Descent into Darkness

by Kathy B

Vin sat outside the jail, scanning the street and taking in the ordinary quiet of the bright May afternoon. The dry heat was already making him a bit sleepy. He looked down near his feet, watching a small lizard crawling across the boardwalk to the dusty street until it disappeared from view.

"Excuse me."

Vin looked up, startled. A petite blonde woman stood nearby, smiling at him. She was holding a small, dusty carpetbag with a bent clasp. A beaded handbag dangled from her wrist. He quickly got to his feet.

"Ma'am."

She set down the bag and pointed across the street. "I just got off that stage over there, and I was wondering if you could point out the constable?"

Vin adjusted his jacket a little. She was pretty and, for some reason, it made him just a bit fidgety. "I guess that'd be me."

"Oh," she said in mild surprise.

"Well, the town ain't got no real--," he said, feeling a bit flustered under her intense green eyes. "Uh, Vin Tanner's the name. How can I help you?"

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Tanner." Her voice was soft and her smile widened as she moved closer to him. "I'm called Priscilla. My father died recently in this town and he left a considerable amount of money in the bank."

She was near enough now that Vin could distinctly smell the scent of flowers in her hair. It was a heady smell that made him slightly dizzy.

"Your father? Asa Moore? You're his daughter?"

"You sound surprised," she arched an eyebrow, touching his arm. Vin glanced down at the gloved hand near his elbow. He didn't see many ladies in this town wear gloves. Or even hats, like this woman was wearing.

He shrugged. "Just didn't know ol' Asa had any kin. Or any money."

"Well, that's why I'm here. May I call you 'Vin'?" Her warm breath tickled his ear as she continued. "You see, it's quite a lot of money. I'm sure you know how frugal he was."

Vin nodded, smiling.

"And, well, I just wouldn't feel safe carrying it on my person in a strange town." She squeezed his arm, as she looked intently into his eyes. "Would you be so kind as to escort me when I get the money and see me off safely on the next stage?"

Vin found himself staring transfixed at the pout of her lips. He glanced around, and caught JD's eye across the street, then looked back at Priscilla. JD could keep an eye on things.

"Yes, ma'am. Be my pleasure."

"You're certain? I'm sure you have a lot to do. And I know how important you must be to the people of this town--"

"No, ma'am, don't mind at all. But you'd best hurry," he said, as he picked up her bag and started to lead her toward the bank. "Got a new bank manager and he likes to close up prompt-like."

"Why, thank you...Vin."

+ + + + + + +

Vin was right. The bank manager was just getting ready to close and lock the door to the bank. He barely looked up at the two as he withdrew a large ring of keys from his pocket and began to pull the door shut.

"Go 'way. We're closed."

Vin caught the door in his hand, holding it open. "Mr. Williams, I know you like to close up on time, but maybe you could help this little lady out? Her father has an account here."

Williams looked at him, peered at her over his glasses, and went back to fiddling with the keys. "I close promptly on time. Open on time. Close on time. I haven't been here long, but you should know that by now, Constable."

"I ain't a--" Vin sighed in exasperation. "Look, her father just died and she's just passin' through. She needs t' close his account. Can't ya just help her out?"

Williams started to respond when a choked sob from Priscilla stopped him. Vin awkwardly put an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder lightly as he gazed steadily at the bank manager. Williams waved a hand impatiently.

"Oh, all right! All right. But make it quick. I was just about to lock the vault."

The woman smiled as she and Vin edged past him and slipped into the empty bank. Williams looked at Vin sharply, catching his arm.

"Don't you go blabbing to people that I did this, you understand me?"

Vin nodded and set down the bag. "Obliged."

"Now, madam, how can I help you?"

"You can start by closing your mouth and opening your vault," she said coldly, pulling a gun from her reticule. She quickly turned to Vin. "Not so fast, handsome. I'd hate to disappoint your lady friend by ruinin' them looks of yours, but I will if you make me. Gun on the floor, and kick it over here." She turned back to Williams. "You. Just toss the keys--and the money--on the floor, right out here."

Williams began hastily pulling stacks of bills from the vault and threw the money into a pile on the floor between them. He looked furiously at Vin. "Very nice. I suppose you two are friends?"

Vin looked at her, his blue eyes like hardened steel. "Never seen 'er before in my life."

Williams snorted and continued his work.

"That's enough." She gestured toward the vault. "Now, get inside and sit on the floor. Hurry up!"

Vin sighed as he and Williams followed her orders. Priscilla smiled.

"Thanks, boys. You've been very accommodating to a grieving daughter." She turned to Vin. "What did you say the old coot's name was?"

"Asa," he replied tonelessly. "Asa Moore."

"Right," she said with a shrug.

The vault door swung closed on silent, well-oiled hinges, the tumblers turned, and Vin found himself and the bank manager sitting in the dark.

"This is all your fault, Tanner! You helped her! And don't think I won't do something about it! Hiring a bunch of gunfighters--criminals--to protect a town full of decent, innocent people! That Judge and his crazy notions--"

"Looks like we could be here awhile," said Vin in a dangerously low voice, "so why don't you just save it?"

Williams sat there, silently fuming. Vin took off his hat, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. Sooner or later someone would let them out. He was sure hoping it'd be sooner. He didn't want to think about the lovely Priscilla--if that was even her name--at least not until he got out of here and could wring her pretty little neck.

+ + + + + + +

The darkened town was quiet. Most folks had gone to bed and the saloon was starting to close down for the night.

"Guess that's it," said Buck, tossing his cards onto the table.

Josiah shook his head and did the same. Nathan picked up his winnings with a smile.

"Thanks, Ezra."

Ezra shrugged good-naturedly. "You won, fair and square."

Nathan arched an eyebrow but smiled wider, as he pocketed his winnings.

Chris walked in, glanced around the room for a moment, then came directly to the table. "Anyone seen Vin tonight?"

JD looked up. "I did. But...but that was hours ago. He was with some woman."

Buck tipped his hat back and looked at him with interest. "A woman? You sure it was a woman?"

"I know what a woman looks like, Buck." He turned his attention back to Chris. "Never seen her before. He talked to her and last I saw him, they were standing in front of the bank."

"The bank?"

Without a word, the others got up and followed as Chris left the saloon in long, quick strides.

+ + + + + + +

The street was nearly deserted and the bank was dark.

JD tried the doorknob and pushed open the unlocked door.

"Chris," he said in an urgent whisper.

Everyone drew their guns. Chris, moving quietly and slowly, led them into the bank. Everything still seemed to be quiet, almost normal, were it not for the unlocked door. Buck struck a match and lit one of the lamps on the wall. The warm glow of the lamp began to fill the room, and what they saw increased their concern for their missing friend.

"This is not a good sign," said Ezra, his boot nudging a few loose bills that lay scattered on the floor.

"Boys?" Josiah crouched for a moment, then straightened. He was holding Vin's gun.

Buck looked at it. "But where is he? Money's on the floor, but the vault's closed." He scanned the room, then nodded toward the vault. "You don't suppose he's--"

"Ezra?" asked Chris.

"Gentleman," said Ezra, "step aside and let a master practice his art." He moved past the others and went to work on the vault lock. For a moment, he paused, looked up and smiled, his gold tooth glinting in the lamplight. "I've always dreamed of doing this. But somehow, doing it legally takes some of the fun out of it."

+ + + + + + +

Vin looked up, listening to the tumblers turn. Had 'Priscilla' come back? But then, why would she? Maybe she had decided to kill her only witnesses. He got up slowly. He could hear Williams stir nearby.

"Quiet," he said in as low a voice as he could manage and still be heard. He edged close to the vault door, groping around for something to use as a weapon. To his chagrin, nothing was handy. He waited, not realizing he was holding his breath, as the door slowly opened and Vin had to squint as the light began to filter in from a lamp.

"Mr. Tanner?"

Vin felt his stomach tighten and his face burning. Ezra's voice held a note of amusement mixed in with the incredulity.

"He all right?"

Great. Chris's voice.

"Looks like it," Buck observed, smiling.

Ezra grinned, too. "Are you gentlemen coming out of there or are you that comfortable?"

Williams shoved past Vin. "Mr. Larabee! I want him arrested!" Trembling with rage, he pointed a shaking finger at Vin.

"Arrested," Chris echoed with surprise. "For what?"

Vin looked at the floor, wishing it would just open up and swallow him right then and there.

"Why, for--for--for aiding a felony! He helped that woman rob the bank!"

Buck moved to stand beside Vin. "Was she pretty at least?"

"Shut up, Buck." He could feel the hear of his anger rising with the heat in his cheeks.

Chris turned his attention to Williams. "Look, why don't you figure out how much money she got and then describe her for us?"

"I don't know how much--" he sputtered. "And what would be the good of that? She's long gone by now! And HE helped her! I want him arrested!"

Chris regarded him calmly. "Mr. Williams, you were both in that vault. Looks to me like you both helped her."

Williams' jaw dropped. "Are you suggesting--?"

"I'm suggesting that you figure out what's missing. Vin'll give us a description since he seems to have gotten the best look at her--" Vin flushed hotly at that "--and we'll do what we can to catch her."

Willams was not pleased as he closed and locked the vault. "Fine! I'll have it sent over to the jail house in the morning." He followed them to the door and began to lock up. With one last look at Vin, he sneered, "Gunslingers. Pah!"

+ + + + + + +

The seven stood outside the bank after Williams had gone.

"Any suggestions, gentlemen, as to our next course of action?" Ezra looked at them in turn. "Because if not, I'd suggest we call it a night."

"For once, I agree with Ezra," said Josiah. "Ain't nothin' we can do till it's light out."

Chris nodded. "Then we meet at the jail in the mornin'." He looked at Vin. "ALL of us. We're gonna need your description of her."

Buck smiled. "You DO remember what she looks like, right?" Vin's hands clenched into fists as his sides as he took a step towards the ladies man. "Whoa, stud, I still wanna know if she's pretty."

Ezra joined in. "Indeed, perhaps I'd have even carried the lady's loot for her!"

Vin could hear them holding back snickers and he turned on them, his anger held in check by a thin layer of restraint. He grabbed the front of Buck's shirt in his fist, his jaw set dangerously. Josiah pulled him back as Nathan quickly intervened.

"Calm down, Vin. And Buck, Ezra, you stop that. Why don't you go to bed?"

Buck straightened his shirt indignantly. "Man can't take a little joke. Maybe I will, Nathan. Find myself a nice lady friend..."

"Best check 'er for guns first, though," added JD with an amused glance at Vin.

Vin lunged but Nathan and Josiah caught him.

"That's enough," Chris said sharply. "Be at the jail house in the morning. Everybody. Got that, Vin?"

Vin's stormy eyes bore into him, a muscle flexing in his jaw. "Yeah."

+ + + + + + +

"Where the hell is Vin? And Ezra?"

It was the third time Buck had asked that question and there was still no answer. The five remaining protectors had been waiting at the jailhouse for over an hour and either had yet to show.

At that moment, five heads turned as the door opened and Ezra walked in.

"'Bout time," said Buck.

"Well, and a good morning to you, too. And it is still morning, so I am not late."

"You seen Vin?"

"Briefly, yes. I don't think he'll be forthcoming. He didn't appear to have slept well during the night. In fact, he didn't look like he'd slept at all."

