Prologue: coulda , woulda, shoulda . . ..

Wet and defeated, Vin sat awkwardly on a tired horse. He hunched into the damp weight of his coat and tried to ignore the wet hair trickling down his neck. His head and face hurt and he'd rather be anywhere than where he was. He cursed the heavy rain for washing out the tracks. If only he'd pulled himself together and come out to check on Chris earlier. Now he had no hope of telling where he'd gone. And he wondered if Chris was ever going to come back, if he'd have the chance to say he was sorry. That he wished his words back with all his heart. It wasn't as if he and Chris hadn't had an angry word or two before. But this had been different and Vin hated to see the effect his cruel words had on the gunslinger, when he was still feeling so low.

It was Vin's turn to feel low as he remembered the hard shove and angry words from Buck as he showed how *he* felt about it. Saying such things to Chris and then not doing anything about it until it was maybe too late. But they both knew if they'd gone to see Chris he wouldn't have listened, just aimed his gun at them. And so they blamed themselves for Chris' disappearance and that left the other peacekeepers wondering what on earth was going on.

Vin thought back- things had been going fine in the week or more since they'd rescued Chris from the prison in Jericho . . ..or so he remembered . . ..

0o0o0o0

Rescuing Chris . . ...and after

Sure they had all felt guilty that they had waited to look for him, long past the original three days Chris had said he'd be away. Mary prodded them into action after ten days and again four days later. She pushed even though the other six thought that Chris could handle himself. Buck didn't think there was any need to particularly worry; he was trying to cut his old friend a little slack after the great upset with Fowler.

They should have all known better that in the constantly changing pattern and swirl of good and bad people in ever expanding towns that something bad was bound to happen sooner or later- even to Chris Larabee.

They had all been horrified at what had happened to their leader in the prison and the condition that they found him in, hardly recognising the lean bearded figure in the shoddy, mud splattered prison uniform.

It made Ezra glad he'd managed to escape such barbaric conditions by the skin of his teeth, silver tongue and silver dollars. Mentally he promised himself not to do anything that might put him behind bars and a sentence.

Nathan, although shocked at Chris' state, was no longer surprised at the cruelty man could inflict on his fellow man, whatever the colour of his skin. Many an innocent had been wrongfully accused on the words of another vengeful man.

Josiah could only wonder at the thought of getting money from ordinary hard working decent folk, could make the Sheriff and Warden do for want of more of it. Men in law abiding positions should not abuse it so.

JD had never seen anything like it. He guessed prison would be hard, but not like that.

Buck had seen plenty of bad things during the war and shared many of them with Chris, but he found that he was shaking with anger as they frantically held off the guards. He ordered Nathan and Vin to look for his oldest friend.

Vin spotted him, staggering away from a grated hole and two bodies lying on the ground. Vin raced to meet him and then return to Nathan who had been shot after tangling with Quince. Vin checked the bodies only to reel back as he saw the horrified, strangled look on one, and Quince all bloody and dead from a knife wound. Vin helped Nathan and Chris to where he said the infirmary was. Chris lurched beside him, still trying to get used to the lack of irons on his feet making him do a sad little shuffle walk . . .

The peacekeepers rounded up the remaining guards from the burning office and locked them up for the night. They checked the bodies and put them aside until morning. They rallied round finding dry towels and food for Chris, whilst helping the prison ‘doctor' with Nathan. Vin kept looking at Chris, the uniform, the beard and his blonde hair darker with the rain and mud combining to become not-Chris. It was very unsettling and Chris was too quiet which didn't seem right at all.

Chris gave the guys the gist of what had gone on in the prison and confirming that Philips was a good man and they ought to think of putting him in charge. He fell into an exhausted asleep, barely able to struggle out of his cold wet things and into a dry uniform. The rest of the evening was spent cleaning up and sorting out the books and paperwork and help mind the rest of the prisoners.

Early the next morning Chris managed a brief wash of sorts. As badly as he wanted a real long soak in a tub- he wanted to get out of the prison as fast as he could, and he didn't want to get the stitches, such as they were, wet again. He was pleased to find his own clothes put out for him as he dried off. They felt slightly odd, grubby but good .Now he was ready to ride away from the hell hole that had been his life for the past few weeks. "Boys, let's get the hell out of here!" He was glad to be going even if the riding and bright sunshine made his head pound and his bruised body ache.

Nathan felt bad because he wasn't able to check Chris out as thoroughly as he'd have liked when they first found him in the prison and not for a day or so after that. It was just one of those things that he himself was wounded. Nathan didn't doubt Buck or Vin's treatment of Chris on the trail and back to their town. It was just that he liked to see and judge for himself- he was after all a healer and had patched plenty of their wounds.

He knew what to look for and worried that no matter how good the intent of the prison doctor, the conditions were bound to be rough and dirty. Not every one was as scrupulous as he liked to be about washing his hands and using clean thread and bandages.

Chris had seemed to be fine, healing well -as far as he could tell. Chris didn't say much, but then he didn't expect him to. Vin had been at his side most of the time since he'd been ill when they got back to town, keeping him cool, giving him water. Nathan sighed, massaging his own aching wound. Things had to be pretty bad and desperate before these men would admit something was wrong. Being a man with a reputation was all well and good but not if you were almost dying for want of some pain relief or just plain doctoring.

Life in town when they returned was quiet, which was good as they all needed a respite from this latest adventure. Nathan slowly healed and they all tried to stop Chris from over exerting himself- trying to be normal, trying to get on with life, like his incarceration never happened.

'Doc' Simmons had mentioned to the other six that Chris had been put in the 'hole' once or twice. Vin had seen it in the dark, they'd all seen it come sunup. They didn't dare ask and Chris Larabee wasn't going to tell.

Hiding from himself and the others, Chris retreated back into a quiet desperate shell that even Vin couldn't crack.

Back home in town again Chris had little energy left, he was pretty starved by the time they had rescued him. Forcing him to eat at every opportunity, whilst trying to recover from his wounds didn't seem to be working. He just couldn't keep enough down. It just made him mean and desperate to flee, but knowing that doing so would only make his six friends over anxious again. They wouldn't let him alone; afraid he might disappear on them.

Chris was fed up, but not because he had been rescued. No man should be annoyed at friends who come looking for you, watching your back, even if it was a week or so late. He had tried so hard to escape the moment he arrived in the prison only to be brought down by a vicious blow to the back, falling off the horse into the dirt. He had tried to get word out, but that was before he realised something fishy was going on with the Warden as well as the so called Sheriff. His men had come looking after all and found him. For that he was grateful. Six months or more ago he'd have welcomed death in any form, as long as he could fight, shout and cuss first. But things had begun to change since he and six others had formed a loose partnership defending the town.

No, it was the aftermath. And he was sick and tired . . .of being sick and tired. And his heart and mood was as black as the clothing he continued to wear years after he'd lost his family. He'd figured Nathan's wound needed more care and attention on the return home than his did. He managed to fend the others off for a while, but it had been obvious to the others on the ride home that Chris wasn't up to snuff. It all began to catch up with him. He dozed off and just about fell off his horse. At least that's what he told himself.

0o0o0o0o

Previously---The ride home from Jericho . . .

Chris woke up with a start, head aching and his heart pounding, unsure where he was. He rolled over and out put a hand to push himself up; a figure appeared out of the dark. He scrabbled for his knife but couldn't find it, his mind returning to the Warden taunting him and the life in the Sheriff's eyes dulling as Chris had stabbed him. Chris' mind still reeled from the memory of the snake landing in the hole, the rattle and his body's reactive jerk away from the reptile.

"Whoa, it's me Chris," said Vin.

"Where..? What are we doing? "

"Resting up for a spell. You're done in."

"'m fine. Want to get home."

"Leave it til mornin', it's late now."

"No! Let's go."

"Nathan needs the rest too," Vin wasn't playing dirty, just telling the truth and it worked.

"Oh." and Chris got up anyway. Vin stood there ready to anchor his wavering friend as his world tilted and spun.

"You need food and rest, cowboy." Vin said as Chris grabbed at his shirt and Vin held onto a too thin arm briefly before Chris took off again.

"Not hungry." The way he felt he didn't think he'd ever be hungry again.

"Hey stud, good to see you up. How you doing?" Buck called softly from the other side of the fire. The others were on watch, asleep or checking on Nathan.

"Fine." Behind him Vin rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Where you off to in such a darned hurry?"

"Well, you forced all that water on me on the ride out so . . .." Chris gestured towards some rocks and bushes.

"Ah . . ."

Truth was Chris didn't need to go that bad, he felt hot and sweaty and unsure of himself. It was quiet, too quiet after the noise of the prison camp, the shovels against the earth and picks breaking stones and the guards beating on some prisoner. Some space and cooler air might help, he thought as he wandered off a few yards. He dutifully watered a bush anyway, and even that hurt. God damn Warden and his friends were too ready with those heavy batons. His back ached like mad. He stood staring out at the night sky spread in all her finery.

Chris was annoyed with himself for getting caught so easily by the crooked sheriff. Should never have turned his back on him in the bar. He had been used to hard work, he had, after all, built the small house and corral with Sarah. But the prison life- stone breaking, digging dirt and making bricks was hard on poor rations and really painful with his stitched slash wound and bruises, not to mention the shackles round his ankles and wrists.

And then there were the long days and nights in the 'hole'.

Alone with himself in the dark. Not always good company these days and never a good idea at the best of times. One time a year or so back he'd overheard some out of towners talking about him in the saloon –

‘Why's he so mad all the time?'''

‘He ain't mad.'

‘Well, he's sure got a mean way a bein' happy' . . . it was a good description he thought.

Chris didn't like to remember his time in the hole. He'd been fit but bruised when he went in there, after getting in the Warden's face. But after a day or so, he felt really bad and he knew it had to be more than the poor rations they grudgingly threw in. Damn, but he really missed his whiskey and a decent smoke. It made the cold and damp nights harder to bear. He got to thinking way too much. The bad dreams and shakes weren't helping any.

After eight days in the hole, Larabee was a slighter, shakier bearded shadow of his former self. And that bastard Warden knew it. Most of the shakes had gone by then and all he wanted to do was get out alive. He should have been hungry as all hell but he wasn't. The cook spitting in the food and then the stabbing after soon saw to that.

