Loss of One
WARNINGS: Possibly disturbing content.
"Everyone OK?" Chris Larabee's eyes swept the deserted street in search of his comrades. His heart lightened a little as he saw each of them appear, one by one, from their various covers.
"Woohoo, but that WAS a bunch of tough ones, now weren't they?" Buck chortled as he popped up from behind the water trough he'd been using as shelter during the firefight of just a few minutes before.
"Amen to that, brother," Josiah concurred as he and Nathan appeared, ducking out of a nearby alley.
"I was quite sure that we were destined for righteous graves during this escapade," Ezra remarked, dusting off his claret-colored jacket.
Chris smiled. Every shootout they encountered, there was always the chance that one or more of them wasn't going to return. Which made every victory all the sweeter.
"Any of them still alive?" JD piped up as he hopped down off the boardwalk, reholstering his two Colt Lightnings.
"I think that there one's still twitchin'." Chris looked over his shoulder to see Vin Tanner, who'd left his cover in the Saloon and was now leaning against a pole, arms crossed loosely in front of him. The tracker motioned with his head to a man lying on the ground a few feet from Chris.
The gunslinger went to the man's side, and sure enough, he was still breathing. There was a bullet in his shoulder, but nothing too life-threatening. Nathan could fix him up in a snap. "All right," Chris said. "Get him to the jail. Nathan, you're going to have to patch up his shoulder, but it doesn't look too bad. Everyone else, spread out and see if there are any others still kicking." The other men nodded and fanned out as Nathan and Josiah lifted the limp man from the street and began to carry him to the jail.
People were beginning to show their faces now. Store owners and plain townsfolk were beginning to file out into the street to survey the latest damage to their town.
Chris paid them no mind, and walked to the Saloon, where he took up a position leaning against the pole opposite Vin. The tracker kept his eyes focused out into the street, as though looking for more trouble to come sprouting out of the dusty ground.
"One more win for the good guys, eh, Cowboy?" Chris said softly, following the bounty hunter's gaze.
Vin smiled and chuckled. "Wonder when the next will be."
"Give it an hour."
They both chuckled at that. Then Chris turned to the younger man. "What doesn't kill you can only make you stronger, right? Well, we must be downright invincible by now."
Then something strange happened.
Vin turned his gaze from the dusty street and looked right into Chris' gray eyes. The tracker's normally sparkling blue eyes seemed to burn with a different light now. "Not quite," he murmured.
And then he coughed.
It was a soft, quiet cough, but Chris felt a coil of fear wrap around his heart at it.
Because a thin trail of blood slipped from the corner of the tracker's mouth.
"Vin?" Chris didn't know what he was seeing. Didn't want to know. //No. No, this isn't happening. No, God, PLEASE, not this!//
But even as the older gunslinger watched, Vin coughed again, and the trail of blood widened a little. "I think you'd best get Nathan," Vin said softly, no fear or anxiety in his voice. The sound was so inherently Vin that, had it not been for the blood, Chris wouldn't have noticed anything was wrong.
But there was blood.
Vin's blood.
"NATHAN!" Chris bellowed, launching himself at his friend even as Vin began to slide down the wooden pole he leaned against. Chris felt a shudder go through him as he saw the thick smear of blood that was left behind on the beam as Vin collapsed against it. The older man took his friend by the shoulders, his eyes searching the tracker for injury. "Vin? Vin, my God! What happened?"
"Chris?" It was Nathan's voice. The gunslinger turned wild eyes on the healer who had come up behind him. "It's Vin," the gunslinger replied in a panic. "He's been hurt."
Nathan took one look at the blood and Vin's collapsed form and immediately knelt down before the tracker, pushing Chris slightly to the side. "Vin?" he said loudly, bringing the tracker's waning attention to him. "Vin,keep looking at me, OK?" The tracker managed a faint nod, and Nathan began to search for a wound.
They found it in the bounty hunter's stomach.
"My God," Nathan breathed as he moved Vin's arms away to reveal the bounty hunter's abdomen.
"What?" Chris' voice was barely controlled terror as Nathan frantically ripped Vin's bloodsoaked shirt open.
Then he saw.
Four ragged bullet holes could be seen, dark patches against the blood-drenched flesh of Vin's stomach. The bounty hunter's crossed arms had hidden the spreading blood from view, and it had soaked both his shirt and coat sleeves.
And it showed no sign of ebbing.
"JOSIAH! I NEED HELP!" Nathan cried.