Chris looked thoughtful as he sat on the desk. "He say anything?"

"Just muttered something about going some place to think. Or maybe it was drink. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hand and he wasn't making a lot of sense."

Chris sighed. "I'd better go after 'im."

Ezra put up a hand. "He didn't say where he was going."

Chris looked at them a moment and turned to go. "Buck, you handle things here. I know where to find 'im."

+ + + + + + +

Chris stopped to look out over the small valley outside of town. Far off, high on a hill, he could make out a seated figure. One side had a craggy, cliff-like face that overlooked the valley. He knew that spot. Knew Vin would be there. They'd been there before; the first time was when Vin told him about the bounty on his head. He'd figured Vin would come here. He'd often done the same thing himself.

He rode as close as he could, then dismounted and began to climb. The hillside was slippery from moss and dew, as Chris continued slowly and carefully up the side, toward Vin. From where he sat at the edge, Vin watched him approach, but said nothing.

Chris was finally standing next to him. He paused and studied Vin a moment. The tracker was clearly drunk and getting more drunk from the whiskey bottle in his hand.

"Thought you was comin' over t' the jail."

Vin didn't look at him. "You thought wrong." He took another pull on the whiskey bottle.

"Vin, that could've happened to any of us."

"Well, it didn't," Vin said sharply. "It happened to me! I'M the one who got rooked, I'M the one they're all laughin' at--! You think Williams is gonna forget it? He's gonna tell the whole damn town, the Judge-everybody--about how stupid Vin Tanner was!"

"You made a mistake. Folks do. Plannin' on doin' it again?" Vin glared at him darkly. "All right, then."

"Just get the hell away from me. Can't you tell I wanna be alone?"

"You can feel sorry for yourself later. Right now we need you to help us try to find her."

"Don't you get it? She's MILES from here by now!" Vin shouted hotly, staggering to his feet. "And it's my stupid fault!"

Chris took a step toward him. "Gimme the bottle and let's go--"

"NO! Get away!"

Chris took a step forward. They were at the cliff's edge when Vin lunged and shoved him as hard as he could muster.

Time slowed as Chris lost his footing on the hard, slippery ground. His arms flailed for a moment, and he seemed to hang suspended in the air for an instant, a look of shocked surprise on his face. And then he disappeared.

Vin blinked, instantly sobering. "Oh, my god," he whispered, shutting his eyes tightly. He opened them again, knelt down and looked over the edge. His breath caught in his throat and he felt like he was going to be sick.

"Chris," he said hoarsely. "CHRIIIIIS!"

Chris Larabee lay sprawled on the rocky ground, thirty feet below, not moving.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod," Vin repeated as he scrambled clumsily down the side of the hill, ignoring the cuts and scratches he accumulated during his rapid descent. Had he just killed his best friend?

The bile rose in his throat as he neared the fallen gunslinger. Chris's hat was off and blood was quickly matting the blond hair.

"Chris..." he choked.

Vin knelt beside him, fumbling for a pulse and listening for breathing. He let out a guarded sigh of relief as he found a weak but rapid pulse. Chris was alive. But for how long?

With shaking hands, he untied his bandanna and wrapped it around Chris's head as a temporary bandage. He had to get him out of here. Fast.

+ + + + + + +

Vin held Chris's reins in one hand, urging his own horse as fast as he dared. The ride back to town seemed to take hours as he silently prayed Chris would survive it. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he headed straight to Nathan's.

"NATHAN!"

The door opened and Nathan came out, followed by Josiah.

"What's the--" Nathan began. On seeing Chris slumped in his saddle, a bloody cloth tied round his head, the two men hurried down the stairs to help Vin. "What happened?"

"He fell," Vin said shortly.

Between the three of them, they got Chris up the stairs and laid out on the bed. Nathan carefully removed the bandanna.

"Josiah, bring me some water and some o' them bandages over there."

Vin watched anxiously. "What can I do?"

Nathan had noticed the smell of whiskey when they brought Chris upstairs and the pungent odor still hung in the air around Vin. "Best go lay down yo'self."

Vin shook his head.

"Vin, now I got enough to do right here. If you want to help, then go get some rest. Chris'll still be here later."

"But will he be--"

Josiah put a hand on his shoulder. "Son, ain't nothin' you can do here 'sides worry. And that ain't gonna do Chris or you any good. Now why don't you go do what Nathan says."

Vin shook his head, still not taking his eyes off the unconscious man in the bed. Finally, he looked up at Josiah, pain etched in his deep, blue eyes.

"You'll come git me if anythin'--"

Josiah nodded, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. Vin sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"I'll be back," he declared. And with that, slowly, reluctantly, he backed out of the room and headed for his wagon.

+ + + + + + +

It was quiet and Vin was angry. Chris was laughing at him, like everyone else had laughed at him. It echoed in his ears, reverberating off the hills, until it sounded like the whole valley was jeering. Every rock and tree. All he wanted to do was wipe that smirk off his face, once for all.

He shoved with all his might. Chris's mouth opened in a silent scream of terror, and then he plummeted to earth, smashing against the rocks with a sickening thud into a thousand tiny, bloody pieces.

Vin's eyes flew open and he sat up with a start, breathing heavily, sweat dripping off his face. It was dark outside. Geezus, how long had he been asleep? He groped for his shirt. He had to know how Chris was.

He pulled his shirt on and hurried to Nathan's. It was late, he could tell. It was dark and the street was empty. Well, hell, if he woke up Nathan, so be it. He had to know if Chris was even still alive.

He hastily climbed the steps and quietly eased open the door. A single candle burned in the room. In its glow, he could make out Nathan's shadowy form asleep on a palette on the floor. But that wasn't the image that held his attention.

He could see Chris's still, slack features, pale in the candlelight, made whiter still by the bandage around his forehead. Josiah sat nearby, his head bowed, lips moving in silent prayer.

Vin stepped tentatively into the room. Josiah didn't look up as he approached. He licked his lips and took a deep breath.

"How is he?"

Josiah finished his prayer and rubbed his face. "The same." He studied Vin. "How're you holdin' up?"

Vin nodded toward the bed. "Better'n him... It's all my fault, Josiah," he said in an anguished voice. "I did this to him."

"Thought Chris fell."

"After I pushed him."

Josiah looked up at him in surprise.

"I didn't mean to," Vin added hastily. "I mean, I meant to push him, I just didn't mean for...this."

"I see. Drunk or angry?"

"Both," he sighed.

Josiah shook his head. "Bad combination."

"If he dies--"

"I don't think Nathan thinks he's gonna die."

"Wish he'd wake up, then. Wake up and cuss me out for bein' ornery. It'd be music to my ears. Or hit me. Anythin'."

"I won't lie to you, Vin. He's got a nasty head injury. Don't have to be a doctor to see that. Best any of us can do is hope and pray. So it's all up to Chris now."

Vin managed a thin smile. "And God?"

"Him, too." He studied the concerned furrow of Vin's brow. "You want to spell me awhile?" Vin nodded. "Wake Nathan if you need 'im."

"Thanks, Josiah."

Vin heard him leave. Now the only sounds in the room were the steady, almost imperceptible breathing of Chris and the light snoring of Nathan. Vin thought about what Josiah had said. 'Hope and pray.' He already held onto hope, however tenuously. And praying didn't seem like a bad idea.

He didn't rightly know what to say to God, but he'd figure it out. He had the rest of the night.

+ + + + + + +

The next day passed so slowly that it seemed to Vin like time was standing still. Chris remained unconscious and Nathan had finally shooed Vin out of the room, promising to send for him if there was any change. He came back periodically, though, often to find one of the others there, like himself compelled by curiosity and concern. Each time he'd stayed for awhile, reluctant to leave, until Nathan's insistence forced him to once again wander around town, like a puff of dandelion on the wind.

He sat for awhile at the far end of town, as far from Nathan's as he could get. He knew the others would want to talk about what happened but he didn't want to think about that right now.

Hell, that was all he thought about.

His best friend, lying in a coma. Maybe dying, surrounded by his *real* friends.

::First and only best friend you ever had, and he didn't even do nothin' to you. And look how you repay him for his friendship and trust.::

Not even a friend, but more like a brother. He had told Chris about the bounty on his head not long after they'd met. He knew instinctively this was a man he could trust. And Chris had not let him down. Chris had even risked getting himself hung to save Vin's neck.

Vin shook his head. His thoughts were only making it worse, making his stomach twist in a knot. He hadn't eaten all day and he still wasn't hungry. He needed a drink but liquor was the last thing he wanted.

Vin found himself wandering aimlessly around town, alone and oblivious to anything going on around him. His thoughts remained firmly on the man he'd injured. And he wondered, as he finally bedded down for the night, if the worst was yet to come.

+ + + + + + +

Chris groaned softly. The relentless ache knifing through his head made him nauseous. He lay completely still for a long time, then slowly opened his eyes and, without realizing it, groaned again.

"Chris?" a voice asked softly. Nathan. And he sounded relieved.

Chris squinted, trying to find him in the darkness. There was no moonlight, not even stars.

"Nathan?" His throat was dry and the gravelly whisper of his own voice surprised him. "What happened?"

"You had a bad fall. You remember any of it?"

"No. When?"

"You been out two days. Scared the beejeezus outta Vin. Got yo'self a king-size headache, too, I bet."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Why the hell's it so dark in here? What time is it?" There was a long silence. He frowned, puzzled, and began to wonder if Nathan had heard him. Or, given the lack of the light in the room, if Nathan had left. "Nath-"

Then came the reply in a quiet, somber voice.

"It's 11 AM., Chris."

"What?! But it's-" Realization hit him like a punch in the chest. He sat up, ignoring the dizziness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, then held his hands up in front of his face, trying vainly to see them through the darkness.

"Oh, no," he murmured, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Oh, no... NO!" He took a deep breath, fighting for control even as his heart hammered in his ears and the dizziness and nausea suddenly hit him like a wave. "I can't see," he said urgently. "Nathan, I can't see..."

Nathan reached out, putting his hands on Chris's shoulders to steady him. Chris gripped his arms tightly.

"Help me," he pleaded.

Nathan swallowed hard. "I-I can't. If I was a doctor..." He let the sentence trail off. "There's nothing I can do."

+ + + + + + +

Buck strode up the dusty street toward Nathan's. Ever since Chris's accident, he had made it a habit to come every two hours or so to see if there was any change, despite Nathan's best efforts to shoo him and Vin away. The stillness and pallor of his long-time friend frightened him. Nathan seemed to think Chris would survive, but Buck wondered how much of that was medicinal knowledge and how much was hope. It had already been two days and Chris hadn't awakened. A man couldn't stay in a coma forever. Good or bad, something had to happen.

He was at the bottom of the steps to Nathan's when an anguished cry shattered the quiet, sending him charging up the stairs two at a time.

"What the hell-" Buck began.

"Get that lamp and light it," ordered Nathan. Buck hastily lit it and handed it to Nathan. "Chris, can you see the flame?"

Chris stared hard and shook his head.

"Buck?!" Chris called out. He was sitting up, breathing heavily, a look of fear on his face, eyes staring unseeingly into space. Buck turned to give Nathan a questioning look.