Chris had only been doing what he thought was right, he told Buck and the others- standing up for the innocent watch seller . . .

He figured he didn't need to tell Buck and the others that he'd gone off in a mood, looking for a bit of oblivion. Cut loose for a day or three- that had been the plan. He didn't tell them he hadn't cared that Jericho was a real nasty spit of a town. He was all ready for something and nothing when the watch seller turned up. Chris was polite and ignored him right up until the guy tried to get him interested in maybe buying a watch for ‘someone special'. He was just going to tell the man he didn't have a special person any more and to leave him the hell alone, when the sheriff came in with his fake paper and stupid story about the robbery in Landon. Push came to shove and the watch guy wasn't going to last two seconds, unless he did something. So he did.

And then there was Inmate 46, unable to work because he was ill and or injured and being forced to do so anyway. He couldn't seem to turn his back on that either. In doing so he incurred the wrath of the mean spirited warden and Chris, being Chris, shouted and pushed back.

At least Simmons was able to patch him up. He could remember the feel of every one of those crude stitches going in, the needle sliding through his torn flesh. No laudanum or carbolic and only a swig of rye to drink before hand, which he lost soon after. He remembered the sting as the ‘doc' gleefully pressed the wad of spit and alcohol over his wound. At least when he went back to get his head seen to, he got a good drink off Simmons that time . . .

Chris weaved his way back to camp and the others, stopping to check on Nathan. Worrying them by the way his legs buckled and dumped him on his knees.

"Nathan going to be okay?" he asked frowning.

"Just fine with God's providence, our friend's own strength and potions," grinned Josiah.

"Good . . .good. Wouldn't want anyone else to die because of my mistakes." Chris said bitterly. Behind him Buck and Vin exchanged an anxious look.

Nathan opened his eyes at the familiar voice.

"What's..? Chris? Sum thin wrong?"

"Nope."

"Need... look at you". Nathan tried to sit up, but was pushed back with a grimace and was fed a drink. "Urrgh, what was that?"

"Your best potion, Nathan. Now you know how we feel!" chuckled Josiah.

"Ha, funny . . . gi' some to Chris . . ." he murmured, his eyes sliding shut as Josiah rechecked his wound.

" I'm fine "said Chris and painfully pushed himself upright and tottered back to his own bed roll and sat on the ground leaning against his saddle. Vin twitched the blanket over him and passed him a cup. Chris peered and sniffed it first.

"It's just water, Larabee. Food?"

Chris shook his head numbly.

"Bet the food weren't that great. You should eat." Vin urged.

Buck appeared at his side with a few choices. ‘Damn', Chris thought, he was being double teamed. They must really be riled up. Chris decided he hadn't the energy for the bread and cheese but the apple might work. He couldn't stop the flinch as Vin's sharp knife glinted in the firelight as he cut it in two, checking it was okay inside.

They moved away, busying themselves with the fire or bedroll, but Chris knew they were watching him - afraid he'd disappear if they didn't see that he was physically there. They watched as Chris' chewing slowed and he drifted into sleep, his eyes closing then opening and finally losing the struggle altogether. His other hand still clutching the uneaten half of the apple.  Vin gently removed it.

Time passed, but Chris didn't sleep for long, jerking upright at the sound of low voices across the camp and Josiah digging into Nathan's pack. "Huh?" blinking he did a quick visual sweep that all was as it should be, trusting the others to watch his back because he was just too damned tired. His stomach roiled uneasily and his side throbbed. Despite that his eyes slid shut again.

Some time later he woke up, thirsty. Blinking his eyes open once more, Vin was sitting next to him looking worried. Chris wondered if he'd said or done something while asleep. He took a gulp of water and re-capped the canteen.

"Why don't cha lie down Chris? Be more comfortable, get more rest"

Chris just looked at Vin like he was mad. Rest? He'd forgotten what that was any more.

"Got used to sittin' upright," he said before he could stop himself . . . but he did slide over and lie down with a barely suppressed groan and involuntarily grabbed at his side. His sore head didn't take kindly to the change in position and he took a few deep breaths to push the sick feeling back.

"Ya hurt?"

"Warden took to beating me. It's nothing, just let me be." Chris mumbled, irritated at himself at the same time. Vin was only trying to help. And he hadn't lied exactly, just not told him everything. Vin didn't know that he'd spent far too many nights sitting upright in the hole. That thought made him shiver. What would they think of him when they found out he'd sliced his own belly to evade the Lawless brothers like some coward? That in the madness of the hole the first time he'd thought about Vin's $500 bounty that would free him but kill his friend . . .mad thoughts... didn't mean them . . .

"Okay "said Vin, but Chris could tell he didn't think so, because he added another blanket, donated by Buck.

"We got your back pard" Vin reassured him, hoping that this would let Chris sleep properly, not the restless shifting about he was doing.

"Thanks." another breath or two and Chris slept.

Once again it didn't last long, Vin didn't like the way he seemed to be hurting and sweating. Suddenly Chris came to and hurriedly crawled off the bedroll, not getting very far before he threw up the water and half apple he'd consumed earlier. Exhausted from the dry heaves and everything that he'd been through, he rolled over onto his aching back trying to pull himself together.

He sensed someone coming and cracked open one eye, squinting against the firelight. Vin with the canteen of water. He struggled onto one elbow, took the canteen and swilled his mouth, then spat it out. Gingerly he drank some more water and accepted a hand and a tug upright. Vin scuffed dirt over the mess Chris had made. No comments, no jokes, just got on with things. Chris liked that about him. No-one else seemed to notice; even Buck wasn't getting into his face.

He wanted the night to be over. He wanted to be back in town, where he knew how things were. Or even better at his cabin, but he figured they wouldn't let him go there just yet. He just wanted things normal again. He wanted a shave and a long hot bath and an even longer drink. He'd just have to wait for those things. He didn't feel good at all. And each time he closed his eyes he could see and hear the warden yelling and shouting at him. Chris could remember the thud of his baton against his legs and back. His head throbbed nastily from the hit he'd taken the other day from the Warden. It hadn't been easy trying to rest in the hole and when he wasn't in the hole he had to be wary of other prisoners trying to steal his boots or chunks of bread that he'd hoarded. That kept him awake a lot of the time too.

He desperately needed rest but it wouldn't come. He was exhausted and strung out and couldn't sleep. He began to wonder if he was imagining the whole thing. A tiny voice laughed and sneered at him ‘you're still in Jericho , you fool!' That was another reason for waking up . . .just to check.

Daybreak finally arrived and Chris managed some food but wasn't trying very hard. He ignored the pointed looks that Buck and Vin gave him. He was glad of the water though. He felt the others eyes on his back as he awkwardly strained to get on Pony, lacking his usual fluid grace.

"Let's go home," he ordered, aware that Buck and Vin were slightly behind on either side of him. *We got your back, pard*. Josiah followed JD with Nathan and Ezra and then himself and his personal guard at the rear. Chris let JD lead the way; it stopped the young sheriff from asking him questions and trying to tell him the three legged dog joke in a desperate attempt to cheer him up. He'd heard it before and it had been funny when Adam said it . . ..

As their town drew closer, he grew more anxious to see it, to see if it was the same. It had to be, he hadn't been gone that long- it just felt like forever. They'd made another stop or two for Nathan and each time Chris felt his heart race and sweat pool, though he tried to hide it.

By the time they rode down the main street to Nathan's rooms above the livery, he was barely conscious and gripping his reins and saddle horn so tight, Vin had to prise his fingers off one by one. After that everything was a jumble. A see-sawing world as he slid off Pony, raised concerned voices swooped in and out of his hearing. A swirling, nauseous sensation and then he was falling into a deep pit. Chris knew this pit and opened his arms wide.

0o0o0o0o0

He said he was fine!

Chris' collapse took them by surprise. Josiah and Buck had taken Nathan upstairs. JD and Ezra had rushed off for water and to order food for everybody. Vin had been keeping an eye on Chris. It was as if once he knew Nathan was upstairs it was okay to let go. And dammit the man kept saying he was fine. Sure he'd looked a bit battered and bruised and scrawny under all that beard, but Vin wasn't prepared for the heat he felt when he grabbed Chris as he slid off his horse. He yelled for Buck, Vin needed help getting him up the stairs.

Josiah was getting Nathan settled and preparing some fever tea by the time Buck and Vin came in with Chris. They placed him on the second cot. Taking a moment to catch their breath, they then began to check what was wrong with Chris.

"Lord, look at that! Why didn't the fool say something?" recoiled Buck as they pulled open Chris' shirt and then removed it. Simmons' doctoring needed repairing and then they saw the bruises on his torso and back and legs. As Buck washed Chris' face hoping to reduce the fever he felt a raised bump on his forehead and parting his friend's blonde hair, he found a reddened laceration and bruising.

"Dammit stud, what else are we gonna find?!" growled Buck.

"Well, I ain't undressing him!"

"He'd do it for you!"

"Yeah, but this is now and you've known him longer, Bucklin'"

But they weren't really arguing, their banter diverting the concern they felt for Chris, as they removed his gun belt, socks and jeans.

"There ain't hardly a place he ain't been hit, Buck," cursed Vin as more bruising was revealed on the too thin body. None of them had thought about the shackles on his ankles or heavy cuffs on his wrists. Chris must have been in pain from the rubbing and had said nothing

Nathan was feverish so they couldn't really ask him what to do. But all of them had experience with cuts and bruises and other injuries so they didn't moan about what to do they just got on with finding a solution.

They fed Chris water with some laudanum so he didn't fight them too much and set to cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

Nasty as it was, they cut the thick stitches and purged the wound of infection, dosing it well and bandaging it tight. They figured to let it drain open for a while until Nathan could hopefully re-stitch it. Buck and Josiah's brawn held Chris down in case he came to while Vin's steady hands did the work. The slash had begun to heal at the thinner ends, but the rest had become inflamed, rubbing against the harsh prison shirt and all.

Buck washed the head wound and put some of Nathan's salve on it then bandaged it while Vin fed Chris some more healing tea. Between them they gently moved Chris so they could place warm bags along the worst of the bruises on his lower back. They salved and wrapped his chafed ankles in bandages.

Vin looked up as they rolled Chris against extra pillows, to see Josiah watching them.

"He's gonna be fine," Vin drawled with a tight smile.