"You can help him, right, Nathan? You can help him!" Chris couldn't keep the blind fear out of his voice, didn't even try. "Nathan? NATHAN?"
But the healer was paying him no mind. He'd ripped off one of his sleeves and was pressing it against two of the bullet wounds in a fruitless attempt to stop the flow of blood. "Get ready to take his feet," was all he said.
"How do you need my service, Brother Nate?" Josiah asked as he jogged up. But he froze when he saw Vin's collapsed, blood-soaked form. "Dear Lord," he breathed.
Nathan turned worried eyes to the preacher. "We have to get him to my room. NOW!"
Josiah wasted no time in questions. Without so much as another word, he had taken the bounty hunter by the shoulder's as Chris got the feet, and soon they were whisking Vin down the street, ignoring the stares and fingers directed at them by the townsfolk.
They carried him swiftly up the stairs, Nathan leading the way. The healer slammed open his door, walked straight to the bed and ripped off the blankets, leaving only a sheet covered mattress. "Put him down. QUICKLY."
Chris and Josiah did as they were told. The black-garbed gunslinger found himself swept aside as Nathan and the preacher began to work on stopping the flow of blood. Chris winced as he looked at his friend, the red of the blood looking even brighter against his unnaturally pale flesh.
He felt as though he'd been standing there for hours, though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, when a strong hand closed on his arm. He turned flat gray eyes to the intruder, and saw Buck looking back at him.
"Come on, buddy," the usually jovial gunslinger said, his voice hoarse with worry. "Let's let them work." He began to pull on his arm, but Chris pulled away.
"I ain't leaving," the blonde man said, turning back to the frantic action centered around the bed.
But Buck wouldn't take no for an answer, and he gripped even tighter. The eyes Chris turned on his oldest friend this time were not dull, but flashing. "Yes you are, Chris," Buck said. "Nathan and Josiah need to concentrate. They don't need us mucking them up and getting underfoot. Now are you going to come, or do I have to knock your lights out to get you to move?"
Chris glared at his friend for another minute, then felt his muscles loosen. "All right." And they left.
+ + + + + + +
When Nathan and Josiah emerged some time later, they were met by an anxious group of men. JD sat on the windowsill, watching Buck pace back and forth. Ezra stood nearby, idly shuffling his deck of cards, but not paying much attention to the activity. Chris sat in a hardbacked chair, bent over, head bowed, hands clasped before him. At the entrance of the two caregivers, however, he looked up, gray eyes so hopeful it made Nathan's heart ache.
"Nathan?" Chris didn't need to clarify the question. They all knew what he was asking.
The healer sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. "Me and Josiah managed to get the bleeding stopped and he's all bandaged up."
An almost palpable wave of relief passed through the room.
But Nathan didn't smile.
And neither did Josiah.
So Chris didn't either.
"Nathan, what's wrong?" he asked, but was almost positive he didn't want to hear the answer.
When the healer replied this time, there was such a sound of desolation in his voice, it brought all movement to a standstill. "We stopped the outer bleeding, but Vin's still bleeding on the inside, and ain't nothing I can do about that."
There was dead silence in the room for a long minute.
"So what exactly are you saying, Nathan?" Buck broke the silence.
Josiah answered this time. "Brother Nate is saying that Brother Tanner cannot recover."
Chris stood slowly, a black thundercloud ready to burst. "No." It was a simple statement, one which would brook no argument.
Nathan shook his head. "Chris, I tried. Dammit, you KNOW I tried. I just couldn't....." The healer's voice trailed off as his own grief choked off his words. Josiah laid a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder.
Chris cast his eyes around the sad circle of men. Each one held a look of desolation in their faces- utter helplessness.
And it made Chris angry.
No. It made him furious.
"I'm going to see him," he stated, and moved towards the stairs.
Josiah stopped him. "Don't go in there with anger in your eyes, Chris," he advised. "That ain't what a dyin' man should see."
Chris just looked back at the preacher for a long moment before shaking off the restraining hand and mounting the stairs.
part 2
It was too eerily quiet in the sickroom as Chris inched the door open and slipped inside. The still figure in the bed made no move to communicate that he even knew someone was there, and that more than anything made Larabee freeze where he stood. Vin would have known he was there no matter what- the tracker's senses were uncannily sharp. Their absence was painfully clear.
But eventually the gunslinger made his feet move again, and he walked to the edge of the bed. Pulling up a chair, he sat slowly, not wanting to disturb the resting bounty hunter.