Nathan quickly poured some laudanum into a cup and held it to Chris's lips.

"Drink this," he prodded. "It's for your headache. Maybe it'll help your eyes, too."

Chris drank reluctantly until the cup was empty.

"Now lie down," Nathan said sternly.

Chris sat rigid, as if he hadn't heard. "Buck?" he repeated, uncertainly.

"I'm right here, Chris."

"I'm-"

"I know," he said in sad, gentle voice. He paused to take a deep breath. "Maybe…maybe things'll be a little better once you've rested some."

"Maybe," Chris said without conviction. He yawned then, lay down, and drifted off to sleep.

Buck looked uncomfortable. "I better...go tell the others. They'll wanna know."

"Need some comp'ny?"

Buck forced a wan smile. "No, thanks. I'd best go do it. Chris might wake up while you're gone..."

Nathan nodded in understanding. "Prob'bly find 'em in the saloon."

"Yeah," said Buck softly.

+ + + + + + +

With heavy footsteps, Buck walked into the saloon. It was fairly quiet with a few patrons scattered around. He needed a drink, first and foremost. He waited for his whiskey-beer would not be enough for what he had to do-and turned to survey the room.

JD and Ezra were sitting at a table near the front of the room, engrossed in what appeared to be Ezra trying to teach JD a card game. They seemed to be having a good time, Buck hated telling them his news. He could've waited forever to tell them something like this. He slowly approached the table and sat down.

Ezra immediately noted Buck's unusual demeanor. "Something has happened to Mr. Larabee."

"Is he--?" JD hesitated, reluctant to voice what he and Ezra were thinking.

Buck shook his head. The fact that Chris wasn't dead didn't make this any easier to say.

"He's blind," he said at last, so softly the others had to strain to hear.

"Blind," echoed JD in disbelief. "Does Chris know?"

Ezra and Buck shot him a look. JD closed his mouth and fastened his eyes on his cards with renewed interest.

"How did he take it?" Ezra set the deck aside and leaned back in his chair.

"How do you think? Someone's gonna hafta let Vin and Josiah know."

"You know," Ezra began thoughtfully, "I've always thought of Mr. Larabee as the leader of our ragtag bunch. What becomes of him--and us--now?"

"He can still lead us if he wants to," JD said earnestly. "Ain't like his mind's gone, right?" There was a pause. "Right?"

"Right, JD," Buck agreed at last, but Ezra's question still reverberated in his mind.

+ + + + + + +

Vin stood on the hilltop, gazing out over the valley. This was where it had happened. Where everything had gone wrong. Where he'd injured his best friend. Maybe killed him. Josiah said Chris wouldn't likely die, but Vin wasn't so sure. The waiting was the worst part. No, not the worst. He didn't want to think about what was worst.

And then there was 'Priscilla Moore' or whoever she was. But, really, it wasn't her fault. It was all his, for allowing himself to be taken in by her. And now it could cost Chris his life.

The empty liquor bottle still lay on its side on the mossy ground. He picked it up and threw it as hard as he could, listening for the satisfying crash of broken glass against rock. He sighed heavily and headed back to town.

What he ought to do was to stay away from Chris. But he couldn't. He had to know if Chris was going to be all right. Maybe Chris was awake by now. He hoped so more. More than anything in the world, he hoped so.

+ + + + + + +

Chris awoke suddenly to complete blackness. His heart sank as he realized that nothing had changed since the last time. Day or night, it was all the same to him now. His head still ached, though now it was a constant, dull throb, and his stomach rumbled audibly.

"You hungry?"

Nathan's voice startled him. He nodded. Not sure if Nathan saw it, he added "Yeah. What time is it?"

"'Bout 4:30 in the afternoon. I got some errands t' do and a couple of patients to see, but I'll send someone back with some food." There was a long silence. "You been in that bed two days now. Mebbe you'd like to sit in a chair fo' awhile?"

Chris shrugged.

"All right." Nathan helped him from the bed to a chair by the window. Chris could feel the warm sun on his face, even though he couldn't see it. "Thanks. Where's Vin?" he asked suddenly.

"He was here constantly while you was out. Probably catchin' up on all that sleep he missed worryin' hisself to death. I'll be back in a little while. You stay put, now." Chris could hear the smile in Nathan's voice with that last.

"Yeah."

He listened for the retreating footsteps, leaned back in the chair and sighed tiredly.

It reminded him of that time in the Jericho prison in 'The Hole.' He felt closed in now as he did then, and he longed to escape the unending darkness to a place where there was light and color and beauty. Despite the near-constant presence of his friends, he knew he was alone in his dark world.

He slumped in his chair, glad to be by himself at last. The strain of struggling to be strong, of taking it all in stride, was already taking its toll.

What would happen to him now? When he'd lost his home, his family, and his livelihood, he had still survived. It had been tough, but somehow he'd survived. But how could he survive this, too? How could he endure the stares and the pity and depending on others? These were the things he'd feared more than death. He felt more helpless, vulnerable and truly alone than he ever had in his life.

His body trembled as hot tears of frustration, fear, and loss tracked unchecked down his face.

+ + + + + + +

He didn't know how much time had passed, but it had been awhile since Nathan had left. He heard someone climb the steps and come in.

"Whoever you are, if you're lookin' for Nathan, he's out," he called out.

"I know."

JD.

Chris could smell hot food and his stomach knotted.

"He sent me back with a bowl of stew for you. Inez sends her regards." He put the warm bowl and a spoon in Chris's hands.

There was silence as Chris dug into the first hot meal he'd tasted in days.

"Nathan said to eat slow." Another pause. "Would you like me to read t' you while you eat?"

"If you want."

JD sat on the bed, pulled out one a dime novel, and began to read aloud. Chris didn't care for that kind of literature himself, but he appreciated the fact that JD was trying to entertain him. When he'd finished eating, he held out the bowl and spoon.

"Thanks, JD. And thank Inez for me."

"Anything else I can do?"

"Yeah. Yeah, there is."

+ + + + + + +

It was late afternoon when Vin arrived back into town. He headed straight for Nathan's, hoping for the best and trying to brace himself for the worst. As he opened the door, his heart nearly stopped when he saw the empty bed.

Nathan was pacing the room and fuming, which could only mean Chris wasn't dead but soon could be.

Vin stepped into the room. "He's awake? Where is he?"

"Damn fool! I done tol' him to stay put! Clothes are gone, even his gun. He's still got stitches in his head, dammit, and he's traipsin' aroun'…" He angrily shoved a note into Vin's hands. "Read it."

"Can't ya just tell me?"

"He wanted t' go back t' that shack of his in the hills. Got JD to take him." Nathan shook his head in disgust. "I asked that boy to do one thing for me--"

"I gotta see him," Vin said flatly and started out the door.

"Wait!" Nathan licked his lips before continuing. "Did you see any of the others on your way here?"

Vin shook his head. His blue eyes narrowing. "No, why?"

"Somebody shoulda tol' ya," Nathan said quietly.

"Told me what?"

"Chris is…well, he's….he's blind."

Vin suddenly felt cold all over, then he exploded. "NO!"

"I'm sorry, but--"

"Yer a liar!" Vin continued hotly.

Nathan looked surprised at the sudden attack. He tried to catch Vin's arm in an effort to calm him. "Listen, I know--"

With a defiant glare, Vin tugged his arm free. "He's not," he declared, shaking his head. His voice began to quiver as he turned toward the door. "I didn't--"

"Didn't what?" Nathan asked in a hushed tone.

Vin didn't seem to hear as he hurried out the door and down the steps to the street.

+ + + + + + +

JD guided Chris into the tiny shack, then helped him remove his short, black jacket and his gunbelt, and set them on the bed.

"You sure Nathan ain't gonna have my hide for this?" he asked for the third time.

"If he does, I'll talk to 'im," Chris reassured him.

"Anything else you want? Casey's kinda waiting for me and…"

"Yeah, there is one thing more." He groped around the top of the bed, and carefully picked up his gunbelt, folding it into a bundle. He turned in JD's general direction and held it out to him.

"I want you to have this."

JD gaped, open-mouthed. "Your gun? Chris, I can't-"

"Go on. Take it. I can't use it anymore."

Slowly, almost reverently, JD took the rig from Chris's hands. Satisfied, Chris made his way back to the bed and sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him on the mattress, his back against the wall.

JD fingered the worn, tooled leather and polished metal. His fingertips traced the well-oiled gun metal. Chris Larabee's gun. It had seen a lot of action. And now it was his. Given to him by Chris Larabee himself. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I'll hold onto it for you," he said at last, when he could find his voice again. "You might want it back some day."

Chris forced a smile.

"You do that."

+ + + + + + +

It was almost dusk when Vin arrived at the quiet shack. While still several yards away, he dismounted and cautiously approached, but froze at a movement from inside the tiny building. Relief flooded through him at seeing Chris alive and awake as he came outside, shirtless and barefoot. Chris stood by the door, listening intently.

Instinctively, Vin crouched down in the tall grass and didn't move. He watched Chris a moment, then slowly straightened in full view of the gunman. Chris turned his head until it seemed like he was staring directly at Vin yet he didn't acknowledge him. Finally, without a word, he turned and went back inside.

So it was true.

Chris really was blind.

Blind!

It was like being punched in the chest and the gut the same time. Suddenly he could think of nothing to say to Chris. His mind was blank except for the accusing voices that now filled his brain, echoing over and over, as he silently backed away, mounted up, and rode out.

'This is all your fault.' 'You did this to him.' 'You ruined your best friend's life.'

Vin headed back to town, his heart and gut wrenching painfully every step of the way, the pain sometimes intense and real enough to stop his breathing. Maybe he could face Chris in the morning. He just couldn't do it right now.

+ + + + + + +

Chris could tell it was morning. The moist, cool air had the smell of morning, and he could hear the noisy twitter of birds outside. He dragged himself reluctantly out of the comfort and relative safety of his bed and pulled on a shirt.

Morning. Another day of unending darkness, defined only by sounds and smells, and whatever he could feel and touch. Another day of trying to prove to himself and to the world that he was still independent, still a survivor.

He groped around the tiny kitchen area, searching for some bacon and bread to fry for breakfast. He hadn't eaten since the bowl of stew the day before and he was ravenously hungry. It took several tries to light the stove, but he could feel the rising heat against his palms at last.

He was feeling a little heartened by his success so far.

He put a lump of lard in the fry pan and heard it sizzle. As he added the bacon to the pan, there was a 'whoosh' and Chris cried out in pain as hot and flaming grease spattered everywhere, including on his hands, arms and shirt. He could feel the fire's heat against his face. He groped for the flour and threw it against the top of the tiny stove, smothering the flames, then impulsively grabbed the hot pan by its handle. Cursing with rage and pain, he flung the pan against the wall.

It was all too much. Frustration and fear boiled over as he grabbed at anything his hands could reach and flung it aside. The few possessions he had flew around the room, crashing against the wall and floor.

He stood there, breathing heavily and shaking, fighting for control. "I can't do this!" His scream of frustration trailed off to a whimper. "I can't…"

He wasn't so damned hungry after all, he decided angrily, ignoring the pangs in his stomach and the pain still radiating through his hands and wrists as he fell onto the mattress and curled up on his side.