Josiah nodded but Buck added "Well, you know Chris- his version of "fine" is a little bit flexible but he always pulls through. Hang in there stud. We gotcha home rest up and don't worry about a thing."

Vin looked at Buck, he was just as worried, though his words said otherwise.

They took turns staying with the injured men, allowing the others to get some much needed rest.

By mid morning the next day Vin hurriedly returned to see how things were in the healers room. Nathan was sitting up not as feverish and happy to have company.

"How's things?"

"Better thanks, Vin. Chris needs a bit more time though." Nathan replied, wiggling his fingers and trying to move his arm a little.

"Reckon so," agreed Vin as he sat next to Chris, his hand already reaching for the cloth in the bowl to help reduce Chris's fever. "Easy now," he soothed as Chris mumbled and shifted restlessly, fighting demons in his sleep.

"How bad is he? Damn I wish I could see!" Nathan said angrily.

"I heard all about you tryin' to get outta bed earlier!" Vin quipped as he stood up and fetched more tea for Nathan and tried to get more down Chris.

"He's had a hell of a time in that prison. When I got to him he'd killed the Sheriff and the Warden. You shoulda seen that hole! Musta been hard in there, thinkin' about how someone else's words says you're guilty and there ain't a thing you can do about it. I've been there- it ain't pretty. Just waiting to see if you're goin' to live or die without provin' it! That doctor said Chris bucked the system hard the moment he got in there."

"I know what's it's like not to have freedom, Vin," said Nathan softly.

"Sorry, Nate I didn't think . . ." said Vin aware of Nathan's life in slavery.

"It's okay . . ."

"No, it ain't. But it will be, just as soon as you two get better and get off your lazy backsides!"

"Humph, all in good time," Nathan yawned.

Gradually Chris stilled and relaxed. When Vin checked Chris's side there was only a little blood and muck this time. Buck came in as he was fetching clean bandages and Nathan's wash that he liked to clean wounds with.

"Need a hand wrestling with the grizzly?"

"I'm guessin' you've done this before."

"A time or two," Buck admitted as he pulled the blanket down, revealing Chris's torso. Chris drew in a sharp breath as they gently lifted him forward to unwrap the old bandages and replace the pad over the wound.

"Chris?"

"Inmate 78!" Chris said, his eyes half open and fever bright.

"That who did this to you?"

"I did!" he panted with effort.

Vin paused in the middle of cleaning the wound to look at Buck and then back at Chris. Buck shrugged. As they wrapped the pad in place Chris grew more combative, struggling.

"No, get away!"

"It's alright pard, you're safe." Buck assured him.

"Lawless. Somethin' goin' on. All wrong. Look out . . .rattler!"

"Just rest Chris." said Vin

"Inmate . . .." Chris muttered.

"No, Chris. Not any more, trust me," Vin pleaded as he wiped Chris's face with a wet cloth.

0o0o0o

Later that night Chris's fever broke and without fuss they changed the bedding, and washed him down. Before settling him, Nathan was allowed up briefly to check Chris's wound, it was better. Nathan was impressed with the care Chris had received from the others. They did listen to him after all! Tomorrow in good light he vowed he'd put a few new stitches in. As ever they fed Chris more broth and tea and left him to rest. Vin took the opportunity to finally rid his friend of the beard, shaving him carefully. Chris looked like Chris once more and Vin felt better knowing that. Things were returning to normal.

The next morning found Chris waking up, wondering who'd filled his mouth with the bottom of Mrs Tomlinson's birdcage and, how soon he could get to the privy.

He squinted up at the ceiling and then across to see if he had company.

"We home?" Chris croaked, recognising Nathan's room.

"Yup. Thought you wasn't ever gonna wake up today." said Vin noting from the slight movement and change in breathing that he was awake at last.

"Guess I needed it." Chris rasped.

"Here, drink this," offered Vin, a cup of water in his hand.

"No more! I gotta . . ." Chris flipped the cover back, determined not to think about water or else he'd burst. "Where's my clothes!" he gasped as his side throbbed and he felt light headed from sitting up too fast.

"Hey! Not so quick! Have this. " Vin said picking up a glass receptacle, ignoring the question deliberately as Chris covered himself again and lay back down for a second- his whole body aching. Maybe standing up wasn't such a good idea just yet.

"Not gonna be big enough," Chris gasped with a slight grin eyeing the shaped glass bottle.

Vin snorted "Awake two seconds an' you're already pushing it! Nathan says to use it. Neither of us are up to toting your sorry ass up and down them stairs to the privy."

"Where is he anyway?"

"Getting a bit of fresh air."

"Trying to say something about me Vin?"

"Nope. You want this or not?"

"Yes, dammit!"

He took the bottle and waited for Vin to leave for a few moments of privacy. Much as he liked Vin, he was glad it was Nathan who reappeared to retrieve the bottle and hold it up to the light with his free hand.

"I's checking, cause of the bruising to your back, worried about your kidneys. Water's still a bit pink."

"I could have told you that, Nathan! I know when I'm pissing blood . . ." retorted Chris, slightly embarrassed at the personal tasks the others must have had to do while he was ill.

Nathan set the flask aside for the moment and washed his hands, his right arm still painful and stiff. He sat on the chair next to Chris with a little groan.

"Can I have my clothes back now?"

"Chris- you just woke up! Let me look you over and we'll make a deal. How's the headache?" Nathan asked tiredly.

"What headache? " Chris said as Nathan undid the bandage and peered at the knot on his head.

Nathan sighed. "The one you'll probably have on and off for another day or so. That's some hit you took there."

"Warden's baton."

"Ouch. Mind if I check your other injuries?"

Chris shook his head and lay back down gladly – although he wouldn't let Nathan know that -and pulled the blanket free.

"How do you feel?"

"Just great Nathan . . ."

"Don't sass back at me. Now, you hungry?"

Chris shook his aching head, the mere thought of food made his gut spasm.

"Hmm, you should eat, you're down to the bone- ain't right. Maybe you ate something bad . . ."

Chris snorted "Yeah, reckon that's it alright . . ."

Nathan unwrapped the cloth round the knife wound, sniffed and looked carefully at it. It wasn't leaking pus no more and the ends had healed up fine. He reckoned he could get away with only a few stitches for the middle part.

He carefully stood up, went to the door and spoke to Vin, still waiting on the landing outside.

"Need an extra hand, if you're free."

"Sure everything alright?" Vin said coming inside, following Nathan to the back to wash his hands.

"I'm fine. What are you eating?" asked Chris as Vin sucked noisily and moved something from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Just some candy . . ." Vin replied as he sat next to Chris, placing items on a small table directed by Nathan.

"Okay, just a few stitches here. This is gonna hurt a bit," Nathan warned and set to.

Chris laughed loudly surprising them both. Couldn't hurt as much as in Jericho that was for sure.

"What's so funny?" Vin asked.

"Nothing."

"I swear, I don't know you two at all sometimes," muttered Nathan, his arm already aching from fiddling with the first knot as Vin leant over and cut the end. Suddenly Vin choked then recovered and looked up to find both Nathan and Chris staring at him.

"Wha'?"

"Either spit it out or crunch and swallow, Vin. I ain't in the mood to go round fishing down your throat jus' because of your sweet tooth!" Nathan said.

Frowning, Vin crunched, only to gasp in pain. Hurriedly he spat the candy into his palm, and stuck a finger in his mouth.

"Now what?"

"Ow, felt like I busted a tooth or somethin'." He got up and put the candy in the bin, rinsed his mouth out and washed his hands again because Nathan liked them to. He came back, one hand pressing against the side of his face.

"Can I carry on now?" asked Nathan bemused.

"Sure. Stitch away doc."

Once that was over Nathan urged Chris to rest and although he muttered darkly saying he wanted to get up, the next time Nathan looked over- Chris was asleep. Vin got Nathan to lie down for a while too. "Me an' the boys‘ll keep an eye out. Don't worry."

Chris's body over-ruled his mind and he caught up on some badly needed healing sleep. Over the next day or so he told them what had happened- avoiding telling them exactly how long he'd been in the Warden's hole and all.

He finally got his wish and was glad to sit out on the porch bundled up in his clothes and blankets.

He began to get annoyed at everyone asking how he was and how much he needed fattening up and how awful the whole thing was.

It was what it was.

Eating large plates of food wasn't going to solve anything overnight. Besides he just threw most of it up later anyway. It was a waste of food and his energy. If they found out they got mad at him. If he only ate the little he wanted, they got upset. He couldn't win. Chris was glad he was home but he was getting irritated and angry at himself and the world. He started to push people away; sooner or later someone was going to get hurt.

0o0o0o0o0

An ordinary day leads to words in anger...

It was just an ordinary day in town or looked to be that way. The stagecoach was due, Ezra knew there was a poker tournament headed this way and he was looking forward to pitting his wits against fellow cardsharps as they passed through. Once, he would have just taken off and joined the merry go round, but now he had responsibilities in the town. Besides Mr Larabee would no doubt think it frivolous, unless he had his own devious reasons for Ezra wanting to attend. One could find out all manner of information about people or places by listening carefully. Nevertheless, Ezra was glad to see Mr Larabee back in his usual place in the saloon, slightly sore and still in need of several good solid meals and in a fretful mood if Ezra had judged him right.

By late afternoon a heavy heat smothered the town. Most of the peace keepers were in the saloon after lunch. Vin had long gone probably hiding in the shade somewhere trying to forget about his toothache, Chris reckoned. For the last three days Vin had refused to let Nathan look at it, preferring no treatment to someone poking at it and hoping it would clear up on its own.

A party of riders came in, and settled in the bar, some played cards with Ezra and lost. They left the table good natured enough but Chris and Buck could feel something was up. They just didn't know what. Until the men started to drink and argue with each other and the keepers waded in to protect the barkeep and other patrons. Chris sat up in his chair, itching, ready for a fight, a tussle, an argument- anything.

Meanwhile outside a prosperous looking gentleman came out of the bank with a small leather satchel. A rider came through town at the same time. He drew parallel and bent down and grabbed the bag. The man yelled and tried to run after the horse but only Vin was there outside on the spot. The fellow passed right under the roof he was sitting on and without thinking about it he leapt into the air.

