Vin allowed JD to help him walk, albeit shakily, to the stream, but he refused to let him help clean himself up. JD backed off, allowing the injured tracker his privacy, yet kept an eye on his friend never the less. While Vin bathed, JD took his pants and began to wash them in the stream as well.
Vin was glad to be in the water. He wanted nothing else than to wash away the evidence of the crime that had been committed. His ass still burned, and his various cuts stung and throbbed, despite the cold water, constantly reminding him of Jameson's actions. He closed his eyes tight, hoping to banish the image of the man, but his words, 'I'm going to fuck you,' kept repeating in his mind. JD's voice finally broke through and brought him to the present.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned, checking on his friend.
“Yeah,” Vin replied, continuing to splash the water on himself, washing his blood and the filth Jameson left on him, away.
The last thing he did before getting out of the water was to dunk his head under it, reaching back with his hands to scrub his hair.
‘Like reins on a horse.’
He scrubbed harder. When he opened his eyes again, JD was there at the water's edge, waiting to help him out. Once out, he practically collapsed onto the blanket that had been spread out.
"Don't look like you're bleedin' anymore," JD said quietly, embarrassed at having to tell Vin that.
"Thanks," Vin replied quietly, just as embarrassed at having to be told. He pulled the blanket over him, covered his legs and changed the subject, saying, “I got a coupla clean bandanas in my pack. I can use ‘em to wrap up my wrists.”
JD looked at Vin’s wrists, saw the rope burns and cuts on them. He must have been struggling with them for hours, he thought. He brought Vin the colorful bandanas and watched as the tracker tied them around his wounds. He couldn't understand how Vin could be so calm. If it were him that this had happened to, he'd be riding right after the bastard as soon as he got untied. But Vin was practically acting like nothing happened. Hell, he said nothing happened. You'd think he'd just fallen off his horse or something. JD sighed. He was confused. Torn. He wanted to go after the bastard that did this to Vin. But going against Vin's wishes - he couldn't do that, either.
"It's gonna be light soon," JD said, looking at the sky. "If we ain't back in town by mornin', they’re gonna send out a search party for us."
"Buck thinks you're with Casey. Told him I saw you with her so he wouldn't be mad at you for bein' late. Me, they'll figure I just stayed out," Vin muttered.
"Oh, God, Vin," JD practically cried, his guilt over being late for his patrol returning a thousand-fold. "This is all my fault! If I wasn't out late with Casey, you wouldn't have been -"
"No!" Vin interrupted, looking directly at JD for the first time since he’d been untied. "It ain't your fault. And it’s over and done with, JD,” he added, finally getting into his now wet pants.
“So what are you gonna do when you get back to town?” JD asked softly. “You can barely walk. And they’re gonna see the cuts and bruises on your face.”
“I fell off my goddamned horse, okay?” Vin answered quickly, slowly climbing to his feet.
“Are you even gonna be able to ride?” JD asked, seeing Vin limp toward the horse.
“Ain’t got no choice,” the weary tracker replied.
He grabbed the saddlehorn and began to mount the horse. He was forced to stop halfway, when he couldn’t get his right leg up and over the saddle. He was gasping for breath when JD appeared at his side.
“Maybe you could try ridin’ sidesaddle?” JD suggested, hoping Vin wasn’t too stubborn for his own good.
Vin nodded and let him help him up onto the saddle. Seeing the other man shiver slightly, JD grabbed the blanket, shook it out and wrapped it around his shoulders.
“I’ll lead ya. You just hold on,” JD said, grabbing the reins. “We’ll go real slow.”
Vin again nodded to JD’s suggestion. He didn’t trust any words that may come out as he bit back the pain he felt with every step the horse took. He opened his eyes when they stopped. They were at the campsite. He recognized his coat as JD shook the dust out of it and handed it up to him. He gratefully put it on before covering his legs with the blanket.