His thoughts drifted to Vin. Where was he?

Vin hadn't been anywhere near him since the accident. Nathan had said Vin had been worried about him but it was hard to tell when the tracker was nowhere around. Chris wanted very much to talk to him. He had tried to remember the details of the accident but it only made his head ache worse than it already did. He wanted to know what had really happened that day.

Had he been drunk when he fell? He vaguely remembered that it had something to do with liquor. And something else-was Vin angry with him? Maybe that was why he wasn't around. Chris wondered what he'd done to anger the Texan.

His head pounded sharply. Chris put his hands on both sides of his head, trying to contain the pain. Then awareness left him completely.

+ + + + + + +

Vin tossed the empty bottle aside. Damn, he wasn't drunk enough yet. He knew that by the fact that the pain hadn't dulled one bit. He'd been drunk all last night since he'd left Chris's place and now he was disappointed to find himself sobering up again. He didn't want to be sober. Sober meant pain. He didn't think he'd ever hurt so bad in all his life as he did now for what he'd done to his best friend.

Which'd be worse? Killin' 'im or blindin' 'im? He knew the answer to that. Blinding him. Condemning a man like Chris Larabee to a hell on earth.

I don't deserve to have a best friend. I don't deserve to have any friends at all, Vin thought angrily. At least then he couldn't hurt people he cared about.

He headed back to the saloon. He needed to get more whiskey. At least enough to take away the pain, as if there was that much whisky in the whole territory.

+ + + + + + +

It had been a tough decision for Ezra. Poker or Chris. He knew he was considered the least sensitive of the group and that annoyed him a little. It wasn't that he cared any less about what had happened to Chris. He regarded Chris as truly being a friend--a label Ezra applied to acquaintances very selectively. But he was ultimately a pragmatist more than a sentimentalist and, though he cared deeply, he had the least facility for revealing such feelings.

An afternoon poker game was certainly appealing, and he quite possibly could've turned a modest profit. But friendship was one of those things that couldn't be measured in dollars and cents. Chris had trusted Ezra with his life almost since the day they met. Ezra had let him down only once and Chris had forgiven him for it. The gambler wisely never allowed it to happen again.

Ezra hadn't seen his friend since Chris had awakened, and he was at least as curious as any of the others about seeing firsthand how Chris was faring. Ezra respected and admired his courage for going back out to his shack to try to continue his life as normal. He didn't know how he himself would have survived such a loss, and he'd be more than grateful to never find out.

As always, the modest little building appeared quiet. Sometimes one couldn't tell if anyone was living there or not. Ezra boldly stepped inside and stopped in mild surprise.

Clothes were scattered around and the few pieces of furniture were overturned. A burned pan lay in the corner, and food and flour were scattered about. A ruined shirt lay on the floor near the disheveled bed. The mattress was half-way onto the floor and Chris was curled up it, shirtless and barefoot, eyes closed, knees drawn in to his chest.

"Chris?"

Chris's eyes opened but focused on nothing.

"Ezra?" he said with mild disinterest.

Ezra studied him. There were red patches on his wrists and forearms.

"What happened here?"

Chris didn't answer.

"Let me see those burns."

"I don't need no help," came the tart reply, even as he slowly sat up to let Ezra examine the injured skin.

"I know." Ezra replied coolly. "I'm not a doctor, but I think you ought to let Nathan examine these injuries. I'm sure you don't need an infection on top of everything else."

"Don't need no doctorin'."

"I can see them; you can't. I'll take you into town so he can have a look at you."

Chris's stomach suddenly rumbled. "It does that a lot lately, " he grumbled. "Just ignore it. I have."

Ezra looked at him sharply as he righted the table and chairs. "When is the last time you ate?"

"Don't know." He snorted in amusement. " I'd look at my watch but..."

The gambler ignored the comment. He picked up a pot, some dishes and other utensils and then and began to rummage around the tiny cookstove.

"What're you doing?" Chris asked curiously. "I told you I don't need no help."

Chris listened to the sounds of Ezra preparing some bacon and a tin of beans. Chris idly touched one of the burns with his fingertips, hissing at the pain.

"Didn't know you could cook, Ezra," he said at last.

Ezra shrugged. "I can do what I have to when I need to do it. Just because I don't cook, doesn't mean I'm incapable of it."

Chris nodded in agreement as Ezra set a steaming plate in front of him. "It's not the Ritz, and would even pale next to a repast of Inez's, but it's nutritionally sufficient. Now eat. Then I'm taking you back to Nathan's."

"I told you--I'm fine."

"Yes, I see that," Ezra observed dryly. "He'll at least want to take out those stitches of yours, I'm sure. So just indulge us both, all right?"

"I'll need a shirt," was all he would say.

+ + + + + + +

Nathan pushed open the church door. With all that had happened, he didn't know if anyone had ever got the latest word to Josiah about Chris. Besides, he welcomed the chance to talk to the ex-preacher.

'Mis'ry loves company,' his daddy had said.

"Josiah?" He walked up the aisle and paused at the door to his room.

The big man came out, pulling the door shut behind him.

"I thought I'd come by in case ain't nobody told you yet--"

"'Bout Chris not bein' able to see?"

"They told you, then…"

"He told me."

Josiah pushed open the door again. Vin was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. His knees drawn in to his chin, and his eyes stared at some faraway point. Nathan looked at Josiah quizzically, his brown eyes full of concern.

"Wandered inside. Ain't said much since. He's been drinkin' since yesterday, looks like. I think he's soberin' up, but I thought it best to keep him here so the good citizens don't see 'im like this."

Nathan crouched down and studied Vin's face.

"Vin? You all right?"

"Nathan?" he slurred. He took a breath and said softly, "I blinded my best friend."

Nathan looked sharply at Josiah.

"Accident," the preacher said by way of explanation. "Blames himself."

Vin shook his head, watching a scene replay in front of him that no one else could see. "Shovin' a man into oblivion ain't no accident," he said hollowly, his voice breaking.

"You didn't mean for him to get hurt," Josiah reminded him gently.

Nathan turned his attention back to Vin. "You talked to Chris, yet?"

Anger flared in the sharpshooter's eyes. "What do you say to a man? 'Sorry I made ya blind?'"

Josiah leaned against the doorframe. "Might do for a start."

Vin shook his head slowly. "That won't fix nothin'. Won't undo what happened. Won't make up for what I done."

"It won't for a fact," Josiah agreed. "But you might be surprised at the healing powers of confession and forgiveness."

"Forgive?! You think he's gonna forgive me for *this*? How could anybody? I ruined his life and he has every reason to hate me for it."

"You could at least give him a chance. You're the one said he was your best friend."

"Y'know, Chris don't remember what happened," added Nathan. "Might be blamin' hisself for what happened just like you are. He's asked about you."

Vin looked at him skeptically. He opened his mouth to reply when a shout interrupted them.

"Nathan? You in there?" Buck could be heard coming up the church steps.

Nathan straightened and left the room, as Josiah closed the door again, leaving it open a crack. Moments later, Buck entered the church sanctuary.

"Been lookin' all over for ya. Ezra's brought Chris to your room. He's hurt."

"Bad?" asked Josiah.

"Don't know. He's conscious, if that helps."

"No!" a voice moaned from Josiah's room.

Buck looked at the two men in surprise and pushed the door open.

"It just gets worse," Vin was muttering. "I blinded him and it just gets worse." His body started to shiver uncontrollably.

Nathan turned and started to leave. "I'd best git goin'. Thanks, Buck." He paused and looked at the two of them, a profoundly helpless sadness in his liquid brown eyes. "I wish I could do more for Chris. If I was a real doctor…But I'm not…And I…"

"We understand, Nathan," said Josiah in a gentle voice. "You're doin' the best a good friend can do."

The black man forced a tiny smile and nodded his thanks before disappearing out the door.

Buck turned back to Josiah, nodding his head in Vin's direction. "What's he talkin' about?"

"It was an accident, Buck. He didn't mean for it to happen. And it's tearin' him up inside."

"Ezra asked us to meet him in the saloon…" Buck glanced back at Vin uncertainly.

"He'll be all right. You go ahead."

Buck nodded and left.

Josiah nodded, then turned to Vin, who by now had his arms hugging his knees and was visibly shivering.

"Why don't you rest here for now?" Josiah pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Vin. "You certainly got Chris in a mess and yourself in a heap o' trouble," he said dryly.

"I know, Josiah," he whispered. "I know."

+ + + + + + +

Buck stopped by Nathan's while the healer examined and treated Chris's injuries, including his newest ones, then joined JD, Josiah and Ezra in the saloon. After Ezra finished telling them about the grease fire at the shack and the injuries Chris had sustained as a result, Buck shook his head sadly.

"That man is like a brother to me. I've watched him endure more tragedy than any man should ever have to. And now this..."

Ezra studied his glass thoughtfully. "Gentlemen," he said slowly. "Might I suggest…encouraging Mr. Larabee to go back east? They have…places for people with his affliction."

Buck bristled. "You mean like an institution?"

"I mean a place where people--professionals--have the experience in dealing with the blind. We do not have the skills to look after him properly and it'll be just a matter of time before he or his reputation gets him killed. I'm suggesting he'd receive better care--and be safer--there."

"Ever been to one of them places?" Josiah asked curiously, scratching his chin.

"Well...."

"Think Chris'd like it?"

Ezra straightened. "Regardless of what he likes, you must admit that circumstances have changed beyond his control. He cannot continue to live out there in that hovel of his in his present condition. I don't see where he--or for that matter, we--have any choice."

"You be the one to tell him he has to go."

"Has anyone got a better idea?"

"He stays in town in his rented room," suggested Buck. "There's six of us to look after him."

"Fine," said Ezra at last. "Shall we tell him as a group?"

Buck nodded. "Safest way."

"For all of us," added JD.

+ + + + + + +

It was mid-evening by the time Nathan brought Chris into the saloon. The room was now tightly packed as Nathan steered him over to the table.

"Them burns was minor, and he held nice and still for me and let me take them stitches out," said Nathan to the group.

Chris tried to smile. "Don't let word get around that I was a good boy, Nathan."

"Have a drink, Chris?" offered Josiah. "Stay awhile."

"Nah, I'd best be headin' out. Probably gettin' late. It's a long way out there and back. JD, you mind?"

There was a pause that was physically tangible. Chris's smile faded. "What...?"

"We think you should stay in town," said Ezra slowly. "For as long as this...condition...lasts."

"You tricked me, bringing me back in town," Chris accused.

"It was for your own good," Ezra replied. "You nearly set yourself on fire and if you don't manage to eventually succeed in doing so, you might--you just might--get yourself shot."

"Meanin'?"

Ezra licked his lips and drew himself up a little. "How long do you think it'll be before word spreads that the famous Chris Larabee is now…" He paused, struggling for a word. "…indisposed?"

"You can say it, Ezra," he spat. "Blind. Go on, say it."

"'Blind', then. As I said, it's for your own good. You have a room in town. And you have six friends willing to 'watch your back' for you, as Mr. Tanner so colorfully puts it."

"No." Chris's jaw set determinedly. "JD? Take me home. Now."

"Uh…No, I…Sorry, Chris."