The dust up in the saloon was being dealt with when Chris heard shouting outside; he made it to the boardwalk just in time to see Vin fly off the roof and onto the rider and his horse, knocking the rider off. They rolled on the ground and straight into the path of the incoming stagecoach. The driver hurriedly pulled the horses over and Vin and the thief landed out of the way by the skin of their teeth.

Chris, put his gun back in his holster already reeling from the fight in the bar having been punched in the stomach, seeing Vin fly off he roof and then almost get squashed by the coach made his gorge rise and he quickly ducked into an alley. He spat and wiped his mouth and looked up to see Vin staring back. Chris flushed with embarrassment suddenly and stood up quickly, wincing at the twinge in his gut. He could always blame it on his sore stomach still not recovered from the prison food.

"You okay?" Vin called.

"Fine, "he snapped. Chris stared at Vin for damage, a bit dusty but alive. Damn but that had been close. Vin didn't seem bothered at all.

"Let's go clean up the mess and sort everything out," he ordered. Vin followed him over to the jail, pulling the robber with him. The dapper gent followed them, talking nineteen to the dozen in his profuse thanks.

It was some time before they had the verbal and written statements squared away and the dust settled once more. Chris was glad he could escape on patrol and do something about his tormented thoughts. He headed for the livery to saddle up and get gone, ignoring the startled looks as he swept past townsfolk with a dark scowl and flap of black duster.

With years of practice, Chris swung the saddle onto Pony's back with a grunt and buckled up tight. He flipped the stirrups down, tugged and checked them automatically. Anything rather than think about Vin's airborne leap onto the thief's horse. He flinched as he remembered leaping onto the guard's horse in the prison yard the moment he arrived. He'd almost made it too, before some brute knocked him out and off the horse.

Why did it bother him so much how Vin had stopped the robber? Would he rather he shot him? But the man had been riding away, and Tanner wouldn't shoot a man in the back . . .

And then the stagecoach roaring in like that . . .a little like when he'd rescued Billy. But that had been different. But Vin was okay, for all his worrying about him.

Maybe that was the problem; he was beginning to care again. He got into trouble and they'd come looking for him. What if they hadn't? Would he be dead? Nathan wouldn't have got shot. Hell, they could all have died . . .and all because of him being stupid.

He should just get out while everybody was still alive and breathing and not broken and bloody under coach wheels or smouldering remains in a burnt out house . . ..

"Want company?" deep in his thoughts Chris hadn't heard Vin come into the livery. Annoyed, he snapped

"No."

"Sure? " Vin sounded hopeful. Chris didn't do hopeful. Not today. And maybe not ever again.

"Just get out of my way."

"You alright?"

"Of course."

"Well, somethin' bothered you earlier, ‘cause I saw . . ."

"You didn't see nothing, keep your mouth shut and let me go!" snarled Chris, finally tying his bedroll the way he liked it onto his saddle.

"Hey, excuse me for asking! Buck said . . .."

Ire ignited in Chris.

"Buck should keep his opinions about me to himself!" he yelled.

"Why the hell do you think it's about you anyways? Why the hell should I bother what's got you in a knot?" replied Vin angrily. He was short on sleep because his tooth hurt all the time.

"Tell you what's got me riled. You."

"Me? What the heck did I do? I just came in to ask if'n ya wanted company on patrol!"

"Leapin' off that roof! I saw you. Coulda got yourself killed! And the stagecoach missed you by a whisker! That's what!"

"Never bothered you before. I was there, you guys weren't."

"Well maybe we shoulda been . . ."

"I looked out for myself for a long time before you showed up, Larabee. Leave me to do what I gotta do!"

"No."

"Dammit you ain't my pa, alright? Get out of my face."

"I got rights . . ."

"The hell you do cowboy. "

"Shut up! Don't want ya dead! Gotta sort out Tascosa . . ."

"You can't save everybody- me included. I did fine on my own, long before I met you! So get off your damn, no good drunken high horse!"

"Hey! It's not just you and me here, Vin. There are five other people and the town as well. I'm only thinking of you."

"I ain't a kid you can just order about."

"Fine. You want to be treated like a child..."

"What? You gonna beat me; stop me from sittin' on the roofs? Saved your sorry asses when you didn't know it! Gonna take my bullets away too while you're at it? You can't stop me! Jus' how much longer are you goin' ta wear them black duds? Hell, you must have been some ornery, miserable kind of a pa you know that? No wonder you were off drinkin' and horse tradin'"

As soon as he said it, Vin wished the words back. Chris' face stilled, tightened and blanked.

"I give up. Do what the hell you like Tanner, you usually do," and Chris turned back to Pony.

"Chris," Vin caught his arm, but it was shrugged violently off.

"Larabee!" said Vin." I'm sor . . ."

"You ain't! You said it, you meant it. It's over."

"No!"

Chris whipped round, fist flying and Vin toppled from a hard punch, sending him crashing first into the wall, and then slide to the floor.

Semi conscious and bleeding Vin could only watch as Chris rode out on Pony and into the early evening haze.

Swearing silently to himself he lay back down until the world stopped spinning. Vin got up slowly brushing off bits of hay and earth, "What're you lookin' at?" he muttered to Peso, who then huffed and turned his back on him. Vin wiped his bloody nose and mouth with the back of his hand.

"Yeah okay, tell me something I don't already know." He didn't want to go outside and get asked all sorts of questions just yet so he fed and brushed Peso. He stood there trying to work out how things got so complicated and how long it would take for Chris to forgive him or at least come to some sort of truce.

Chris might disappear again. But if he followed Chris, he would just slug him again Vin reckoned. He fingered his sore tooth and spat out blood when JD came in

"Hey Vin. Wow look at you! Peso head butt you?" Vin didn't answer but JD seemed to take it as a yes.

"Chris gone on patrol?"

"Yeah." it was a relatively safe answer Vin thought.

"Something up?"

"Nop.e"

"Oh."

Vin walked out and left JD talking to himself, he knew it was rude; he had a lot of time for JD but not right now. He washed his face in a trough and winced as his tooth throbbed nastily. He deserved it he told himself as he headed for the saloon.

By the time he waited for a drink, JD had come back in. When Vin sat down to eat some soup JD had already mentioned about Peso so they didn't ask any further about his hurt face or the blood splotches on his shirt and hand –just teased him mercilessly about his horse.

Vin didn't like lying, and he hadn't exactly, it was just that he didn't correct JD's story and the longer it went on, the deeper in truth it lodged until even Vin began to think that's what happened. He had a drink, swilling the whiskey round his mouth hoping it might help his dammed toothache; Chris hitting him like that hadn't helped any. He needed to ponder on things but was finding it difficult with his tooth and head throbbing so.

Part 2

Looking for questions and answers . . .

Several hours later as the night drew in and wind got up Buck wondered where his friend had gotten to. It was unlike him not to come back into town. Chris was very particular about patrol and reporting, something he'd learned in the Army. And Chris was only just back on his feet. Vin had been very quiet he remembered. Buck grinned, Vin didn't realise his face was swelling like a chipmunk with his toothache. But he was being a baby about refusing help for it. Sooner or later he was going to have to and as for Peso butting him giving him that busted nose, well . . .

Vin extra quiet and not looking at him at all this evening and now Chris gone . . .Buck suddenly got to wondering if they had had a falling out. But over what? Chris, he knew from experience had a quick temper and a vicious fist. Not that Vin was a lily liver he could be mean when prodded once too often.

Sure earlier today there'd been the distraction fight and gunplay in the saloon, but Vin had been outside and had stopped the man from riding off with the money bags. But Chris had been the only one to see Vin. They'd sorted everything out, put the men in jail, and talked about what had happened, seeing that their tactics worked. Chris had seemed a bit off, now he thought about it.

But then he'd been a bit off ever since they'd rescued him from the prison more than a week ago. Nathan was up and about, back to making limited house calls and doctoring.

Buck decided it was time to find that Texan and shake him until the tassels fell off his stupid buckskin coat. He wanted answers and he was damn well going to get them.

0o0o0o0o0

Vin needed help but didn't know quite where to go. Buck would be mad, JD was too young, Ezra . . .would just be Ezra and he wouldn't get two words out of five. Nathan would have been a good bet if he wasn't off doctoring in the next town over. Only one person left who might have a direct line to an answer. He went up the steps of the church, took off his hat and went in.

"Siah, you ever said somethin' in the heat of the moment and wished you'd never said it in the first place?"

"Sure."

Silence

"How do you get them words back?"

"Depends on what they were, brother."

"Wrong words."

"Then you need to say the right ones in their place."

"But he was mad and then I got mad and things kinda got chewed up like a dogs dinner."

"Tell me what you said and maybe I can help."

"No, that's between me an' him if you don't mind, it was personal. Should'na been but it was."

"Then I can only suggest trying to talk to him."

"Huh, not sure he'll listen right now."

"Then give it time."

"Time for what Vin?"

"Buck!"

"What the hell's goin on? Chris ain't back yet off patrol and he should be!"

"Damn the man! It's my fault."

"What did you do? We all know he still needs his rest. Shouldn't be traipsing about all night."

"We had words is all."

"Just words? You get into a fight with him as well Vin?"

"Yeah." Vin admitted reluctantly, not wanting to lie, and him standing in the house of God after all . . ..

"JD said it was Peso that butted him! You lied to us."

"Didn't! JD just thought that. Chris was gone by then."

"Sounds like Vin here sinned by omission."

"What, Josiah?"

 "You didn't put JD right."

"I know that."

Buck and Vin left the church and headed down the dark street lit by the flickering night fires.

"What the hell did you say to him so bad that he'd hit you?" Buck insisted, giving Vin an angry shove.

"Personal."

"Aw hell. Why on earth did you do that? You know what he's like . . .well maybe you don't..."

"Not as well as you, but we got mad and I said some things I shouldn't have . . .but so did he." Vin said, aware that he sounded like a spoilt child . . .

"How we goin to fix this, Vin?"

"What's this ‘we'? Huh, and you never pissed him off before Buck?"

"Plenty- but I'd never insult his family and live to tell the tale! And this ‘we' is you and me, we're Chris's friends last I heard."

"I said I was sorry."

"Not to me- you sorry excuse for a bounty hunter- Chris!"

"I tried but he rode off after smacking me in the face! Don't need more yellin' Buck, it ain't helping." Vin hissed as he pushed through the swing doors of the saloon.

"Could swing by his cabin early tomorrow, tonight's too soon. Can't believe we need to look for Chris again."