They rode in silence for a ways. JD looked back at Vin often, making sure he was okay. He knew the tracker wasn’t much of a talker to begin with and usually did have quiet rides with him. But this silence was different. It was awkward. JD didn’t even have the slightest idea of what to say to the man. He was obviously in pain, physically. That wasn’t the problem, though. They’d all been hurt at one time or another. But what do you say to a man who had just been raped? Especially a man you thought highly of. A man who could take care of himself better than anyone you knew. He was constantly in awe with Vin’s ability to survive in the wilderness, tracking both man and beast. And he had that sixth sense about him. He knew things before anyone else seemed to. But what had happened? How did anyone get close enough to the tracker to take him? JD’s jaw clamped down. ‘And just who was it that took Vin?’ he thought. He turned around in the saddle and looked at him.
“Vin? Do you know who it was that did it?” he asked tentatively, hoping Vin might answer this time.
“I did,” Vin whispered, so quiet that JD didn’t hear his response.
JD turned back around in his saddle and sighed at the lack of response. The sun was beginning to rise and Four Corners came into view. Vin made him stop. He watched as Vin turned in his saddle and slowly brought his right leg up and over the saddlehorn, gasping at the movement. He winced in sympathy as Vin closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves and chase away the pain.
“Just get me to the wagon,” he requested through clenched teeth, reaching out for his horse’s reins.
JD nodded and nudged his horse onward. They rode slowly toward town and then into it, taking a direct route toward Vin’s wagon. There were already several people up and about. JD tipped his hat to those he passed by. He silently cursed when he saw that the other five of their group were nowhere in sight. He was hoping that Chris or Nathan would be there and break through Vin's defenses - help him.
Vin was oblivious to the people around him. His eyes stayed focused on the wagon ahead of him as he rode, feeling every step the horse took, feeling every thrust Jameson took him with.
'I'm going to fuck you.'
When they got to the wagon, JD dismounted first. He looked around and stood on Vin’s left.
“All clear,” he said, reaching up, knowing what Vin was waiting for.
Vin grabbed JD’s shoulder and eased himself off the horse with a hiss and several curses. JD caught him as his knees buckled.
“Shit, Vin,” JD whispered. “We gotta get you to Nathan’s.”
“No!” he countered, pulling himself upright. “I’ll be okay. I just need some rest,” he said, his eyes practically pleading with JD.
JD took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh before saying, “I’ll take care of your horse,” ceding to Vin’s wishes.
Vin crawled into the wagon and collapsed on the floor. He woke a little time later to find someone pulling at his pants. He flinched back, raising his arms.
“Easy, Vin. It’s just me,” JD soothed. “Gotta get you out of these wet pants ‘fore you catch pneumonia or somethin’,” he said.
Vin relaxed and let JD help him, cursing his helplessness.
“Shit, Vin, you’re bleedin’ again,” JD swore.
He looked around quickly and grabbed a bandana off a pile of clothes and gently tucked it into the cleft of Vin’s rear end, hoping to stop the bleeding.
“Damn, how many of these bandanas you got, Vin?” he asked, amazed at the tracker’s collection and trying to lighten the mood at the same time.
“Lost track,” Vin muttered. “Every time I find a different color I buy it,” he added.
JD was surprised at himself, realizing that he was only marginally embarrassed about where his hands were. He held the bandana a little while longer before checking to see if the bleeding had stopped.
“I don’t know what else to do for ya, Vin,” he said, moving back away from the tracker.
“Get me a bottle of whiskey,” Vin responded, pulling a blanket over himself. “And keep your mouth shut.”+ + + + + + +
JD reluctantly left the wagon. He’d watched Vin drink almost half the bottle of whiskey he’d brought before the tracker finally passed out. He was able to check Vin’s wounds then and found none of them to be bleeding. He was sorely tempted to get Nathan, now that the tracker couldn’t protest, couldn’t pierce him with those deadly eyes of his. But he’d practically made a promise. Going against Vin’s wishes would be as much a violation of his privacy as the rape had been. Wouldn’t it?
He had just gotten to his room and was about to open the door when Buck appeared in the hallway. JD held in the groan at the back of his throat.
“Well, looky here what the cat drug in,” Buck called, smirking.
“Mornin’ Buck,” JD responded.
“Just getting in?” the big man asked.
“Yes, Buck,” he replied tiredly.
“You know, you’re gonna owe Vin big time for taking your patrol last night,” Buck added, hoping to make the boy feel guilty.
“Look, Buck,” JD began. “We just fell asleep and lost track of time. I did the patrol, just started late.”