But his movement's must have reached Vin on some level, because the tracker's eyes opened slightly, two blue slits against a pale face. A weak smile quirked at the edges of his mouth. "Hey there, Cowboy," he whispered hoarsely.
Chris forced a grin onto his own face, hating the fake feel of it. "Hey there. How you feeling?"
Vin chuckled, then winced at the pain this caused. "I been better."
Chris nodded. "That you have."
Vin's intense blue eyes bore into Chris' face, causing the older gunslinger to look back down to the floor. "What you so grim about, Cowboy?" the tracker asked.
"It ain't nothing."
"Is it because I'm dyin'?" Chris looked up sharply at that, and Vin forced a smile. "I'm sick, not dumb. I can tell when I ain't right. And I ain't never seen Nathan look that glum in all my time knowin' him."
Chris felt a hot lump form in his throat and he swallowed hard. "Vin, I'm sorry-"
"Don't you be apologizin' to me, Chris Larabee." Vin's voice, weak and raspy as it was, held enough power in it to shut the other man's mouth in mid-sentence. "I knew what I was gettin' myself into the first time I picked up that rifle." He paused, eyes closed, and Chris could see the younger man trying to gather his strength.
"Don't overexert yourself, Vin," he said. "You need to save your strength."
"Let me finish," Vin replied, his blue eyes drifting open again. Chris could see the fatigue in their depths, but he said nothing. Vin wasn't one to leave anything unfinished. "I don't want you blamin' yourself cause I couldn't keep myself out of the line of fire. It ain't your fault." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Ain't nobody's fault. You hear me?"
Chris saw that his friend was fighting desperately to stay concious. "Vin, just rest now-"
"DO YOU HEAR ME?" The tracker's voice was laced with pain.
Chris pressed his lips together and gritted his teeth. "I hear you, buddy."
The bounty hunter sank back against his pillows as his tense muscles loosened. "You just remember that," he murmured, already slipping into unconciousness.
Chris took his friend's hand and watched as the blue eyes drifted closed. "I will," he mumbled to the silent man. "I just don't know if I believe it."
+ + + + + + +
The others came by at various points through the night. They spoke occasionally, but generally, they kept quiet. Buck joked with the quiet tracker, who floated in and out of conciousness like a leaf in a whirlpool. Ezra sat by his bedside, quietly shuffling, fanning, and reshuffling his cards. JD sat by the bed and said nothing. There was nothing to be said. Nathan, healer to the end, did his best to make the failing bounty hunter comfortable. And Josiah.
Josiah prayed for him.
But Chris never left.
All through that long night and into the early hours of the next morning, the black-swathed gunslinger sat by his friend's bed, his eyes trained on the younger man's pale face.
He was losing his friend.
His best friend.
Buck would always be one of the most important people in his life, and the others all meant something to him. But Vin understood him on a level none of the others could fathom.
When he lost Vin, he would lose the only person, besides his beloved Sarah, who knew him completely.
So he sat by his friend's bedside and waited for the end.
part 3
"Cowboy?"
Chris' head snapped up at the weak voice from the bed in front of him. Vin's eyes were open and dim, but at least they were lucid.
Chris was at his side immediately. "Vin? You want me to get Nathan? He's right downstairs." He started to move, but the tracker stopped him.
"This is it, pard," he whispered.
Chris looked back at the deathly pale man on the bed. "No. No it ain't, Vin. You said Tanner's were strong. I can't understand you giving up like this."
Vin closed his eyes and minutely shook his head. "This is different, Chris. This ain't testin' my strength." His eyes opened again, and their old intensity was there once again. "It's testin' yours."
"What?" Chris was genuinely confused. Vin moved as though to speak, then gasped as a spasm of pain ripped through his body.
Chris put steadying hands on the younger man's shoulders. "That's it, I'm getting Nathan," he said, and began to move away.
"NO!" Vin's voice was commanding through his gritted teeth. "Let.....me finish." Each word was an effort, and Chris felt that familiar lump begin to form in his throat again.
"Don't......you let them.....break up, Larabee," Vin rasped, his hand in a death-grip around the older man's wrist. "Don't.....you dare. They ain't nothin' without.......each....other. Buck. JD. Ezra........Where would they.....be......without one......another?"
Chris couldn't answer.
"Don't let them.......split up, you hear? They need you.......and.....and you........." His voice trailed off as more pain tore through him, and Chris felt the unwanted tears build in his eyes.
"Vin, that's enough. Just rest now."