"At least we didn't wait weeks this time," said Vin hotly

"Hey, he's a grown man, and I thought he needed to let off steam after Fowler and everything. Cut the guy a little slack."

"So it was okay for him to get stuck in that hell hole!"

"Course not Vin. Hell, no wonder he slugged you!"

"What? "said JD, wondering what was going on with Buck and Vin. "You said Peso walloped you!"

"Didn't .JD – you said it, I never did."

"Yeah well this ain't helping any."

"Might I suggest you stop revisiting past transgressions and focus on the task ahead?"

Vin and JD looked at Ezra puzzled.

"Tracking Mr Larabee and sorting out whatever it is that's wrong between you." he said pointedly.

0o0o0o0

Chris rode away from Vin, full of hurt and anger. He felt some relief as he arrived at his small cabin. He unsaddled and rubbed Pony's heaving flanks down. The tasks automatic and soothing as he went to the water barrel and grain feed. "Sorry boy," he said as he patted the hard muscle beneath his hand. Pony was one of the few remaining links with his former life, and no matter how tired or hurt, the horse always got put away first. Adam had loved working with him as he grew old enough to help. Chris swallowed hard.

How dare Vin say such things to him, he railed as he headed for the cabin with his saddlebags over his shoulder. So he wouldn't have to think about it too much he methodically repaired loose stitches on one saddle bag. Then he checked his gun, cleaning and refilling it. Nothing in mind, just regular chores.

No one came by, but he didn't expect them to. Reckoned Buck would tell Vin to give him time to cool off and then Vin would come in. At present Chris didn't want to listen. As he waited for coffee to heat he wondered how things had gotten so ugly so fast.

He was tired of others changing his life for him. His side ached making him lift his shirt up and feel the red scar, remembering he'd been gut punched in the ruckus in the saloon. He couldn't see anything wrong, Nathan's stitches were out and it seemed healed. But he didn't seem to have much energy and felt tired all the time. Everyone kept nagging at him to eat more, but he just couldn't face eating even more than a week after his rescue.

He'd tried his usual drinking habits but discovered even that had been ruined by his time in Jericho . Seemed the drink got him stinking drunk quicker than before. Made him puke like hell too, which kept Nathan on his back-

"Chris, you're gonna kill yourself. It's too soon. Your body's still crazy from what happened. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can . . ." he'd replied.

Buck was confused saying "This ain't like you, stud. You got an iron clad gut . . ."

No, Chris thought to himself, maybe I'm just a coward.

Even the small cigars he enjoyed burned a hole in his gut too. Simple pleasures starved and beaten away . . ..leached out in the dark nights in the Hole . . .

Chris got to thinking about how his life had turned out as a man, a father and husband. He tried so hard to hang onto the good memories and times. He wished he had a picture of his sweet wife and child but everything had been destroyed in the fire. How much longer could he summon up the pictures in his memory?

‘Miserable son of a bitch' yeah, he could be that and more. Sometimes the only thing he could see and smell was what was left upon his returning from that horse trading trip with Buck. His world shattered. Just when he was beginning to take an interest in things again and life getting good. Blackfoot had led him to Fowler and that bastard had gone back into the flames rather than reveal who had paid him for murdering his family. That was hard to take. Unbearable. The pain of it tore at him anew as Vin's angry words rattled in his head. He tossed and turned on his cot. He hadn't been that bad a father and husband he reckoned. But he could have been home more and he could never forgive himself for not coming home a day earlier to save his family.

He wondered if he should head back to town tomorrow morning, but childishly vetoed that. They'd fret, but let them he thought. Thinking about his family and former life made him edgy. Restless, he got up and went out into the night wrapped in his blanket and wandered over to the corral; Pony came over looking for treats. "Hey boy" he said as he rubbed his nose. "Okay" he said as Pony gently nudged him for an apple." What am I going to do?" Pony snorted as he realised there was no more.

"My feelings exactly," Chris said scratching Pony's neck. Pony stood still as Chris thought, when Pony moved he realised he'd almost dozed off on his feet. ‘Must be getting old' he yawned as he returned to the cabin. But he now knew what he was going to do.

Before dawn he got up, made coffee and saddled up Pony and set off. A destination in mind at last.

0o0o0o0o0

Discoveries

The next morning two men rode out to Larabee's cabin. Early, but not early enough it seemed.

"He's not here."

"I see that, Buck. Shoulda come yesterday."

"Yes you should."

"He wouldn't have listened."

"I know, but you would've tried. He'd respect that."

"Maybe. So now what?"

"We follow? He won't like that."

"Tough- what he likes or doesn't ain't the problem. He can't just take off again like this, not after . . . Jericho . "

By late afternoon they had worked out that Larabee was headed towards his old property. A place neither of them relished returning to. For Buck, like Chris, it held mixed memories – the best and worst. For Vin, it meant that his bitter words to Chris had sent him where he could wallow in deep despair. As they reached the top of the rise, the skies had darkened and promised rain.

Tears for the beloved.

Buck pulled his horse up for a moment. "Used to love coming here," he said softly. "It was almost like coming home. But, I know what's beyond that rise now and I don't like it any more. I can't stand seeing what's left and...Chris . . ."

Vin didn't say a word as the rain began to fall. One way or another either Chris would be there, or he wouldn't. He nudged Peso forward and led on.

Chris wasn't there now, but he had been. There were wild flowers on Sarah's grave marker and a carved horse for Adam. They searched the area, just in case. Neither of them voicing the dark thoughts that if Chris was going to end it he'd be right by his family and not hidden away somewhere.

Wet and defeated, Vin sat awkwardly on a tired horse. His head and face hurt and he'd rather be anywhere than where he was. He cursed the heavy rain for washing out the tracks. Now he had no hope of telling where he'd gone. And he wondered if Chris was ever going to come back, if he'd have the chance to say he was sorry. That he wished his words back with all his heart. It wasn't as if he and Chris hadn't had an angry word or two before. But this had been different and Vin hated to see the effect his cruel words had on the gunslinger, when he was still feeling so low.

But Larabee had carried on, not turning back. As the rain pelted down Vin knew they were too late by several hours, the tracks were going and Chris was gone. He was wet and tired and he wished he could say sorry. Vin turned to Buck, "We can head for Eagle Bend and shelter or carry on the other way and camp out?"

Buck shrugged; he always preferred a warm bed and besides Chris could be there, creating hell in the saloon.

They headed for Eagle Bend, another place with bad associations. A place where they might be unwelcome and who knew what it could do to Chris.

0o0o0o0

Chris found himself travelling again, beyond Eagle Bend, in some small one horse town looking for somewhere to be out of the rain he could see was headed his way. It was while he was in what passed for the saloon, hoping some whiskey would make him feel better, than he heard the name Quince.

He stood at the bar and tried to look like he wasn't listening. Seemed some lady had choked over a bone in the boarding house and keeled over just yesterday. But the men were talking about who she'd been seen talking to before that. Chris was tired and his gut ached badly, but hearing Mrs. Quince's name and the fact that she had been seen talking to some gun for hire made him nervous. Over the noise he caught another name- Tanner and directions to head out west and he had been asking about the peace keepers there.

There went the plan to stay the night in the town and in a soft bed. He had to return home. He tried to see who was talking but a fight broke out and it was some moments before he could get out of the way.

Chris left the saloon and interrogated the undertaker, checking that the woman buried was the one he thought it might be. It was Mrs Quince, though he lied, saying he didn't recognise her after all. There was no telegraph office in this small community. Nothing to be done but to ride back home and warn his friends and keep an eye out for this man. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, stuck his black hat back on and rode out into the damp air.

He trailed a likely suspect into the evening gloom, but when he caught up with him he turned out to be an innocent traveller. Cursing his mistake he pressed on.

As dusk fell he had to get off Pony and rest from sitting up in the saddle for so long. He hung onto Pony's bit as he fed him an apple, his side aching and he felt hot, his head swimming even though the air was still cold and damp from the rain. He staggered over to a scrub of bushes and boulders, Pony obediently trailing after him. He made a small fire with dried grass and some wood that he kept in a watertight bag. Chris picketed Pony and wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bedroll for the night. Something was wrong, he just didn't know what.

Little did he know his quarry was now stalking him, watching and waiting.

He couldn't stop, he had to get back to town but he felt bad. He drank some water and struggled to keep it inside him. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

His grip on reality was disjointed and strange. It felt like the warden was there beating him, taunting him and he could hear the sound of the rattler in the hole with him. He was hot and sweaty, feeling nauseous and he staggered over to a bush, panting with effort as he splattered the ground with his whiskey and lunch.

At the last second he registered someone behind him, he felt his gun being removed and tried to reach for the hand. He got a crack on the head for that and dimly felt his hands being tied behind him and as he vainly struggled on the ground, his ankles tied as well.

"Mr Larabee, unless I'm mistaken." His attacker said. No one he recognised.

"Untie me an' find out!" spat Chris, blood running down his face and into one eye. A boot pressed onto his back pushed him hard into the ground and he yelled and cursed, wriggling trying to trip the man. The boot on his back lifted only to nudge him hard in the ribs and he choked and dry heaved.

"Hey, I need you to stay alive long enough to get me what I need. Ain't got anything against you as such, it's just a job. I get paid at the end of it. Now people round these parts say you know Tanner pretty well. Fact is I'm surprised he ain't with you right now. But still- you can tell me where he is." his captor said calmly as he dragged Chris away.

"Never!"

"Oh I think so. I think he may be on his way lookin' for you right now."

"No!"

"I got friends all over and I hear he's headed this way with another old friend of yours. With your help I can capture him and take him back to Texas . You can watch him hang and then it's your turn to die. You're just an extra bonus."

"Mrs Quince pay you to do this?" Chris growled, trying not to think of Vin and Buck getting killed because of him. He didn't think he could stand that. Not Buck, his last link to his old life- he might just as well be dead if that happened. And Vin was innocent.

"A businessman never tells." was the smug reply.

"She's dead -you won't get your money."

"You think so? I get all the Tanner reward and I'm sure I can get something for killing you Mr Larabee. Plenty of people lookin' for a piece of you. Wilmington I don't know about but you never know. I hear he was a lawman once . . ..musta made a few people mad."

Chris hated feeling helpless again. This was too much like Jericho again. He made up his mind.

