mirisch, CBS or TNN.

Warnings: Despite what it looks like, this is not a deathfic. It is, however, a story set in the Slash ATF AU. While there is no explicit sex, there are indications of a committed m/m relationship.

Notes: I keep saying I don't do deathfic. I don't read it and have never killed off any of the boys. However, a few days ago this plot bunny took hold of me, and chased off every other plot bunny I had going. I finally realized that the only way to get it to go away, was to write it.

Webmaster's Note: This story was previously hosted at another website, and was moved to blackraptor in April 2007.

Death.

Dying.

Chris Larabee rolled the words around his mind over and over again. Words that had pertained to his past and now pertained to the present. Pertained to his present.

Pertained to Vin.

Vin Tanner. Death. Vin was dying. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

His partner, soul-mate and lover had been so seriously injured that there was nothing the doctors and all of their modern medical miracles could do to keep him among the living. Two many injuries, too many damaged organs, too little luck this time.

They had tried, those warriors in white who fought off death. They kept him unconscious for days, trying to give his body a chance to heal. Surgery after emergency surgery, pint after pint of blood, procedure after procedure, all to no avail.

He vaguely recalled being given the news, Buck holding him on one side and Josiah on the other as he crumpled toward the floor. He remembered hearing a keening wail filling the room, barely recognizing it as coming from his own constricted throat.

After pulling himself together he had insisted on being the one to speak to Vin. He hadn't had to say anything, really. As he always did, Tanner understood what he struggled to say before he managed to stumble through the first sentence. They had cried together then, Chris carefully wrapping his arms around the fragile body. They had cursed fate, time and again declared their love for one another and, finally, resigned themselves to what was happening.

And they had decided that Vin would take his final breath at home.

The doctor had cautioned against it, but couldn't offer them any hope that remaining in the sterile hospital would give them any more time together. In the end, Vin had the final say. Blue eyes shining with fear, pain, sadness and love, he looked into the older man's face and said, "take me home."

Ignoring the curious looks and shocked stares, Larabee had wrapped Vin in his handmade quilt, and carried him from the hospital and out to the waiting vehicle. They had settled into the back seat of Nathan's 'wagon, Chris cradling the younger man in his arms. He couldn't bear to move out of physical contact with his partner and, for once, couldn't care less what anyone thought about his public display of affection toward his lover.

They had taken Vin home, Chris carrying his frail cargo into the big, rambling house. Sensing his lover's exhaustion, he carried him to the bedroom they had shared for over a year and settled him, still wrapped in Nettie's quilt, in the big bed they had spent so many hours in. Hours of love-making, sometimes wild and exciting, sometimes sweet and slow, but always fulfilling. Hours that would live forever in his memory, but would never again be in his life.

The other five men had not asked permission, or been asked to stay. They simply moved in for the time being. They camped out in the big den, out of the way but close enough that both Vin and Chris could feel their strength. And, as if the bond the lovers shared had enveloped the entire group, they were there in so many ways for the men. For each time Larabee began to feel he couldn't go on, one or another of the men would be there. They would sit beside Chris as he watched Vin sleep, keep him company while he held his dying lover, and held him while he cried.

Tears seemed to flow as freely through the big house as laughter had once. Each of the men had witnessed them coursing down their boss and friend's face; had dried them from Vin's pale features during those rare moments that found Chris away from the failing man's side, or sleeping on the other side of the big bed. And each of them had shed their share of tears as well.

Chris Larabee knew that, for the rest of his life, he would never forget the moment he had watched his friends from the doorway of the big den. Stepping away from a sleeping Tanner's side for a moment, he sought the solace of his friends. He witnessed, instead, their finding solace in the comfort of their fellow agents. While Nathan held a crying Ezra, JD rocked a sobbing Buck. In their midst, tears marking trails down his broad face, Josiah recited scripture in his deep, soothing, if trembling, voice. Each of them wept openly and unashamed as they struggled to come to terms with the impending loss.

Shedding tears of both sorrow and love, Chris moved silently away from the doorway.

Hours and then days passed, the men sitting vigil together over their friend. Each hour saw Vin losing a little more ground. Upon coming home he had been able to sit, wrapped in Chris' arms, and talk to them. Slowly he grew too weak to sit for more than the few minutes it took them to help him take a little food or water. His voice faded to a faint whisper and then disappeared. His breathing grew more and more painful to hear, each wheeze a reminder of what was happening.

And then, in the depths of the night, Chris had sensed the change. He knew, without question, that the end was fast approaching. He went to the den, waking Josiah, then hurried back to his bedroom. The big man woke the others, and they filed into the room. One at a time, they each said their good-byes to their friend and colleague. Buck and JD managed weak smiles as they spoke of the practical jokes that had offered them hours of enjoyment. Nathan and Josiah spoke soothing words meant to ease the young man's passing. Ezra, his conman's mask crumbling away this time, sobbed openly as he spoke to Vin of the things they had shared during the months since they had met. Then, before moving away from his friend, Standish leaned down and kissed a too-cool cheek.