"NO! They......need you......and you.....you....need....." The tracker's throat worked reflexively, and he tugged on the older man's arm, pulling him down until Chris' ear was by his lips.
"You need them," Vin whispered hoarsely.
The fingers that dug into the gunslinger's arm loosened.
The body beside him went lax.
The warm breath that slid across his cheek stopped.
And Vin Tanner died.
"Vin?" Chris sat up straight, his eyes searching the younger man for signs of life. "Vin? God, no. GOD, NO! Vin! VIN!" He took the other man by the shoulders and shook his limp form. "Vin, don't you die! You CAN'T die! Vin?? VIN!"
But there was no response.
Chris stared down into the dead blue eyes of his friend- usually so bright, now they were flat and glazed. As he felt tears rise and begin to slide down his cheeks, the blonde gunslinger drew his hand down the other man's face, closing those eyes.
Forever.
And as sunlight began to spill across the horizon, Chris Larabee hung his head and wept.
+ + + + + + +
The gunfire had stopped.
Chris stayed crouched behind the rain barrel he'd used as cover, his gun still cocked and at the ready.
He shook his head to clear the images that ran through his mind. "Everyone OK?" he cried, standing slowly, body tense and at the ready should another bullet come streaking through the now silent air. His heart lightened a little as he saw each of his comrades appear, one by one, from their various covers.
"Woohoo, but that WAS a bunch of tough ones, now weren't they?" Buck chortled as he popped up from behind the water trough he'd been using as shelter during the firefight of just a few minutes before.
"Amen to that, brother," Josiah concurred as he and Nathan appeared, ducking out of a nearby alley.
"I was quite sure that we were destined for righteous graves during this escapade," Ezra remarked, dusting off his claret-colored jacket.
"Any of them still alive?" JD piped up as he hopped down off the boardwalk, reholstering his two Colt Lightnings.
"I think that there one's still twitchin'." Chris looked over his shoulder to see Vin Tanner, who'd left his cover in the Saloon and was now leaning against a pole, arms crossed loosely in front of him. The tracker motioned with his head to a man lying on the ground a few feet from Chris.
The gunslinger let Nathan go to the man on the ground and he crossed to his best friend where he leaned by the saloon. "You all right, Cowboy?" he asked, keeping the quaver out of his voice.
Vin cocked a carefree grin and held his arms out to either side to showcase his torso. "Never been better, pard." His bright blue eyes squinted back at the black-garbed gunslinger. "You doing OK, Chris? You look like a mule just sat on your grave."
Chris managed to force a smile. "Never been better."
Vin smiled back at him, then crooked his head in the direction of the dusty street, where weary townsfolk were emerging to check the state of their bullet-littered town. "I'm goin' to sweep the street, round up any stragglers."
Chris nodded. "Good idea. I'll be right along."
Vin tilted his head towards the other man in acknowledgement and eased off the boardwalk.
Chris watched him go. Absently, he pulled a cheroot from his pocket and slipped it in his mouth. It kept his brain occupied.
He had to stop thinking like this, or soon it would get him or someone else killed.
Usually you didn't have time to think in a gunfight. It was shoot or be shot.
But that didn't stop the images from coming. The frightful pictures as he imagined his friends falling under the rain of enemy fire. He could see it so clearly, every second of it, from the wound to the death.
This time it had been Vin.
Who next?
Ezra? Buck? Josiah?
He shook his head. He had to pull himself out of this. Had to get control of his thoughts again.
But even as he tried, he knew it would be a useless effort. It would keep happening.
To care for someone meant to fear for their welfare.
And as much as he'd tried to keep them away, separate himself from them, Chris knew he cared about these men.
He heard Vin's imagined death rattle once more. //They......need you......and you.....you....need.....//
//...them.//
He shook his head again, freeing it of the phantom images. One more gunfight behind. One more time they all walked away.
How long until one of them was claimed?
"Larabee?" Chris brought his head up to see Vin looking quizzically at him. "You coming, or do I have to handle all the bad guys by my lonesome?"
Chris cracked a smile. For now, he'd just enjoy the time he had with these men.
That was all he could do.
"I'm coming, cowboy," he chortled, stepping down off the boardwalk and removing the unlit cheroot from between his lips. "Someone's got to watch your back, after all."
"I can do that just fine by myself, Larabee."
"Just shut up and let's go find the bad guys."
"What got the bee in your bonnet?"
And they strolled off down the street, alive and kicking once again.
The End