"Take me and leave Tanner and Buck out of this, Mrs Quince really wanted me. I killed her son and the Warden and ruined the scam they had going at the prison."

"That maybe but I like my plan better. He's a wanted man, I get the money and watch you while they're doing it. Besides I hear you were all involved in what happened to her son."

"Go to hell," spat Chris, which earned him another kick to his side.

"I'm sure you' will when I'm done with you. We got to wait a little while I reckon." He gagged Chris so he didn't have to listen to him. Chris lay for a while trying to get free until he felt so bad and passed out.

0o0o0o0

Chill air, damp earth beneath him and something else roused him, he tried to roll over wondering why his hands and feet were tied. Chris stilled, he head pounding as he remembered, he managed to open one eye the other was glued shut.

The bounty hunter heard him moving and told him to keep quiet, he could hear the sound of a horse coming through the still dawn air. Chris knew it was Vin, though he couldn't say how he knew. He blinked hard and tried to wake up a bit more to see what was going to happen next. It was more than he deserved if it was Vin after the fight they'd had.

As he lay there shivering he realised that his gun and holster, duster and hat were all gone. Damn, but he must really have been out of it for that to happen. Boots appeared and the hunter knelt down and a gun was pressed hard to his temple. The hunter pulled him so he sat up.

"Call to him Larabee. Nothing fancy or I can make him think you shot yourself in front of him." Chris gulped and thought quickly. He nodded. The filthy gag was removed; he coughed and spat bits out.

In the slowly brightening dawn he just about saw Vin on Peso, head down and to one side looking at Chris's own tracks from last night.

"Call ‘im." growled the hunter, grinding the gun into his head.

"Vinny! Glad to see you!" Chris called as loud as he could.

Vin's head jerked up at that. The hunter hurriedly stuffed the rag back into Chris's mouth, gagged him and hit him hard over the head again and dragged him into the bushes. As Chris fought the darkness he heard Vin call his name "Chris?"

He tried to shout but the gag was choking him and the last thing he heard was a gunshot.

0o0o0o0o0

Voices in the air

The bounty hunter in black stood up and laid a hand on Pony, who side stepped and pulled at his reins snorting.

The man dressed in black raised his gun. "Say goodbye, Tanner."

The sound of hoof beats travelled across the open space and an excited whoop rang out "Chris? That you?" Buck was riding hard to the cluster of bushes, scrub and boulders where he could see Chris standing near his horse and Vin approaching steadily on his.

In the fraction of the second that the eyes flicked towards Buck, a shot rang out hitting the man in black through the heart.

Buck pulled up, his gun at the ready looking around and saw the black coat and hatted figure on the ground and stared at Vin. Seeing no one else, he galloped towards Chris. Vin pulled up on his horse, leaping off his horse Buck ran over to Chris' body on the ground.

"Sweet Lord, what's happened now?" he cried as he saw the blood seeping into the earth. Buck looked around; there was no one else except them and the three guns. With a roar Buck stepped up to Vin, pulled him off Peso and slugged him hard.

"You bastard you shot Chris!"

Vin fell back against his horse, spat out blood and a tooth and grinned- it was the rotten one that was bothering him.

"What the fuck are you laughing at? Chris is dead! I can't believe things could get so bad between you! I don't understand..? What..?" Buck was struggling to grasp what he saw.

"No, it ain't Chris."

"What!"

Still spitting blood Vin followed Buck and kicked the gun away –Chris's he noted-automatically even though he knew the man was dead. He looked around trying to spot where Chris might be and if they were in time.

Buck lifted the familiar hat off the face; it wasn't Chris – just like Vin said.

"What the hell is going on around here?" he cursed, but glad all the same that it wasn't his old friend.

The dead man was wearing Chris' duster and gun belt along with the hat and had Pony.

"Don't know Buck, but we need to find Chris fast."

Buck agreed. No way would he willingly give up his possessions. Dammit but this was too soon after the Jericho hellhole.

Vin searched the mans pockets for papers and found his own wanted poster.

Damn, not again. All this because of him, Buck would hate this. Angrily he crumbled it up and put it in his pocket to use for fire fuel another time.

"What was that?"

"Wanted poster"

"Of Chris?"

"No"

"Oh . . .You? Another bounty hunter . . .. is that what this is? "said Buck angrily, still fighting the despair he felt a moment ago when he thought Vin had killed Chris.

"Looks that way. Chris can't be far, he called out to me." Vin said looking at the campsite. He untied Pony, who immediately began nosing round some bushes to one side. Buck and Vin hurried over, spotting the dark clad legs at the same time. As they turned Chris over he began to come to, bucking slightly.

"Quick, he's choking!" Buck ripped off the gag and tugged the smelly cloth in his mouth free. Chris desperately sucked in vital air, coughing before groaning and lying back. "Vin! " he croaked. Buck went for a canteen of water so he could wash his mouth out and then have a drink. Vin cut the ropes round his hands and feet.

Vin and Buck looked at him, one eyed, battered and bloody - a hostage of fate once again. Buck lifted Chris's head up and let him drink. He was so thirsty and he choked a little, struggling for air and trying to sit up all at once.

"It's okay Chris. He didn't get Vin. We're here."

"Oh, God." He groaned, curling up as Vin washed away the blood and dirt from his face.

"What's the matter?"

"Side feels like he cut me or somethin'. Bastard kicked me."

Hurriedly they unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt.

"Nothin' here ‘cept some new bruises and where you got hurt before. That what hurts Chris?" Vin asked.

Chris nodded. Vin put a hand on the healing scar and pressed down lightly.

Chris yelled, cursing and ground out "Don't fuckin' do that again!"

"Don't worry I ain't," promised a shocked Vin. Buck washed his sweaty face again and gave him some more water. They let him be for a second and stood off to one side

"Don't like this. His belly was hard. Don't know what it is, but we need to get ‘im back to Nathan, "said Vin looking worried.

"It's the wrong side to be that operation where they need to cut something outta you. Came across that when I was a Sheriff year or so back. But it don't look good."

"Okay. So lets go now." urged Vin.

"No argument from me. Chris is tough, must be bad for him to yell like that. It ain't just his ribs or the black eye, though they've gotta hurt too."

They turned back to Chris, who was lying on his side, eyes tight shut against the pain in his belly. "You know . . .who this . . .scum is?" Chris asked slowly, hearing them come closer.

"Nope."

"Me neither," said Buck, deciding it was high time he retrieved Chris's things off the body and did so.

"Mrs Quince..." gasped Chris suddenly gathering his scrambled thoughts together.

Vin turned around from untying Pony "She meeting this guy? We need to worry?"

"No! . . .dead . . ..s'okay . . ..sorry for everythin' . . ."

The angry hurtful words and the smouldering ashes of a cracked friendship disappeared. Vin's only concern now was getting Chris back to town in time and hoping that Nathan could fix him.

Buck tidied up the camp area while Vin looked for the bounty hunter's horse. After some minutes he came back with it and he and Buck loaded the hunter into it. Could be he was wanted for something and they'd all share the reward. Hopefully this was the end of it, with Mrs Quince dead too, if Chris was right. Which he most likely was, Vin reckoned.

"Chris?" Vin said crouching down and touching Chris's arm. One working eye sluggishly opened.

"We goin'?"

"Yup."

"Good." Chris nodded his agreement and began to gather himself to sit upright. Vin and Buck looked at each other, worried by Chris's lack of debate, and carefully helped him up.

They pulled Chris upright although he remained hunched over guarding his side. Pony stayed still as they pushed and pulled Chris onto his horse. Buck and Vin set off immediately, flanking their battered leader once more.

Vin and Buck set as fast a pace as they thought Chris could manage, though he didn't utter one word to them either way. They were still an hour or so from home when Vin called out "Buck!" and he turned to see Vin steadying Chris's limp form over Pony's neck.

"Don't like this Buck. He's too damn hot"

"I'll ride ahead. You'd best give Chris a hand, you're a bit lighter than me . . ."ordered Buck

Vin nodded and began to do so; the last thing Buck saw was Vin trying to get Chris to drink some water.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Back in Four Corners a man rode into town, tall, well dressed but not too dandified and of sharp demeanour. He looked around him with interest at the people and establishments of the town. People glanced at him wondering at his business when he did not stop at the boarding house or saloon but the sheriff's office instead. But since the town was under the protection more people passed time there than before.

Inside, JD hurriedly took his feet off the desk as the man walked in, slapping trail dust off his hat and clothes.

"Morning. Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a Larabee, Chris Larabee?"

"He's out of town right now. I can take a message."

"Do you know where he is or when he is due to return to these parts?"

"Uh, not exactly. Who wants to know?" asked JD worried this was some fancy shooter after Chris, but then he saw the man had no gun. Still, Buck had told him time after time not to go blurting out other people's business . . .

"I understood him to be peace keeper of the town and you don't know where he is? Seems a little lax . . ."

"Hey, Mister I don't know you and we take our job seriously here so don't be saying things you know nothing about."

"Hold on son. I'm not here to cause a disturbance. I just need to talk to him. I've got time I can wait a while."

"Well I guess that'd be okay." JD said grudgingly.

"If you're with Larabee, are the others in town at all? Maybe . . . Wilmington or Tanner? Maybe you were there as well?"

"No, sorry. They're busy right now.  Where are we supposed to have been . . .? You didn't give your name . . ." JD asked warily

"No I didn't did I? It's Lucius Marric. Perhaps I should explain, a relative of mine was incarcerated in some terrible prison. Jericho ."

"That hell hole!"

"You know it?"

"Sure, not going to forget that place in a hurry."

"Neither am I. My brother was there, wrongly convicted . . ."

"Sorry to hear that but we didn't mess with the prisoners, just the warden and guards . . .."

"By the time word got out after you had turned the place around my brother . . .was gone... I'm just looking to say thanks. If there's anything I can do in return- I'm a doctor."

"Oh, Nathan'd be interested in talking to you if you've the time. He's our doctor, says he just a healer but he's more than that."

"Alright. Can you recommend a reputable boarding house and what's the saloon like?"

With a grin, JD steered him to the saloon. As far as he could tell the man seemed to be who he said he was, but Nathan Josiah and Ezra would be able to tell if not. Besides he spoke fancy like Ezra and he'd be glad to talk to him.