“Of course you did,” Buck said in a patronizing tone. “Now you tell ole’ Buck here all the details about you and Casey and I’ll help ya smooth things over with Vin,” he added with a wink.
JD just gave the older man an exasperated look before saying, “I’m going to sleep,” and closed the door in Buck’s face.
Buck wasn’t sure what to think of JD’s behavior. He usually at least blushed at the mention of Casey and any insinuation he'd make about the two together. He chalked it up to being tired and let it go. He met up with Chris for breakfast.
“You seen Vin?” Chris asked. “He was supposed to meet us for breakfast.”
“He’s probably sleeping,” Buck replied. “He took the night patrol for JD,” he added waggling his eyebrows, hoping Chris would get the hint that there was more to the story.
“Alright, I give. What’s up?” Chris asked, taking a sip of coffee.
“JD was out with Casey last night. I saw him this morning and he looked plum wore out,” he practically giggled.
Chris just rolled his eyes and said, “You’ve corrupted the boy, Buck.”
“No one better to do it,” he replied with a wink.+ + + + + + +
Vin turned over uneasily on the floor of the wagon. He’d been lying there quietly, wondering if it had all been some mad nightmare. But the pain he felt when he rolled over told him that it was not. The memory of the assault came flooding back to him and he was instantly nauseous. The half bottle of whiskey hadn’t helped either. He managed to get his pants and boots on and slowly climbed out of the wagon. He held onto the side and steadied himself, looking around the town as he did. Looking up at the sky, he figured it was about mid-afternoon. Pushing off the wagon, he headed for the rear of the boarding house and the privies, hoping he wouldn’t fall down or throw up before he got there.
+ + + + + + +
JD headed straight for Vin’s wagon when he woke up, planning on checking on the tracker.
“Vin? Vin?” he called.
He got worried when he got no response and climbed into the wagon only to find it empty. When he turned to get out, he was met with the expectant faces of Chris and Buck.
“Watcha doin’ in Vin’s wagon, JD?” Chris asked.
“Just looking for Vin,” he replied.
He was about to say more when he saw Vin approaching.
“There he is,” Buck said, nodding towards the tracker.
Chris immediately saw the unsteadiness in Vin’s step and walked quickly to meet the tracker.
“Vin? You alright?” he asked, concerned.
“I’m fine,” Vin drawled, not meeting Chris’s gaze.
“You look like shit, Vin,” Buck remarked. “What the hell happened?” he asked, motioning to the cut and bruises on Vin’s face.
“Horse got spooked and threw me,” Vin replied, looking at the others now, defying them to question his answer. “JD helped patch me up,” he added, holding up one of his bandana covered wrists.
“You sure you’re alright?” Chris asked again.
He looked again at Vin. Something about the tracker’s demeanor was different. He was hiding something, Chris knew, but he wasn’t sure what, or why.
“Maybe Nathan should take a look…” he began to suggest.
“No!” Vin interrupted, probably too quickly, he realized. “I just need some more sleep, is all,” he added and pushed past the three to get back to his wagon.
Buck turned to JD questioningly.
“You didn’t mention meeting up with Vin on patrol last night,” he remarked.
“You didn’t ask,” JD responded before heading toward the livery, escaping any more questions.
Buck was about to go after him when he felt Chris’s hand on his arm.
“Just leave him, Buck,” he said. “Something happened last night. I don't know what, but for right now, it’s between JD and Vin. Let’s wait and see what happens.”
Buck nodded, but it was obvious he was reluctant to stay out of it.+ + + + + + +
Vin collapsed to the floor of the wagon, breathing heavy, squeezing his eyes shut. He’d hated lying to Chris and Buck. But like he’d told JD, he didn’t want anyone else to know he’d been taken. He pounded his fist to the floor, not wanting to think about it anymore. He lifted his hand from where he’d hit the wagon’s floor and saw the blood on it. Oozing down through the bandana wrapped around his wrist, the blood dripped to the floor, next to another blood soaked cloth.
‘I’m going to fuck you.’