Chris trembled with fury. These were his friends betraying him now. He didn't want to stay in town, groping his way around or, worse, carrying a cane. He didn't want to be where people could stare and pity and laugh at him. An argument had started in one corner of the saloon, so Chris raised his voice slightly.

"I'll find my own way home," he said, as he stood up and tried to leave.

"Chris--!"

The warning came too late as he stumbled over a fallen chair in his path and fell to his knees.

JD looked at the others and moved to take Chris's elbow. "Come on," he whispered. "Nobody saw. I'll take you to your room, okay?"

Chris nodded in defeat as JD helped him up. Just as Chris regained his feet, the six of them were distracted by the rapidly-escalating brawl that now engulfed the entire saloon.

"Get 'im out of here!" Buck yelled as Chris was escorted outside into the alley behind, followed by the sounds of breaking furniture and glass.

"Stay here, okay?" JD said breathlessly. "I'll come back for you and take you to your room."

Chris stood there, alone, silently fuming. He should have been in the thick of it, trying to help stop the fight and, had he been able to see, he would have been. But instead he'd been hustled outside like a child who was only in the way, and he resented it.

The ever-present headache seized his attention, as pain suddenly lanced through his skull. Chris was learning to recognize the fierce, burning agony as a signal of another impending blackout. He groped his way along the wall, hoping to find his way to his room before he passed out.

A firm, strong hand took his elbow, steadying him.

"JD," he ground out, "I need to get to my room."

"I got ya," a familiar voice drawled softly. Chris frowned.

"Vin?"

An instant later, he was unconscious.

+ + + + + + +

Awareness that he was in a bed came slowly to Chris Larabee. Whose bed, he wasn't sure, but he hoped it was his own. How had he--? Someone had brought him here. The deep, even breathing of someone sleeping nearby filtered into his fogged brain, prodding his memory.

"Vin?"

"Right here," came a sleepy voice.

Chris heard a rustle and a creak as Vin shifted in the chair. There was a long silence, until Chris finally asked the question that had been uppermost in his mind lately.

"Where ya been?"

"Thinkin'," Vin replied.

"All this time? Musta had a lot of thinkin' t' do."

"Fer a fact."

Chris took a deep breath. "I…I can't remember what happened, but whatever I done--"

"Wasn't you. You didn't do nothin'. Leastaways, nothin' any good friend wouldn't try t' do." Vin shifted again, uncomfortably. "JD come lookin' fer ya last night. Got scared when he couldn't find ya outside the saloon."

"He's a good ki--" Chris stopped to correct himself. "--man."

"Yeah, he is. Told him you was asleep."

Chris frowned. "I wasn't."

"I know. Been havin' them spells often?"

"Only when the headache gets bad."

"'Headache?'"

Chris shrugged. "It's tolerable now."

Vin moved over to the window.

"How much more damage can I do to a man," he muttered bitterly to himself.

"What?" The silence in the room grew and expanded as the revelation sank in slowly. Chris resisted it at first, but the reality of what Vin had said would not be denied. He struggled to sit up. "YOU did this to me? WHY?"

Vin rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I dunno--it was an accident. A stupid accident. You were tryin' t' talk to me. I was mule-headed. I pushed ya and ya fell and..." He let the sentence trail off.

"Pushing me was an 'accident'?" Chris rubbed his temples, the pain filling his skull with a sharp, persistent ache.

"I didn't mean--"

"Get out," Chris said in a soft voice. His headache was beginning to pound mercilessly again as he tried to sort out the tumble of thoughts and feelings that bombarded him.

"If I could make it right, I--"

"I need ya t' get out," he said levelly, barely controlling his voice.

Vin sighed. "I understand," he said sadly.

Chris heard the door close. His hold on his emotions crumbled and, as he had three years ago when he'd lost so much, he began to cry in painful, wracking sobs.

+ + + + + + +

Vin stood outside the door to Chris's room. At least now Larabee knew the truth, though that thought didn't console Vin in the least. He pressed his back against the wall next to the door jamb, trying to decide where to go, what to do next. From behind the closed door, he heard a sound he'd never imagined: the heartbroken sobs of Chris Larabee.

Vin swallowed a lump in his throat, as he began to realize the extent of the harm he'd caused. He'd not only caused the man physical harm, but an emotional breakdown as well. Chris would've welcomed a bullet from a stranger--and would've been smiling--compared to the betrayal of a trusted friend. A friend who'd cost him everything.

His stomach wrenched painfully, and he crossed his arms over his midsection. He bent at the waist and drew in two quick breaths before straightening up and numbly heading down the stairs and out into the street.

"Good morning, Mr. Tanner," said Ezra, as Vin passed him without noticing him.

As if in a dream, he got on his horse and rode out of town with no particular destination in mind. He just kept riding as if he could outride the guilt and pain that dogged him.

When he finally slowed to a stop, he found himself back where it had all happened. Something kept drawing him back to this spot. He sat on the hillside and stared off into the distance. There was a mist rising from the shadowy valley, spreading out over the trees below him.

Yep, sure was a pretty morning.

Except Chris couldn't see it. Would never see another like it, either.

Vin sighed. He'd blinded a man. Ruined his life. He hadn't meant to, but the fact was it had happened and it was no one's fault but his. Chris didn't want him around, and who could blame him? And how could the others ever trust him again?

Vin Tanner couldn't imagine living with the guilt of destroying his best friend. Of watching Chris suffer. If he could have helped Chris...but, no, he'd done enough already, he thought bitterly. No one would want him near Chris anyway and it was probably just as well. No, he had to leave. There was no other choice. If he knew where that Priscilla had got to, he'd have gone after her, but she could be anywhere by now. Anywhere at all.

Suddenly it seemed like a good time to clean up old business.

+ + + + + + +

Chris lay back on the bed, feeling physically and emotionally drained.

Vin had done this to him. Vin had blinded him--a man he'd trusted with his life and whose life he'd defended. He wanted to believe it was an accident, but it didn't change what was. His world had come crashing down on him three years ago. He had struggled to survive and had even begun to rebuild. And now it had all caved in on him again.

Now he wasn't so sure he could survive this, too. His friends didn't seem to think so or he wouldn't be trapped here in town.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Had Vin returned? What more was there to say? Whatever it was, he didn't want to hear it right now.

"Go 'way."

"Can't, stud," drawled Buck as he opened the door. "Got yer breakfast."

"Ain't hungry."

"Inez'll have my hide if you--"

"You eat it."

"I'd love to, but I'm full. Now stop bein' so stubborn and eat, like a good boy."

Chris exploded. He lashed out, managing to knock the tray from Buck's hands.

"I told you I ain't hungry! I just want to go home, dammit." His voice broke, becoming very soft and without hope as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I want to go home."

Buck said nothing for a long moment, then gently lowered himself beside his friend.

"Chris…I want things to be different, too. We all do. But we're just tryin' to protect you."

Chris sat there, showing no reaction.

"Vin said...he made me blind. Did you know that?"

"We did. It was an accident."

"He pushed me."

"He didn't mean for ya t' fall. I was mad as fire at first. Hell, we were all were. But, Chris, he's payin' for it, I can tell. You know, he was real scared afterwards. Man thought you was gonna die, even after Nathan said you weren't."

"Maybe I should have."

Buck squeezed his shoulder and stood. "Now, you know you don't want that," he said as he began to clean up some of the mess. "You're a survivor. I seen it after Sarah and Adam. And I see it in you now." He looked at the broken dishes ruefully. "I'll tell Inez I met with a little mishap with your breakfast. Or do you wanna come over and eat in the saloon?"

"No. No, I don't want people seein' me like this."

"You can't hole up in here forever." Buck paused, regarding his blind friend. "Any man would be scared," he added gently. "Just remember that you ain't alone. You weren't after Sarah and Adam, and you ain't now."

Chris pondered this awhile, then finally forced a wan smile.

"The saloon," he echoed thoughtfully. "I…I guess I could eat somethin'…"

"Now we're talkin'! Tell ya what: let's have us a bath and a shave, and then go get us some food. Just leave it t' ol' Buckley." He took Chris's elbow and helped him up. "Make a whole new man outta you."

A whole new man.

"Already been there," Chris murmured.

+ + + + + + +

Mrs. Potter stood outside the bank, having just been escorted to the sidewalk by Williams, the bank manager.

"It was just terrible," she fluttered. "I just can't imagine. You're very fortunate she didn't shoot you or Mr. Tanner!"

"Well, yes, Mrs. Potter, I'm sure-"

"There goes Mr. Tanner now." She pointed down the street as Vin was riding out of town. She looked at Williams knowingly and dropped her voice. "I've heard tell he used to be a bounty hunter. Hunted buffalo with the Indians, too. Why, he could be on her trail even now! Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"Indeed," Williams said absently, as he watched Vin riding off like a man with a very determined destination in mind. Williams didn't like it. "Excuse me, Mrs. Potter...I have to...send a wire..."

+ + + + + + +

Later that morning, Chris did feel better after his bath and shave. Buck had taken care to make sure that Chris knew where things were - the soap, towel, and tub - before paying a little extra to give him complete privacy.

Buck had been equally good about Chris's shave. He'd kept the barber in conversation, his soft gentle voice keeping Chris relaxed and calm as an unseen blade scraped across his face.

Now seated at a table in the saloon, Inez had just set a plate of hot food in front of him. Buck quickly explained what was on his and plate and where.

"Thanks, Buck," Chris said, softly and sincerely to his longtime friend before attacking his meal. He could just hear Ezra in a corner of the busy room, and he sounded like the game was going well.

As he finished his last bite of food, he started at the sudden sound of JD's voice just over his shoulder. Buck looked up at him and frowned.

"JD, don't go sneakin' up on man, will you?"

JD shot him a slightly wounded look. "I was lookin' for you. I wanted to ask you if you've seen Vin around town?"

"It's early yet. Man could be most anywhere."

"Anywhere is right," agreed JD. "He's gone."

"Gone?"

"Who's gone?" asked Josiah as he joined the three men and took a seat at the table.

"Vin-" JD began.

Buck interrupted. "Now you don't know-"

JD shook his head insistently. "I went by his wagon. It's empty. And his horse is gone, too. I'm tellin' ya, Buck, he's gone. Up and left." He looked around at the others. "Didn't he say anything to anybody?"

"Not me."

Josiah. "Who saw 'im last?"

"I did."

The others went silent and looked at Chris.

"--And I'm goin' after 'im."

More silence. At last, Buck leaned forward in his chair.

"And just how do you aim to do that? And for that matter, why? Hell, the man blinded you."

Chris didn't flinch. "I know what he did...And I know where he's goin'...Tascosa." He stood. "I gotta stop 'im, Buck."

"Well, I don't see how you're gonna do that. He's made his choice. Maybe he thinks it's somethin' he needs to do."

Chris shook his head. "Ain't right, and you know it." He paused, and swallowed hard. "I-I...I need someone to help me go after him."

The others looked at each other in surprise. They had never heard Chris say he "needed" anyone but it was obvious it was the hardest thing he'd ever put into words. The others looked at each other uncertainly.

"No, Chris," Buck answered at last in a quiet voice. "Whether you think he's doin' right or not, the man made his own decision, and besides, you ain't in no kinda shape to go all over Creation after 'im."