Early next morning Lucius was sitting with Nathan in his clinic quite unbothered by the color of his skin and the basic nature of the room.

Simmons the prison doctor had told Lucius about the men who had freed the camp of the tyranny under the warden and guards and released the innocent men. Now that he'd met four of them he could only wonder at the diverse nature and disparate experience these men had and how they worked together.

Little of big city social cruelty was present here living on the edge of the frontier. Well, to be sure there were lapses but . . .he looked forward to meeting the other men especially Larabee. Seemed he was a tough but fair man.  A man with a dark cloud but who had made a stand for himself and others in this backwater town. But a clever man too.

Lucius admired their close brotherhood, quick to mock but even quicker to defend an absent friend.

In return for their hospitality, Nathan insisted that Lucius check his gunshot wound. Jackson asked a dozen questions about healing and what it was like to be a real doctor.

"You do yourself a disservice. From what I see and hear you are no sawbones or leech grubber . . .it's only more schooling and a piece of paper that says you aren't a doctor, this town and its people are fortunate to have you."

"Thank you, that means a lot to me. Been hard sometimes. Not everybody is as clear sighted about ma setting bones and such. That's how we met. Chris and Vin saved me from a lynching party . . ."

"Good lord."

"Well, someone was looking out fo' me that day. We came together to save a Seminole village and we stayed on under the Judge's jurisdiction. In return I patch them up when life gets little interesting."

"I can see that the Jericho incident hasn't been the only interesting event to befall you!"

They both laughed -the sound of a galloping horse and yelling stopping the moment. Nathan got up and carefully looked out over the balcony into the brief silence.

"Buck! You're back, what's up?"

"Chris. He's bad -don't know what's wrong. Vin's just behind me comin' in with him. Thought I'd ride ahead check you were here and get the water on and stuff." Buck gasped.

"He get shot?"

"No. A little beat up but nothing we can see. Something's wrong inside . . ."

Nathan ducked back inside thinking hard as he sorted out herbs and water. Lucius watched a familiar routine going on. A few minutes later more horses, panicked words and loud heavy steps up the step signalled the arrival of the injured man. Lucius was going to meet Larabee at last.

Part 3

Curing what ails you . . .

Lucius opened the door to Buck and Vin carrying a tall blond haired man dressed in black between them. Larabee he presumed.

They gently set him down on the bed, Nathan felt Chris's forehead and took his pulse as they stood close by panting and sweating slightly from the effort of carrying him up the stairs.

"Sure he ain't been shot or cut again?"

"No, jus real sick."

"Hmm he was okay a day or so ago. Rained hard last night but that shouldn't have made him sick this quick." Nathan mused.

"He was sick the other day, after that ruckus in the saloon "said Vin.

"What? He didn't say anything to me..."

"When does he?"

"I wasn't in the saloon so I don't know what happened there."

"Buck?"

"Not sure, we had a dust up - seemed to handle himself okay . . ."

"I saw him on the floor holding his side "chimed JD who had joined them. Ezra and Josiah as well. The clinic was crowded but in a good way as only concerned friends could be.

"He got back up though." JD carried on, as if this meant Chris was okay after all.

"That'd fit I guess with when I saw him outside " said Vin

"What happened Buck? Who's the dead guy on the horse?" asked JD

"JD, get some help and take him to the undertakers," Buck ordered.

"He do this to Chris?" JD was insistent..

"Just do it!"

"Okay I'm going . . ."

"Who's this? "asked Buck, unwilling to discuss things with a stranger in the room.

"Sorry Buck, Vin. This is Lucius Marric, his brother was in Jericho . Wrongly convicted - came to visit Chris..."

Lucius did not miss the instant tensing of Vin and Buck's bodies as if expecting trouble.

"Nathan- you need not make it sound as if our esteemed friend here is after dire retribution and bloody revenge on our leader or us. It is far from the case." Ezra chided.

"I came to thank you all."

Buck shrugged and let it ride, there were more important things to take care of first- Chris.

By now Nathan had undone Chris shirt and was checking him over, a cooling cloth on his forehead, clucking over the black eye and another head injury so soon after the last one. They could all see new bruises and the now familiar red scar- his memento from Jericho .

Nathan nodded to Vin and Buck to hold Chris down before he lightly probed the scar, feeling for something and nothing. Chris groaned and feebly tried to push him away.

"What do you think?" Nathan asked Lucius.

"Why ask him?" Vin asked.

" ‘Cause he's a doctor. " Lucius did the same as Nathan. He and Nathan exchanged look.

"I seen this in the war when I was a stretcher bearer. But I only set and stitched. I never cut anybody open . . ."

"What's going on?"

"See this wound? It looks healed up and all but it ain't. There's infection inside. Making him ill. Dangerous. " Nathan said, Lucius nodded in agreement.

"So, you gotta cut him open?" Buck said worried

"It's the only way, if it isn't already too late." Lucius calmly informed them.

"Don't say that!" Vin cried out.

"But he's been fine for weeks."

"Perhaps the fight aggravated or moved something inside and set it off. We don't know. "offered Lucius.

"Nate, can you do this?"

"No."

"You can't give up!"

"I ain't but Lucius here is a proper doctor and we can do it together. He's got his medicine bag with him . . .."

"We should not delay much longer and you can't all be in here. "ordered Lucius.

"Hang on . . ."

"He's right Buck. Give ‘em space to work. You need us, you holler." Vin agreed.

"Okay then," said Buck. He patted Chris's leg. "You hang in there stud. Nate's gonna fix you right up."

Chris managed to open his eye "Vin! . . .bleeding?"

"It's alright stud. I hit him. Don't you worry ‘bout a thing!" Buck reassured him.

Nathan was troubled. He would never forgive himself if Chris died, but then he couldn't * not * do anything. He had to try. The others would understand. He watched from the corner as Vin wiped Chris face one last time.

" Buck sorted ma tooth out, Chris. Saved me the price of a piece of string and the hassle of tying it to a doorknob . . .or Peso."

Chris laughed weakly before grimacing in pain. "Don't make me laugh . . .bloody Texan . . ."

Vin touched his forehead to Chris's "Don't go anywhere without me cowboy, not until we're both ready you hear me?" He thought hard clasping Chris's arm as he did so. Then he stood up.

"Nate whatever happens I know you'll do your best for him."

The last thing he heard as the door shut behind him was the new man asking if Nathan had ever used ether . . .

JD had taken the horses to the livery but Vin wanted to check up on them himself. It gave him something to do for a bit. Pony and Peso were in good hands, he saw JD had already taken the saddles off and was beginning to rub Pony down. He nodded to JD and started on his own horse.  The steady motion of looking after Peso took his mind off what was going on in Nathan's clinic. If he wanted back in there anytime soon he'd best clean up. Bath , then food, it was a simple plan.

0o00o0o

Vin waited on the steps and closed his eyes sending healing thoughts to his friend inside. It was a long time before Josiah came out.

"He's still with us son."

Vin relaxed and stood up.

"Hang on, give them a chance to clean up in there first." Vin turned as he heard steps behind him – Buck.

"Well?"

"It's over . . .." Buck paled as Vin realised what Buck thought he meant.

"No! I meant the docs‘re finished. Chris is holding on, just gotta wait."

Finally they were allowed in for a minute.

"S'gonna be alright Nathan?" Vin asked. Nathan traded glances with the new guy.

"Nathan?" Buck said loudly worried by the lack of immediate reassurance

"Probably."

"What kind of an answer is that?" shouted Buck "Did you fix him or not?"

"We located the infection and cleaned it out. We'll probably have to repeat that. He's ill and likely to remain so for a while."

Chris lay still on the bed, Buck and Vin strained to see his chest rise and fall.

"He ain't gonna wake up any time soon so you can just clear out right now."

"But . . ."

"Go. We need to watch him closely."

0o0o0o0o0

There was no pain that was his first fuzzy thought. The next was that he couldn't see or move. Trapped in cotton wool and fog Chris struggled to surface. Lucius saw the frown appear on his patient's face, the breathing quickened and a hand twitched. He moved his head slightly and then seemed to go back to sleep.

An hour or so later, the frown was back, his mouth opened and closed, his eyes moved restlessly under the lids. Lucius noted this as well. He got up and shook Nathan awake. If Chris had a hard time with the ether, things were going to get messy. A minute later he tilted Chris's head and got him to swallow some water. Heavy eyelids opened half way and slid shut and a sound like "hmmm" escaped as he drifted off again.

Where the hell was he? If only he could open his eyes. His old friend pain was back. Insistent. Throbbing. He groaned. There . . .Voices! One eye sluggishly opened. Chris did not recognise who he saw. Panicking he struggled to lift his head, his stomach lurched and he could not control or avoid the resulting mess. Chris became vaguely aware of a bowl in front of him. Finally it was over and he lay back panting with effort and pain. "Nathan? Who..what . . .?"

"It's okay Chris he's a doctor. He's helping me." He answered wiping Chris's face and tugging at the sheets so he could change them.

"Happened? Vin okay?" Chris tried to look past him to the other cot.

"Stay still don't wantcha bustin' them fancy stitches the first day!"

"Gunshot ‘n Vin and blood..." Chris muttered. Nausea overwhelmed him again, the bowl reappeared.

"Calm down, "Nathan urged. Lucius brought over a cup of watered laudanum but Chris weakly tried to bat it away.

The door burst open and Vin strode in still trying to button up his shirt and pull his suspenders over his shoulders.

"Vin!" Chris gasped in relief sinking back down into the pillow.

"Can't leave you for a minute ‘n you get in a mess, cowboy," he said.

Chris gave a choked laugh "Not a cowboy," he said choking on the water Nathan fed him. "What th' hell's goin' on?" he asked ignoring both doctors attempts to feed him the medicinal drink.

"If I tell you, will you drink this?" Vin bargained.

Chris sighed and nodded. Vin wouldn't lie to him.

"Be quick, needs his rest and a clean up," muttered Nathan in Vin's ear.

Chris opened his working eye "Heard that Nathan."

"Remember the bounty hunter?"

"Umm, he shoot me?"

"No."

"Was after you, shoot you?"

"No we're all jus' fine."

"You had blood. I saw..."

"I lost that tooth that was bothering me you remember?" Vin explained. He kept it simple, not wanting him to know just yet how Buck thought he'd shot him.

"Yes. Then what's wrong? Why the doctor?"