He grabbed the bottle of whiskey he’d started that morning and began gulping it, burning Jameson’s words away with it. A few minutes later, the bottle was empty and Vin Tanner sat alone in his wagon, crying silently.+ + + + + + +
He walked slowly back to his wagon carrying another bottle of whiskey. Part of him knew the whiskey wasn’t doing him any real good – all it did was make him sleep or throw up. Sure, it kept away the physical pain for a while, but it also kept him away from what he really needed – the other six. Looking around, he saw Chris, Buck and Josiah sitting in front of the jail. He wanted to throw the whiskey bottle away and go talk to them. Just like he used to, just a few days ago. But a few days ago he was a different man. He wasn't someone who let himself get taken by another man. He wasn't someone who hid from his friends in a bottle of whiskey trying to decide whether he should drink himself to death or just put a bullet through his head. But he was hurting too much and he knew he’d never last in front of them. They'd find out what happened to him. Find out that he wasn't the man they'd thought he was.
+ + + + + + +
JD watched from his window as Vin climbed into the back of his wagon with yet another bottle of whiskey and sighed. He’d never known Vin to be a big drinker. He didn’t even think he’d ever seen the tracker the slightest bit drunk. Not until a few days ago, anyway. It wasn’t as if JD couldn’t understand. He’d personally known how whiskey could take away pain - make one oblivious to it. But JD had seen too many people never give up the whiskey, even after the pain was gone, only to fade into nothingness. He looked down at the jail, saw the others watching Vin as well. They knew the tracker was in trouble, too. They’d been asking him questions. Trying to find out what happened. He hated lying to them. But he didn’t want to betray Vin’s trust, either. And it was getting a lot harder to avoid them. He turned when the wagon’s flap closed and collapsed onto his bed.
+ + + + + + +
“So?” Buck began, looking at Chris. “When’s the last time you saw a man get lost in a bottle for fallin’ off a horse?” he asked.
“Ain’t none of our business,” Chris replied.
“Ain’t it?” Buck retorted quickly. “How can we depend on them with Vin drunker than a skunk and JD lost in a hayfield somewhere half the time?” he asked, frustrated.
“A man’s gotta deal with his problems on his own, if he wants the right solution,” Josiah put in.
“Not you, too?” Buck balked. “Can’t you see that something’s wrong? That as friends, we need to help them?” he added.
“I’ve tried,” Nathan said, sitting down to join the group. “Every time I go see him, see if he needs any liniment or somethin’, he just tells me ‘I’m fine. Ain’t the first time I fell off a horse.’”
“Buck,” Chris began. “I know you want to help. I do too. But for some reason, I don’t think this is something we want to nose into unless they come askin’ for help,” he finished, staring Buck down, making sure he got his point across.
“Fine,” Buck ceded, but still not happy. “I’ll give ‘em two more days before I beat it outta one of ‘em,” he added, half-seriously.
The others just laughed, but agreed that they’d want to be there when he did it.+ + + + + + +
Vin sighed. He knew Chris was suspicious. Buck, too. He wondered how JD was holding up. He felt instantly guilty at the thought of the boy. He knew JD had only wanted to help him. Hell, even he knew he really did need Nathan’s help. He’d woken up with a fever this morning, knew some of the wounds must have gotten infected. But Spirits!! It was bad enough that one person had seen him exposed, hurt, and violated. He took a swig of the whiskey. And another.
He woke up several hours later, feeling miserable. Every time he thought he’d make progress in the healing department, something would happen. He’d move the wrong way. He’d throw up. Or worst yet, have to take a crap. That was why he’d stopped eating. He was opening the bottle of whiskey again when he heard JD’s voice.
“Vin? You in there?” he called, opening the wagon’s canvas flap.
“What do you want, JD?” he asked him, without looking.
“You gotta come out, Vin,” he replied. “The others are startin’ to ask questions. They know you didn’t just fall off your horse.”
“And just how do they know that?” Vin snapped.
“You ain’t actin’ like yourself,” he answered defensively. “Anybody can see that.”
“I don’t feel good,” the tracker stated.
“I know that, Vin. But if you want to keep this a secret, you better start actin’ normal,” JD countered.
Vin looked at him accusingly.
“I ain’t gonna tell ‘em, Vin,” JD said. “But I think they’ll be able to figure it out on their own pretty soon, if they haven’t already.”