"I'll go with you," JD said suddenly.

Buck looked at him angrily. "JD-"

"He'll find a way to go, Buck. Like it or not, you know he will. At least if one of us is with him, it might be okay."

"I'm still here-" Chris interjected, peeved at being talked about like he was no longer in the room. "I'm blind, not deaf."

The two continued anyway.

"It's foolhardy!" Buck argued. "Draggin' a blind man out to the middle of nowhere. Kid, why, the two of you won't get five miles outta town."

JD ignored him as he took the blond gunman's elbow. "C'mon, Chris. Let's go."

Buck turned away from them in angry frustration as the two men left. Josiah leaned forward.

+ + + + + + +

Williams didn't consider himself a nervous man, but certainly a cautious one. He had packed as quickly as he could. He would have to catch up to Tanner now. The peacekeeper had a good head start on him but, wherever it was Tanner was heading Williams was determined to find out. He was just tightening the cinch on his saddle when he saw JD Dunne ride by and Chris Larabee was with him.

Williams frowned. Word on the street was that the man was blind, but now Williams couldn't be sure. If that were true, surely he wouldn't be riding with Dunne and Tanner now...

Now the bank manager was sure something was up. They were all headed out of town, all in the same direction. Maybe they had formed a search party. Maybe they had a clue.

He had to find out.

+ + + + + + +

It was late afternoon when Vin finally slowed his pace. He didn't know what he was in such an all-fired hurry about, after all. If he couldn't clear his name, he was riding right back to a hanging for sure.

He'd tried not to think about what lay ahead of him. For that matter, he'd tried not to think about what lay behind him, either. And it was what-or rather who-he'd left behind that caused him the most pain, and far more than the thought of a stretched neck.

He rode on anyway.

+ + + + + + +

Life went on as usual back in town-the occasional dust-up but nothing too serious. Buck had even found some time to spend in his still-fruitless attempt to pursue the Bartholomew twins. Once again, with a smile and a giggle, they'd sashayed off down the street, leaving him watching their retreating backs with appreciation.

Another day, perhaps. He was wearin' 'em down, he was sure. He turned to see Ezra take a comfortable position outside the saloon, with his feet propped up on a railing, his hat tilted over his eyes.

"Takin' the day off, Ezra?"

"Ah, Mr. Wilmington…It seems to me it's some kind of holiday, though it eludes which one it could be."

Buck turned. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Ezra tilted his hat back to regard the tall Irishman. "In case you hadn't noticed while you were scrutinizing the architecture of the bustle, the bank appears to be closed for the day. And as I recall, it is customary to close banks on holidays."

Buck looked down the street, his eyes narrowing. "It ain't no holiday."

Ezra replaced his hat brim over his eyes. "Why don't we pretend it is."

"Get up, Ezra. Let's go check this out."

+ + + + + + +

Chris could feel his horse's gait slowing to a halt.

"JD, you stoppin'?"

"It's getting dark."

The blond gunman snorted softly. It was all night as far as he was concerned.

"And I'm sure the horses could use a rest," JD persisted.

Chris merely nodded and dismounted. JD came around to his side and put Chris's hand on his elbow to be able to guide him.

"There's some rocks over this way, and a couple of trees. That should provide a little shelter from the wind. There's some water nearby, too, so I can refill the canteens and water the horses."

Chris smiled thinly. "Want me to make a fire?"

JD remembered the last time Chris had been around open flames. "Um, no. No, I'll take care of that first, so you can just sit here and relax." He waited till Chris was settled, then glanced around. "I'll get us some firewood."

"There's some cheroots in my saddlebag. Can you bring 'em with ya on your way back?"

"No…um…They aren't."

Chris groaned in frustration. "JD-I'm not going to light myself on fire just having a smoke!"

"I know!" JD defended himself hotly. "It's just…I had to make room, so I took them out."

"Room for what?"

"I…I put your gunbelt in there. Seemed like a safe enough place. And…you might want it."

Chris sighed. "You're a good man," he added gently. "A good friend…"

The young man paused. It was rare that any of the other six had ever acknowledged him as little more than a kid. And now this…and coming from a man he respected most…for a moment JD was struck speechless. He straightened slightly, squaring his shoulders.

"I'd best get that firewood."

"JD…"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

It was just a few minutes later that JD was cooking up some supper for them both. They ate in a companionable silence. JD glanced at Chris occasionally, watching him as he quietly sipped his coffee.

"Chris…?"

"Hm?"

"What's it like…being…you know."

Chris's first impulse was to snap at him, but he resisted it.

"Scary. Lonely. Empty."

JD pondered that moment. "Like…when your family-"

He let the sentence hang in the air. Chris turned that idea over in his mind.

"I reckon." He forced a smile. "I had a good friend nearby then, too…And I'm grateful."

+ + + + + + +

Vin watched the dying embers of his tiny campfire. He reached out to the side, picked up a stick and jabbed at the ashes.

Even though every mile brought him further away from the town where he'd caused so much pain, it didn't ease his heart the tiniest bit. Seemed like the only way to take the pain away was to dance on the end of that noose.

Josiah was always natterin' on about Heaven and Perdition and Divine Justice and all. Vin was never a pious man, but now he wondered if Josiah would think he was goin' to Hell for what he'd done. He yawned sleepily.

No. Not Josiah. Josiah would quote some famous philosopher Vin had never heard of, and tell him about puttin' one's fate in God's hands.

Vin abruptly sat up a little straighter, feeling a little more awake than he had just seconds ago.

Maybe there was something to that. Suddenly he wondered if he was really running to something-or away from something.

He was headed to Tascosa to face something he hadn't done, and was headed away from facing something he had. And he couldn't live with that. Or die for it, either, for that matter. He turned on his side and waited for sleep. Come mornin', he'd put his fate in God's hand and go back to face the town, his friends…and himself.

+ + + + + + +

Williams hunkered down carefully behind the rocks. Although he couldn't hear the voices of the two men, he could see them well enough in the flickering firelight. They were just bedding down for the night.

He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. They were headed straight for the rendezvous point. How did they know? Had she gotten careless? Said something to arouse the suspicions of some local constable or sheriff? Spent too freely somewhere? She'd better not have-at least not before he got his share.

Williams could tell by the way the smaller man looked after him that Larabee still couldn't see. So that much of the gossip was true.

Well, that made things easy.

He waited, patiently. Dunne seemed to be a bit restless. He got up from his bedroll and headed outside the edge of the waning firelight. Williams watched as the young man undid his fly.

Slowly, Williams crept from behind the rocks. The sounds of nocturnal animals covered his soft tread as he crept carefully toward JD, whose attention was absorbed in his own activity.

JD had just finished re-fastening his pants when a hand pressed roughly against his mouth and cold metal pressed against his temple.

"One sound and I'll splatter your brains," Williams said softly, his mouth by JD's ear. "Since you seem to be on your way to visit a mutual friend of ours, why don't you and me make the visit together?"

JD's hazel eyes widened.

"You're worried about your friend. Well, don't be. He'll be out of his misery soon enough. Now let's go."

+ + + + + + +

"Move!"

JD complied, reluctantly. His mind was racing, along with his heartbeat. He couldn't leave Chris...but he had no choice. Chris was still asleep not far away. Out of the corner of his eye, JD could just see him laying on his side, his back to them. JD thought of shouting to him, but Williams would kill him before the sound could leave his throat.

"You're worried about your friend. I can tell," Williams sneered in a low voice. He turned suddenly and fired at Chris's sleeping form.

JD watched in horror as Chris's body jerked, and then went still.

Tears stung the young man's eyes and he fought to hold them back. He'd looked after Chris through all this as much and as best as he could. And now...He shouldn't have brought Chris out here, no matter how much he'd wanted to follow Vin. The others knew the danger and had refused. Once again, JD had messed up, and worse than he ever had in his life.

His shoulders slumped. It no longer mattered if he went with Williams. He just didn't care.

+ + + + + + +

Chris didn't know if it was hours or days since he'd been shot. He had tried to hold on to consciousness but the fierce pain in his side made him breathe faster. And then his breathing just increased the pain.

It was daylight. He was sure of that. There was light and shadow where there had been only darkness before. At times, he'd thought he'd seen pinpoints of light, but he'd been afraid to believe it. He still couldn't make out shapes or colors, but he could see something.

And right now, he most wanted to see JD. Had JD been shot, too? Was he still alive?

Chris got up slowly, putting his hand to his aching side. His hand felt wet and sticky. He couldn't be sure, but he hoped the bullet had passed through. It was so close to his side, it was possible, he reasoned. He pushed it all out of his mind for now, instead reaching for where JD's bedroll should be.

It was empty. Damn!

Chris drew a breath that caused more pain to arrow through his side.

"JD?" he called.

No answer. He tried again, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"JD!"

If JD was nearby, he had to be either unconscious or dead. Chris sat there a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He couldn't see well enough to search for him. He flexed his fingers against the warm stickiness at his side.

He was alone. Alone in the middle of nowhere and unable to see his way to anywhere. Any direction could equally be the wrong one or the right one.

He couldn't stay here, either. One thing was sure, without his sight, or food or water, he wouldn't last long. He had to get help for himself and for JD. Or at least find someone to help bury the kid, if that was what needed doing.

The blond man stood on shaky legs. One of the horses nickered softly. Chris paused a moment to gauge direction, and then started for it, one hand out, the other holding his aching side. He knew he was getting close when he heard the animal move as he neared it. Suddenly he tripped and fell to his knees with a grunt of pain. Whatever it was, it moved slightly.

JD?

Chris put out his hand. No, it was his own saddle and saddlebags. Well, that was something, anyway. Reaching out with his bloodied hand while dragging the saddle with his good hand, he listened carefully as the animal moved restlessly. Chris managed to find his horse at last.

Summoning as much energy as he could muster, he lifted the saddle onto the horse's back. The pain in his side caused him to stop, gasping for air, before he could continue to saddle his horse. His hands shook as his energy drained away, and he hurried as fast as he could. He would need some resources left to get on the horse's back and ride.

He flung his lean body quickly into the saddle before crying out in agony. All this movement was making his injury worse, he was sure, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. With no choices left, he figured he'd just ride till he either found someone or someplace that could help him.

+ + + + + + +

Vin grew apprehensive as each mile brought him closer to town. What would he say to Chris? And would Chris even listen to him? He turned that over slowly in his mind. It didn't matter, he decided. He had to try anyway. Had to make him listen, somehow.

He nudged his horse a little faster, then suddenly slowed to a stop. Ahead in the distance was a lone figure on horseback, and whoever it was seemed to be moving in a strangely aimless sort of way.

Vin pulled out his spyglass to get a better look.

It couldn't be!

It was.

Chris.

What was he doing out here alone? And why was he reeling in the saddle like that?

Vin shoved his spyglass into his pocket and kicked his horse into a gallop, just as Chris toppled from his horse and ceased to move.

+ + + + + + +

JD had lost all track of time. Williams had tightened a loop around JD's wrists. His fingers had numbed long ago as the rope chafed against his skin. He'd been walking most of the day into the hills, his knees threatening to give way with every step. Williams rode behind, using an occasional kick between JD's shoulder blades to urge him on.