Each man offered one thing to their failing friend. Each looked into their teammate's face and swore they would look after his partner for him. The Texan could rest with the knowledge that he wasn't leaving the blond to face the future alone. Their good-byes said, the five men filed out, knowing that the final leg of Vin's journey could only be traveled with his lover.

Watching the men shuffle and stumble away, Josiah closing the door behind them, Chris silently thanked them before turning back to his partner. He knelt beside the bed, gently stroking back the chestnut curls as he watched the translucent features in the soft bedroom light. Blue eyes fluttered open to look into his hazel ones. He tried to remember how to smile, not wanting his heart-mate's last memory of him to be a sad one.

Vin saw through it, though, seeing what he felt reflected in his lover's face. His big eyes flashed wide, fear bright in the soul-filled depths, then stilled as he reconciled himself to the inevitable. He drew a shuddering breath, then managed a weak smile as he lifted a trembling hand toward the older man.

Larabee took the offered hand, lifting it to his lips and planting a gentle kiss across each knuckle. Then he tucked Vin's arm back beneath the quilt and wrapped his partner in the comforting depths of Nettie's gift. Carefully he lifted the fragile body into his arms and carried the younger man across the room. Settling in the big rocking chair, he shifted Tanner enough to allow the first rays of the morning sun to fall on the pale face.

Tenderly stroking the tangled mop of loose curls back, the team leader spoke quietly to his lover. "I was thinking about the first time I held you. I expected you to be... I don't know... as scared as I was, I think. But you just slipped up against me with that cocky assed grin, like we held one another every day."

Vin managed another weak smile, drew his hand out of the blankets once more, and reached for his lover. Chris took the trembling hand, holding it against his heart this time. He looked into his lover's face and saw the blue eyes darkening and growing unfocused. It wouldn't be long now.

"And the first time we made love," he continued. "I never knew that anything could be that exciting and loving and erotic at the same time, but it was. That time and every time after. It was amazing."

Tanner managed a final glimmer of a smile, his eyes fluttering closed.

A sense of urgency growing in his soul, Chris began to talk faster. "I love you Vin... with every fiber of my being. And that's never going to change. You are my best friend, my lover, and the other half of my soul. I will love you until... until th-the day I join... join you."

The big blue eyes, now dull and darkened, slid open one final time, and he locked eyes with the man cradling him. Unable to form the words, he nevertheless managed to convey his feelings to the other man. Then they widened, fearful as he struggled to draw another breath. His grip tightened in Larabee's, and he pressed himself against the broad chest.

Chris begged silently for his lover to stay a little longer, although he knew it wasn't to be. He held Tanner's hand tight to his heart as he watched the dying man take a breath, release it, take a second and release it, take a third, release it.

And then nothing.

Lifting the limp man, he held Vin closer, sobbing as he rocked the stilled body. They would come soon, entering the room to offer their condolences and support. Their friends would know, would be there, just as they always were,

But for now, there would be only the two of them.

"I love you, Vin Tanner," Chris whispered through heart-broken sobs. "I love you."

+ + + + + + +

Larabee's eyes fluttered open, tears clinging to his lashes. He gasped, trying to catch his breath and calm his heartbeat. He focused his vision and barely stifled a cry at what he saw beside him.

"Vin." He sighed, collapsing against the tear-soaked pillow, staring in awe at the beautiful vision of his lover, lying beside him, breathing soft and slow. Alive. It had all be a horrible nightmare, and his partner was laying, warm and safe, beside him.

Chris took a few, relieved, breaths and finally calmed down. Sliding up to lean on one elbow, he slipped the covers back, surveying the slender, well-toned body. His hand lightly traced the stark white patch of gauze on one wide shoulder. It was the reason for his nightmare, the relatively minor injury triggering all the fears he held in check. That slight wound, little more than a graze from a gunman's bullet, had sent his subconscious mind into overload, causing him to experience in his sleep all the nightmares he denied while he was awake.

Gently he stroked a hand down the finely chiseled features, smiling as his touch caused Vin to sigh and murmur softly in his sleep. He leaned forward and kissed the other man's forehead, once more stroking the square jaw as the younger man stirred. "Sh. It's okay."

"Chris?"

Smiling as sleepy blue eyes opened to look up at him, he said, "sorry, didn't mean to wake you. I was just... I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"'M fine... s'jist a scratch," the sharpshooter muttered.

Feeling his face burn with embarrassment, the blond said, "I know... I just... well, I - "

Pressing his fingers to his partner's lips, Tanner repeated, "'m okay."

Nodding, the older man said, "I know."

Vin smiled, knowing that the other man might know, but hadn't yet felt in his heart that he was all right. Reaching out, the Texan coaxed the blond down next to him, letting him settle in beside him. Chris' head nestled against his shoulder, and he felt the touch of warm tears on his flesh.

Tanner understood; knew the dreams Larabee had suffered during the night. It was easy to understand. He had them himself, each time the senior agent was injured. It was one of the hazards of the job.

And a hazard of being in love.

The End

Feedback: As always, welcome.