Vin knew JD was right. He put down the bottle and put on his old gun belt and hat before climbing stiffly out of the wagon. After looking tentatively around the street, he followed JD to the saloon. Vin watched as the familiar faces talked and drank around him. JD had ordered dinner for both of them, but his sat untouched in front of him. He half listened to the small talk JD made, not really caring about what was going on.
“Nathan got a couple of new medical books on Monday,” JD spoke. “He’s been holed up in his room practically all week with the things. Josiah got that broken window fixed in the church, good as new.”
Buck and Ezra chose that moment to stop by the table.
“Ah, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra said, sitting down. “Good to see you. I trust you are feeling better, now?”
“Yeah, Ezra,” he replied, barely meeting the gambler’s gaze.
“Yeah, Vin,” Buck said, clasping the tracker’s shoulder. “Good to see ya up and around. If you’d stayed in that wagon any longer I woulda started to suspect you had a woman in there with ya. And speakin’ of women, I got my own to take care of,” he finished, quickly weaving his way through the tables over to the bar.
“Buck’s got a new girl to chase,” JD explained. “She started a couple of days ago. Miss Emma sure is pretty, too,” he continued before Vin interrupted, grabbing the younger man’s lapels and demanding to know where the woman was.
“Over there, next to Buck,” JD replied, confused at Vin’s interest in the woman.
Vin looked around the room quickly before spotting her, then got up before JD could ask any questions. He walked up behind her and grabbed her arm.
“Excuse me, Buck,” he said as he practically dragged the woman out the front door of the saloon.
“Sure, you finally come outta that wagon of yours, and what do you do? You steal my girl!” Buck called after him.
JD and Ezra were at Buck’s side by then, all with confused expressions on their faces. They went to the door and watched the pair.+ + + + + + +
“Why Mr. Lawman,” she said, pulling her arm free. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Where’d they go?” he asked, practically growling through his clenched teeth.
“Now why should I answer that?” she asked, reaching around and giving his ass a squeeze, making him wince.
“Because I can make or break your career in this town,” he replied, menacingly.
“Well, it seems that I could do the same thing to you,” she responded, purposely running her fingers through his hair, smiling as she saw him flinch and shudder at the touch. “I’ll make a deal with you, Mr. Lawman,” she continued, stepping in closer to Vin. “You pay me a little bit every week and I’ll not only tell you where they are, but I won’t tell anybody what a good fuck I heard you were,” she offered, pulling at the ends of his hair.
He gave her some money.+ + + + + + +
The other three in the saloon watched the exchange curiously. None had ever seen Vin pay for a woman.
“Ooh, JD!” Buck exclaimed. “Did you see the way she grabbed his ass?! Now what’s he got that I don’t?” he asked, upset that Vin seemed to have accomplished in five minutes what he hadn’t in over three days.
“Long hair?” JD guessed, seeing the woman run her fingers through Vin’s.
“Or is it that he’s so subtle?” Ezra put in, amused.
“What the hell?” Buck exclaimed, confused. “He gave her some money, but now he’s just walkin’ away from her.”
“Here she comes,” JD said, shushing Buck and dragging him away from the door.
Buck looked to the other two, his confusion even greater, as Miss Emma found another customer.+ + + + + + +
Chris watched the young tracker leave the saloon porch. He, like the others, had seen the unusual encounter between Vin and the new saloon girl. He followed Vin to the livery and saw the tracker collapse onto a pile of hay. He walked in, silently surprised that Vin didn’t seem to notice his arrival.
“Vin?” he called and was even more surprised that he had startled him. “Now that’s a first,” he remarked.
Vin looked up at the gunslinger expectantly, but did not say anything. Chris couldn’t miss the dark circles under his friend’s eyes, let alone the absolute emptiness in them. He also noticed the slight sheen of sweat brought on by a fever on his forehead. He crouched down and picked up a piece of hay, twirled it between his fingers.
“What’s going on, Vin?” he asked.
“Nothin’,” he replied.
“Come on, Vin,” Chris implored. “Talk to me.”
“Ain’t got nothin’ to say,” he said, twirling some hay between his own fingers.
Chris sighed loudly, frustrated at his inability to get through to his friend.
“Dammit, Vin!” Chris exclaimed. “Somethin’s buggin’ ya! You been holed up in a whiskey bottle nearly three days now. You look like shit!”