But JD's thoughts were elsewhere. It had hurt the young man when he'd accidentally caused the death of a woman in town a while back. But that was overshadowed by this: the death of his idol, his leader. His friend.

Chris had called him a good friend. Good friends don't get friends killed. JD had defied the others to do what Chris wanted, even when the others felt it wasn't in Chris's best interests. The shot still reverberated in his mind, and he'd squeezed his eyes shut against the memory, trying to push it from his mind. Until now, he hadn't given his own fate much thought. Almost absently, he wondered why he wasn't dead, too, but he didn't want to give anyone any ideas.

JD slowed to wipe his damp sleeve across his forehead, when the next kick sent him to his knees. He stayed on all fours, struggling to draw a breath as the world tilted beneath him. He'd been silent and stoic all this time, but at last his resolve gave way. If he was going to die out here, he wanted to know why.

"What do you want?" he gasped at last. "Where are we going?"

"You were looking for my partner," Williams replied. "And it seems you boys aren't going to give up till you find her, so I'm taking you to meet her."

"Partner? You robbed the bank," JD said breathlessly.

"I merely set up your friend, that's all. Pointed 'im out to her. She did the rest. I'm no bank robber."

"No, just a killer," JD accused. "You killed a blind man."

"I'd watch what I was saying, there, boy. You didn't seem me kill anybody. I only shot 'im. If I wanted to kill him, I would have. He'd have slowed us down. Besides, I was merely helping Nature along. The Great Chris Larabee wouldn't have wanted to live like that anyway."

"You should've let him decide that."

Williams ignored the comment. "I figure your other friend oughta come looking for you eventually, once he knows where to look. Give me that hat." He snatched it from JD's head and tossed it aside. "After we've all had our reunion, she can decide what to do with both of you. On your feet, son. Let's keep moving. She's an impatient little lady."

JD struggled to get his feet under him, but they refused to obey. He weaved for a moment, unable to straighten up, then fell to the ground again.

With an exasperated sigh, Williams dismounted and threw JD across the horse before continuing on.

JD closed his eyes. His thirst and exhaustion were now accompanied by nausea from his undignified position over the animal's back. He hoped Williams was right. Now he hoped Chris was dead. Because he couldn't fact the idea that Chris might still be alive and suffering: sightless, wounded, and alone.

+ + + + + + +

Vin reined in his horse beside the fallen man.

"Chris!"

Damn that Larabee. What the hell was he thinkin'? Had he gone loco?

His worry expressed itself in anger as he grabbed Chris by the lapels of the hip-length jacket.

"What the hell are you doin' out here all by yourself?!"

Chris struggled to reply past parched, whitened lips. Vin released him to retrieve his canteen and held it to the dry, cracked lips. Chris drank until he began to choke, and Vin withdrew the canteen.

A cursory examination showed a bullet wound above Chris's hip. Vin rolled him part way over, eliciting a barely-audible moan of protest from Chris. It appeared to have passed through the fleshy part of his side and, although it had bled, the bleeding appeared to have slowed.

"How'd you get this?" said a familiar voice, as hands pressed him back down. Chris squinted. He could just make out light and shadow. And motion. Someone or something moved near him. Perhaps he was mistaken, though. Chris didn't dare hope. After all, it wasn't like he could really see anything.

"Vin? He struggled to sit up. "We have to find JD."

"Easy there. What happened to JD?"

Chris shook his head. "Don't know. Couldn't find 'im. We gotta find 'im."

"Hold on. We will. You keep thrashin' like that, you'll get t' bleedin'."

With an effort, Chris stilled.

"What're ya doin' here," they said in unison, then laughed nervously. Chris winced with pain.

"Was comin' after you," said Chris, his tone serious. "You were headed for Tascosa, weren't you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," said Vin softly. "Thought I had important business needed tendin' ahead o' me."

"Don't you?"

"Way I figger it, I have more important business behind me."

"So you comin' back?" Chris tried to move again and grunted in pain. "Wish you'd decided that before we started after you."

"How'd you get shot?."

"Don't know. We're burnin' daylight. Let's find JD. Now."

Vin helped Chris onto his feet and onto his horse. As they retraced Chris's trail, Vin marvelled to himself at the amount of distance the man had been able to cover.

"We're here, Chris," he said at last. He got off his horse and looked around. "This must be your campsite. Your bed rolls are still here. And JD's horse."

"Any sign of JD," Chris asked anxiously.

"He's not here. Here's your hat." He reached up and put it in Chris's hands. "Chris? There was just you and JD, right?"

"Yeah."

"'Nother set of hoof prints here. And another set of footprints."

"Another rider?"

"Looks like. But if JD's horse is still here, and if JD ain't--" he paused, not wanting to say the word out loud, "they can't have gotten far."

"Then what're we waitin' for?"

+ + + + + + +

The two men rode in silence, Vin leading the way, Chris behind him, and JD's horse bringing up the rear. It surprised Vin that they hadn't come upon JD yet. The bootprints were getting more erratic as the trail continued.

"We're stopping," Vin said suddenly.

"No" came the stubborn reply.

"Ain't up fer debate. Gotta give the horses a rest. And I'm gonna check that bandage of yours."

Chris allowed Vin to lead him to a place to sit while Vin let the horses rest. The sun had gotten brighter, Chris had noticed, and he wondered about that as he ate and Vin ate a little food, but he still didn't want to his or Vin's hopes up for nothing. Vin handed Chris the canteen, then carefully checked the dressing.

"How's it look?"

"Well, I ain't Nathan, but it looks to be healin'."

"Good. Then let's get going."

Vin helped him up and onto his horse. They were both concerned about JD. Since they hadn't found his body, it was reasonable to assume he was still alive. But if he was, time could be running out.

"You said you were comin' back," Chris prompted suddenly as they rode. "Why?"

Vin didn't hesitate. "Face up to what I done. Whether you wanted me there or not."

Chris nodded. "It was an accident. I know you didn't mean to do it."

"That don't make it right," Vin said angrily. "You ain't gonna try t' tell me it don't bother you, bein'...His voice caught with emotion. "...blind."

"I wanted to hate you," Chris replied thoughtfully, "for what you did to me, but I can't." He paused. "So you was headed to Tascosa? Risked gettin' your neck stretched?"

Vin shrugged. "Preferred it to having to live with knowin' I hurt my best friend. Worst thing in the world. But that was the coward's way out."

"An' you ain't no coward," Chris smiled.

"It was eatin' my guts out, but I figgered what you were livin' with was worse. Don't see how you could ever forgive me. And I owed it to you..." Vin felt the skin all over his body tingle painfully as if his insides were exposed.

"Vin, it's not like that now. I think I can-"

"Stop," he said. The soft urgency in his voice ended any further conversation.

"What?"

"The footprints have stopped. Horse tracks are heavier now."

"Two men on one horse."

"Looks like it." Vin glanced around. "Chris," he said in a tight voice. "Found something."

Vin put something in Chris's hands. Chris felt his blood run cold as he identified it.

"JD's hat."

Vin studied the hat in Chris's hands. "Ain't no blood on it. Don't mean he's still alive, though."

"Don't mean he ain't."

"Right," Vin agreed. He paused and looked up at the sky. "Gonna be night real soon. Won't be able to follow the tracks much longer."

Chris began to dismount, then grimaced suddenly as the pain in his side made its presence known. He staggered a little and felt Vin steady him.

"Whoa, there," Vin exclaimed. "I'm gonna get a another look at them bandages." Mentally, he kicked himself for forgetting about Chris's wounded side. Chris hadn't so much as whimpered in all this time. He was probably hurting like hell, Vin thought.

Over the next few hours, Vin had sacrificed one of his shirts to fashion another makeshift bandage and, by now, both men had eaten and were quietly sipping coffee around the fire.

"You're mighty quiet," Chris observed.

"Just thinkin'...This whole stupid thing is my fault," he said bitterly.

"No. It's not," Chris answered him quietly.

Vin didn't reply.

"If that woman hadn't robbed the bank--" Chris began.

"She wouldn't have if I hadn't been so stupid!"

There was a long silence, that stretched out into the dark night that surrounded them.

"Only proves you're human, Vin."

Vin felt his eyes stinging. He blinked and rubbed them with one hand. "Yeah," he said, softly, a catch in his throat preventing him from saying anything more.

"I need ya, Vin," Chris said at last. "We all do. First light--we find JD."

+ + + + + + +

The dawn had barely cleared the horizon when the two men broke camp. The morning felt cool and moist as they prepared to continue their search.

Vin waited till Chris was astride his own horse. He started to take Chris's reins with him as he headed for his own mount.

"Vin, I can take those...I can see...a little."

Vin stopped dead in his tracks, certain he had heard wrong. "You can SEE?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "I see light, shadow...I see movement. That ain't the same as real seein'. But I think I can follow that." He smiled, indicating Vin's horse, then added "Long as you look back once in awhile t' make sure I'm still with ya."

Vin eyed him warily, trying to figure out if Chris was trying to do more than he was really able to. "You sure?"

Chris nodded.

"Then let's ride."

+ + + + + + +

Not too many hours behind, four peacekeepers had been riding a long time. So much so, that they had finally straggled into a single line.

Maybe something was up and maybe it wasn't, but the four men knew they'd sleep better once they had located their companions. Too many people were missing from town for too long, and at the same time: Vin, Chris, JD, and now Williams. And among those, one of them in particular--a certain blind man--should never have left. Buck was trying to follow what tracks he could. It would've helped if Vin was with them, but he wasn't.

Buck hadn't stopped cursing himself under his breath for letting Chris leave with JD. A blind man had no business riding around out in the wilderness. Vin was a grown man who'd made his own decisions and, whether Buck agreed with them or not, that was his right. Chris should've taken that into account and let him go. If he was inclined to come back, he would in his own good time.

"Ahead," Josiah said shortly, pointing. Buck nodded as they headed for the remains of a campsite. The four dismounted and looked around. "Small campsite. Not many footprints. Small fires. Second one looks fairly recent."

The ladies' man nodded. Then his eye caught something. He squatted down to pick it up. "Josiah," he called. The big man stood beside him. "What do you make of this?" Buck handed him some torn bits of fabric. "Looks like pieces of Vin's shirt..."

Josiah studied at them carefully. "Looks like blood on some of 'em. Bandage maybe?"

Buck squinted up at him. "For who?"

"Buck?" Nathan was pointing to a patch of ground by some rocks. "Blood."

Ezra walked over to them. "Looks like a lot of people have decided to travel in one particular direction back there. Shall we join them? If Mr. Tanner needs our assistance, perhaps that's where we'll encounter him."

"And Chris and JD, I hope," said Buck.

Josiah nodded. "Don't we all."

+ + + + + + +

The night had seemed unending to JD, but the day was worse. He had been given some water and a little food, but now he felt sick from the motion of the horse and his head was pounding. He drew in a shuddering breath as the animal finally came to a stop. A hand grabbed his belt and pulled him off, sending him tumbling to the ground.

"We're here," Williams said shortly.

JD stood on wobbly legs and looked around. Here? It was an old two-room cabin, hidden up in the hills and a good distance from anyone who might be remotely considered a neighbor. The building itself looked long-abandoned and ready to collapse, with rotting window frames and chinks between the weather-worn boards. It didn't look like anyplace one would stay for very long. A small shudder passed through him at that thought, as he also realized Williams may have already decided that JD was leaving here alive.

"Inside," ordered Williams, hauling JD to his feet by the rope around his wrists and half-dragging him into the cabin.

Inside, the air was stale, and a heavy veil of dust danced in the sunlight that streamed through broken, dirty windows. Everything looked and smelled of decay. This was no trapper's cabin. The size of the place and the plain, built-in sideboard along one wall suggested a family may have lived here once. But that was clearly a long time ago.

Williams pulled a rickety old chair to the center of the room, and roughly pushed JD into it. Holding the gun in one hand, he loosed the rope around JD's wrists before ordering the young man to put his hands behind the back of chair. Williams quickly re-tied JD and stood back to look at him.

"Well, you look just perfect like that," he said with a leer.

JD swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "Now what?"

Williams pulled out a pocketwatch to check the time. "We wait."

--- The sun was high overhead when Vin stopped his horse. It took a moment for Chris to recognize that Vin had halted, then Chris stopped, too.

"Tracks lead straight to a cabin just up yonder. Can barely see it through the trees."

"You think JD is there?"

"No way o' knowin'," Vin said. "Could be a wild goose chase. But them tracks look like they lead straight to it."

"Then what're we waitin' for?" Chris started to nudge his horse forward, but Vin reached out and caught the reins.

"Just hold it right there. This is as far as you go."

"Like hell, it is."

"Don't argue with me, Larabee. You're stayin' put back here and that's that."

Chris set his jaw in angry frustration. "I ain't stayin' outta this like some cripple."

Vin could tell this was one fight he wouldn't easily win, so he decided to try a compromise.

"Fine. You stay here until I can get up close enough to check it out. Then you can follow me. Think you can watch my back without shootin' it?"

"Try me."

"Couldn't say 'yes', could ya," Vin muttered as he started forward.

He crouched in the brush, squinting ahead. The place looked deserted at first but, as he maneuvered to his right to get a better look at the place, a horse came into view. Someone was inside, all right.

He ducked again as he heard, then saw a rider approach. At first, he thought it was a boy. The rider was dressed in buckskins like his own, hair streaming out from under a flat-brimmed hat. Vin's blood ran cold in his veins and his heart felt as though it has stopped. Someone he never expected to see again had come into full view of the afternoon sun.

'Priscilla.' Or whoever she was. She dismounted, then paused, looking around, then stared in surprise.

Chris was still with the horses, and preparing for a fire fight. He groped in his saddle bags. JD said they were here. They were the reason he'd gone for days now without a smoke. He reached inside, fingers brushing against metal and leather. They were there, all right. He pulled out the heavy gunbelt and, clumsily at first, strapped it on. The palm of his hand rested against the gun's grip, fingers curling over it instinctively.

He squinted ahead. His vision had been slowly but steadily improving. He could almost make out shapes now. Blurry ones, but they there nonetheless. Vin was near the house. Chris could just make out the familiar buckskin jacket.

He squinted. Vin had said Chris was follow him and now he waited for the signal. He squinted still more till his eyes were nearly slits. Vin was beckoning for him to join him.

The time had come. Chris moved swiftly and quietly forward.

+ + + + + + +

Vin had seen Priscilla come to a halt, then look off toward him. For a moment, he thought he'd been seen. Then he realized with a shock that she was looking at something else. She stared for a moment, her hand poised on her gun. Then a small smile crept across her face--one that give Vin chills--and she waved to someone.

Vin glanced back to see who it was. His heart dropped into his boots. Chris. And he was walking straight toward her.

Why in the hell--? Almost instantly, he surmised the answer to that. Chris must have thought Priscilla was him.

Damn! Vin wanted to shout to him, stop him, shoot him, SOMETHING to halt Chris's progress toward the bank robber. What could he do? Chris was heading straight into a trap and there was nothing he could do but watch helplessly.

+ + + + + + +

The four men passed another campsite as they followed the thick trail of horse tracks.

"More of Vin's shirt," said Josiah, scooping up the scraps in one hand.

"Less blood, though," Nathan observed hopefully.

Ezra remained cautious. "If whoever it is has any left."

Buck mounted his horse again. "Then let's keep movin'."

+ + + + + + +

"Anybody inside?" Chris asked.

"Why don't we find out?"

Chris stiffened. It wasn't Vin. It was a woman. Chris didn't know who she was, but he could tell by her tone he should do what she told him. He wondered where Vin actually was as he turned toward the blurry structure in front of him. He approached it slowly, cursing himself silently for getting into such a mess. He stumbled slightly on the steps and continued inside.

+ + + + + + +

Vin cursed as Chris disappeared into the building. Now what to do? That woman had Chris now, and he still didn't know if JD and his abductor were in there. Vin crouched low as if tracking an animal and moved silently toward the cabin. First he needed a closer look. Then he needed a plan.

+ + + + + + +

Chris scanned the inside. There were two other people already in the building, one sitting and one standing nearby.

"What the hell-"

Williams' voice. Chris tensed a muscle in his jaw as he realized that the woman had to be the infamous Priscilla.

"Chris!" JD exclaimed in a voice mixed with surprise and tempered relief. He was happy Chris was still alive, but probably figured it wouldn't be for much longer.

+ + + + + + +

Outside, the building was surrounded by low brush and high weeds. Vin managed to swiftly move close until he was right beside the wall of the cabin. He ducked his head and moved forward slightly toward the window. He could hear low voices inside.

Chris.Williams. JD. And Priscilla.

+ + + + + + +

Williams looked at Priscilla in surprise. "You bringin' in strays, now, Mavis?"

"He was outside," she said shortly. "I see you brought in one of your own. What's he doing here?"

"Following you, I'd expect, m'dear. Figured we finish 'em off and we're free and clear. I hear the Union Bank is looking for a manager in Wyoming." Williams removed Chris's gun and prodded him into a seat, then turned his attention to Chris. He pulled Chris's black jacket open to survey the wound, then nodded, satisfied. "Thought I shot you. Now...where's the other one?"

"Other one," Mavis echoed with concern.

"Tanner. The three of them left town. He's gotta be around here somewhere."

"I came alone," Chris said flatly.

"Sure you did." Williams sent a knee into Chris's wounded side. Chris cried out in searing agony and doubled over to the floor, landing on his uninjured side.

"I brought him here!" JD shouted.

"Shut up, boy!" Williams backhanded him sharply, drawing blood from the corner of JD's mouth.

Chris tried unsuccessfully to sit up. "Leave 'im alone! I told you I came alone!"

+ + + + + + +

As Vin shifted his weight by the window, he did a double take. A door. It appeared that the cabin had an old root cellar. He winced at Chris's sudden cry of pain but used the moment and shouting that followed to mask his careful opening of the old door.

The cellar was tiny and not deep enough for even a boy of 12 to stand up straight in. His hope for using this as an entry to the cabin above was quickly dashed. The only way in or out of the cellar was via the small, rotted door he'd come through. And there was nothing in the cellar except an old, discarded bucket.

Vin continued to study his surroundings as he tried to think of something else. He looked up through the cracks in the floorboards to see JD in the chair and Chris on the floor trying to control his breathing, his face contorted in pain. Time was running out.

+ + + + + + +

"What are we waiting for?" Mavis demanded, her patience ebbing. "If he came alone, then Tanner might not be anywhere near here. If Tanner's not around, I don't want to wait any longer for you to finish having fun. Let's just kill them, take our money, and head for Wyoming."

""No! If there's one of them left, he'll come after us. He's around," Williams said confidently. He nodded at Chris. "Didn't you hear? He's blind. He couldn't have gotten all this way by himself. He had to have help."

"I can see," Chris gasped through gritted teeth.

Williams squatted beside him. With an evil grin, he grabbed Chris by the collar and dragged him back into the chair.

"Oh, you can, can you?" He glanced around the cabin, then pulled out a knife. He stepped over to a wall and carefully peeled off an old piece of newspaper used to paper some of the walls. "Read this, then."

Chris looked at the yellowed paper. The newsprint was just a black, blurry smear. He could make out the lines of print, but even as he struggled to make sense of the words there, he knew he couldn't.

"Can't read," he bluffed.

Williams smirked and moved closer to JD. "You'd better be able to read. Or your young friend here is going to be sorely disappointed. Sorely." He nudged JD's temple with the barrel of his gun.

+ + + + + + +

Vin heard Chris's bluff and Williams' threat clearly. He could just see the ex-bank manager waving his gun close to JD's face.

Vin was out of time.

He surveyed the flooring above him. The dry sink had probably been close to one of the windows. He scanned the boards in the half-light till he saw a patch that looked more rotted than the rest of the floor. He traced his fingers across the softened wood. Vin placed the bucket carefully under the spot, turning it over so he could stand on it.

Time seemed to speed up then, as events unfolded quickly.

With his gun in his hands, he bent his knees, then surged up through the floor, sending wood pieces and splinters flying as he opened fire on Williams.

Chris moved instantly. Ignoring the pain in his body, he grabbed Williams' gun and turned it on Mavis, pulling the trigger at the same instant that she fired at Vin.

+ + + + + + +

When the smoke cleared, two people were dead and two were looking the worse for wear. The two men turned their attention to the cabin door as they heard several footsteps running toward them.

"Buck!" shouted JD.

Chris and Vin lowered their guns, as the others rushed inside.

"Sounds like you two started the party without us," said Buck, recognizing Williams and noticing the woman nearby. "I take it this little lady was Priscilla?"

Vin nodded.

Buck tilted his head to look at her. "Well, she was pretty. Honest mistake any man coulda made."

Josiah finished cutting JD loose. "You boys ready to come home?"

"I'll take care of the money," offered Ezra.

"You do that," Josiah agreed. "We'll still count it when we get back to town."

"On second thought, perhaps JD here can hold onto it."

"Good idea," said the ex-preacher.

Chris turned to face Vin."You're bleedin'," he said suddenly.

Vin glanced down at his sleeve. "It's just a- You can really SEE that? You can, can't you!" Vin's eyes widened and his jaw dropped with shock and delight."I thought you was bluffin' back there!"

"Well, I was," he shrugged. "Still can't read nothin'."

"Not yet," Nathan added. "But if you can see this much, you must be healin'."

"How many fingers," asked Buck, holding up his hand.

"Three dirty ones." With a huge grin, Buck impulsively hugged his old friend and Chris gasped in pain.

"Sit down, Chris. Vin, you too," Nathan ordered. "Got me some patchin' to do. Buck, Josiah, you can give me a hand."

"Nathan, I think JD can help me," suggested Chris. "He's done a good job so far. And I trust him."

Vin sat beside Chris as the others took care of the two dead thieves.

"Glad that's over. Y'know...you shot a woman. I thought you'd never shot a woman."

Chris shrugged. "She gave me a reason."

He sat still as JD helped apply a fresh bandage to the wound, thinking he was never so happy to see such a dusty, ragtag bunch in all his life. He looked at each of them, realizing that these men had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure he was fed, clean, healthy and safe during his ordeal. They had tried to prevent him from following Vin only to protect him and had followed him, JD and Vin for the same reason.

"You guys sure are a sight for sore eyes," Chris said with a smile. And he meant it.

The End