“I’m still sore from the fall,” Vin retorted, his defenses heightening.
“You’re sick with fever!” he retorted. “Why won’t you see Nathan?” he asked only to be answered with silence. “What happened the other night, Vin?” the gunslinger asked, gentler now.
“I told ya! I fell off my horse!” Vin answered, painfully rising to his feet, ready to leave.
Chris grabbed Vin’s arm and held him back, saying, “I want to help,” with his eyes as much as his voice.
Vin pulled away from the gunslinger’s strong grip and stormed out, not responding to Chris’s plea.+ + + + + + +
Vin heard his name being called. He rolled over, knocking over the empty bottle that was next to him.
“JD, what do you want?” he slurred, feeling the effects of the alcohol combined with fever.
“Chris wants us all to meet him at the jail,” he replied.
The tracker sat up with a groan, felt the whiskey slosh around in his stomach and collapsed back onto his bedroll.
“Vin!” JD shouted. “Come on! It’s important – a stagecoach got robbed.”
“Can’t ride yet,” Vin responded.
“I know you’re still hurtin’ but we need you,” the boy begged.
But Vin did not respond. JD closed his eyes, wished he knew what to do.
"Fine, Vin," he said angrily. "I’ve tried to help you. I’ve done what you said. But I can’t take much more. You’ll have to deal with Chris on your own when he comes to get you."
He left the wagon and went to the jail to meet the others, hating himself for the way he'd yelled at Vin.
Seeing JD come into the office, Chris started the meeting. When he noticed Vin’s absence, he stopped short.
“Where’s Vin?” he asked, looking directly at JD.
“In his wagon,” he replied, not meeting Chris's gaze. “I told him you called a meeting.”
“It’s not like Mr. Tanner to absent himself when there is work to do,” Ezra remarked.
“Chris,” Buck began, giving him a meaningful look.
Chris put up his hand, stopping Buck from saying anything further.
“I’ll take care of him, Buck,” he said, before continuing and telling the others about the telegram he’d gotten from Judge Travis and the stagecoach robbers they’d be going after.+ + + + + + +
Vin sat up against the side of his wagon. Pistol in hand, he played with the weapon. He’d heard men talk of a game called Russian Roulette, putting just one bullet into a gun and spinning the chamber so that one couldn’t tell where the single round was. It was supposed to be a test of manhood or something like that. Well, he felt nothing like a man at this moment - hiding himself away in his wagon, drowning in whiskey, bleeding inside and out. At the same time, he felt quite like that single bullet – alone, waiting for just the right moment to explode, to kill. He put the gun up against his temple, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked harmlessly.
“Not this time, I guess,” he muttered, taking another swig from the ever-present whiskey bottle. “Maybe later, after Chris and the others are gone,” he added, adding more bullets to the gun.+ + + + + + +
He was rudely awakened when the bucket of water hit his face. He sat up quickly, reaching for his gun. A hand quickly grabbed his wrapped wrist, tightened around it. He cried out as he looked up to see who the owner of the hand was.
“It’s time wake up and ride, Vin,” Chris said.
“One less ain’t gonna make a difference,” Vin replied, lying back down as he recalled JD’s earlier visit.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” the man in black countered. “We need a tracker. Sheriff Dane lost the trail. Thinks one of the bad guys is a tracker or scout or something.”
“I won't do you no good. I can't,” Vin began, only to be interrupted.
“You’re gonna ride whether you like it or not!” Chris shouted, pulling Vin up by his shirtfront. “I don’t know what the hell happened to you the other night, but I do know that two little girls got raped and their ma and pa murdered, before the three bastards took off with the family’s life’s savings. Now you’re gonna sober up and get your ass out of this wagon and then we’re gonna find ‘em!”
Vin shut his eyes tight against Chris’s words. He knew instantly who those three bastards were. Jed, the tracker. Charlie, the robber. And Jameson, the rapist.
“Two little girls?” Vin whispered.
Chris softened at Vin’s words, hearing the tremors in his voice.
“Yeah,” Chris replied, letting go of the younger man’s shirt. “I think they were brought to Eagle Bend. Kin’s on their way.”
“When do we leave?” Vin asked.
“An hour,” was the answer.