"Nathan and this here's Lucius Marric--- had to cut you open. You weren't healed right after Jericho .

"Knew sumthin' wasn't right . . .bastard . . .." Just the thought of Jericho made his gut lurch again . . .

"Warden and Quince? Yes they were. Now drink this and quiet down."

"No, me- ungrateful bastard, n' you still came after me . . .."

"Of course we did Chris."

Chris turned away for a moment, one hand stealing down to his side to feel the thick swathe of bandages.

"Pony, okay?" Chris frowned, blinking trying to collect scattered bits of memory.

"He's fine too. Now drink this." Vin urged, ready with the medicine. Chris's eye slid shut and he relaxed onto the pillow.

"You know I'm gonna tell Buck you asked after Pony and not him," Vin said with a grin.

Chris's mouth quirked up in a little smile "Sneaky Texan . . ." he muttered.

"Heard that, now shut up and go to sleep."

Nathan and Lucius watched the exchange. In mere moments Vin had calmed Chris down told him what he wanted to know and got the tea in him. Chances were they'd have to repeat the entire conversation again in a few hours, but for now all was quiet. With Vin's extra hands they made quick work of tidying Chris up and dealing with clean sheets.

"He is going to be alright isn't he?" Vin asked, worried by Chris's confusion and sickness.

"That's probably the after effect of the anaesthesia- the ether. It put him to sleep for the operation. But . . .some people have a problem with it in their bodies after an operation. Makes them very nauseous. It appears that your friend Larabee is one of them."

"But the cuttin' you did -that worked didn't it?"

"As far as we can tell, yes. But we'll watch out for infection from that too. It's going to be a rough day or two till we know for sure."

"Oh."

"Tell me why did you come to see Mr Larabee, just now?"

Vin looked in surprise at the doctor "He's ma friend, why shouldn't I visit?" he said sharply

"I realise that, but how did you, could you know that he was calling for you? If you hadn't intervened . . ."

Vin shifted in the chair "Just knew I had to come. Somethin' wrong with that?"

"Not at all."

"Good. Y'all look tuckered out. I'll get some of the others to relieve ya. Get some food from the Saloon." Vin left.

Lucius turned to Nathan "You weren't surprised Nathan. You've seen that before."

"Yup. Don't understand it, but I thank the Lord for it."

0o0o0o0

"How'd he get the drop on Chris . . .?" JD asked

"Don't know, but my guess cause he was injured more than he thought he was . . ."

"Oh..I hadn't thought of that."

"This doc- he an okay guy?" Buck asked his young friend.

"Yes. They really going to cut him open . . .?"

"Have to kid."

"Oh . . .how long til we know?"

Buck shrugged "Don't know."

"Hate waiting."

"So do I, kid so do I "and Buck took another drink and tried not to think about Chris maybe dying. Mean, cocky bastard was gonna die one day. Buck just didn't plan on it being like this instead of a good gunfight or preferably old age thought Buck grimly. Not that Chris had thought about old age in the last few years when he was trying so hard not to make it to the next hour, day or week.

Vin entered the saloon to hear Buck's slurred voice.

"What kind of fool name is Lucius anyways?" Buck‘s head rested on his forearm across the table. The other hand absently twirling a shot glass puddled in whiskey on the table top.

"Well dandy or not, seems to have fixed Chris."

Buck sat up.

"He's awake. Or was. Sick but okay for now. Why dontcha go ‘n see?" Vin said softly.

Buck blinked and suddenly lurched to his feet and rushed out the batwing doors. "The docs need some down time. " Vin said pointedly.

Josiah nodded and headed over to the clinic.

Lucius'd warned them that Chris might be sick again and he was right. They just cleaned him up and got as much liquid and broth down him as they could.

Chris had never felt so wretched in his life. He could feel a fever rising in him and could do nothing about it, it swept him away

The last thing Chris clearly remembered was being bound and Vin and a gunshot.

0o0o0o0o0

Déjà vu

Voices in the dark. Taunting. Yelling -hitting him. He rolled from the punches, the batons.  Breathing heavily he suddenly came to for a second. Eyes open, head jerked up off the pillow. Unfocused, the room spun, agony in his belly. Hands reached for him. He ignored them rolled to the edge of the bed and was sick.

Briefly. Noisily. Painfully. Groaned. Spat.

Lay there gathering pieces of himself together.

What. The. Hell?

Failed.

Slid back into the dark.

Fever burned through him baking him dry. What had happened? Couldn't remember. Was he back in the Hole?

"Not going back! Can't make me you bastards."

"It's okay."

"Watch out! Rattler!"

"Ain't no rattler, boss, just us. Take it easy."

"Look out!"

"Stop that- you'll ruin everything."

"No, gotta get it . . ."

Buck and Vin wrestled, trying to keep Chris in bed as he tried to look for a non existent snake.

"What in tarnation is that all about?" Buck cursed as Nathan checked Chris out.

Vin thought about what he'd seen the first time he caught up with Chris in the prison by the hole on the ground.

"We know he killed the Warden and Sheriff, cause he told us."

"So?"

"Snake bite make a mans face go all puffy and all? A rattler bite?"

"Could be"

"A rattler got the warden not Chris." Vin confirmed.

"That was lucky"

"Odd though."

0o0o0o0

Chris struggled upwards, straining to hear the voices. He had to hear what they were saying. He'd been here before in the Hole- voices yelling and taunting him. "Not going back, you can't make me!" he yelled.

Torment. Death and destruction. Fire and bodies. Pain. He moved and agony dragged him under, smothering him again. The voices remained distant but insistent.

He was burning. So hot. He was in the fire that killed his family. He looked for them, pushing away hands that grabbed him, crying out for his wife and son.

Vin leant over Chris trying to still the writhing body while Nathan wiped the sweat off.

"It's alright Chris. They're safe now. Rest up now" Vin soothed as Nathan changed the dressing again. The infection was much less now he was glad to see.

Chris fought against Vin as he yelled "Fowler!" and collapsed back on to the bed, lying deathly still. Nathan hurried to check the sweat soaked body of their leader.

"He's still with us Vin. Think that's the fever burning out of him. Best get to washing ‘im and changing into dry stuff. Keep him warm."

"Sure? I mean I thought he was .."

"I know it look scary but once he gets some rest and food under his belt he'll be okay."

"Lord knows he's a mite scrawny right now Nathan. This rate he'll need another notch on his gun belt to hold his pants up!"

When Buck came by at lunchtime he found Vin asleep by Chris's bed. He looked at his oldest friend; the feverish colour had gone at last. It was strange to see him so still, so quiet hardly breathing. Chris seemed such a strong forceful man that to see him pale and so thin like this was hard. To reassure himself he gently touched Chris's cheek with the back of his hand- felt normal. Chris didn't wake up, and Buck saw that Vin was quietly watching him from under his hat.

Buck was glad Chris had taken to the quiet scruffy tracker, that dusty day they'd saved Nathan. Chris was still grim and moody a lot of the time, but now and then smiles and genuine warmth leaked out, making him almost like the old Chris Larabee he remembered.

Now Chris was settled and out for the count Buck had one question to ask Vin, one he'd wanted to ask for days.

"How'd you know it wasn't Chris under all that black and Pony and all?"

"'Cause when I rode up a while back, it was a bit darker."

"And that helped how?" Buck asked with a frown- and he'd thought Ezra was confusing . . ..

"He called out to me . . ."

"And you knew it wasn't him?"

"No, it was Chris alright."

"Then..?" Buck was confused . . ..it was and it wasn't Chris?

"It was what Chris said; he was trying to warn me. It worked, put me on ma guard and I just looked for more clues. All the while it got lighter and then I knew fer sure."

"But he had all of Chris' things, even Pony."

"Yeah, but Pony was fussing and I knew what that meant. Now I know he was after the reward, I figure he wanted Larabee alive to see and hear him shoot me, make him feel bad. But when he raised his gun up, as you came into view, I saw his white shirt. Our Chris ain't worn white in a long time and especially not since Jericho . Hell, that shirt was one he must've got on his travels that time."

"But he still put his gun up Vin."

"Yeah but I had him pegged by then anyway and when he said goodbye, that was just extra ‘cause I knew it weren't Chris then and he knew it. Then you showed up just at the right moment. ‘Sides, he wore the coat wrong and held the Colt different. Like I said, just needed to see what was really there."

Buck couldn't help but agree. Vin always saw what was there even when there were invisible signs . . .and maybe it was part of that connection the two men seemed to have. He was glad it wasn't Chris's time to die yet, they had more adventures to look forward to, he was sure of that.

0o0o0o0

Chris slept the day out- any time he woke they fed and watered him. Dimly he thought he should complain a bit louder but he did not have the energy to stop them from doing the most intimate of tasks.

Chris woke one time to find the doctor sitting patiently in the room. He lay gathering the scraps of information he'd been told . . .

"Just who the hell are you?" Chris squinted at him.

"Someone trying to help you," came the calm reply. Chris had to agree to that as Nathan and the others seemed fine with him.

"Tastes nasty," he groused as he sipped yet more tea.

"Drink, it's good for you." Lucius had a basin in hand as he watched Chris's face turn greenish once more. It was a delicate balancing act, saving a life but the reaction was playing havoc with Larabee's stomach. He needed food to recover. This was not going to be easy.

The others had a sense of what Ezra called déjà vu- once again they were caring for a sick Chris. Lucius and Nathan impressed upon them all that Chris' body was exhausted and would take him a while to get fit again. They could all see how thin he was. Now that the sickness from the ether and fever from the operation had finally passed, he still wasn't eating properly. That too would take time. Chris had always been lean but had a good appetite when he put his mind to it.

Chris slowly recovered and sometimes he even fell asleep in mid sentence, which annoyed him and amused the hell out of everybody else. Seemed like every time he woke up someone different in was in the room.

"What's wrong with me? I can't get up. Lying here like some useless . . ." Chris groused to anyone who'd listen . . ..

"You've been very ill. It'll take time to get your energy back. And you need to eat!" Buck urged . . ..

"Huh."

"You want to get well?" Nathan asked . . .

"Yeah.." Chris dragged out like a sulky child . . .

"Well, then . . ."

Reluctantly Chris did what he was told . . .didn't stop him from still falling asleep every five minutes but he didn't mind. Vin had brought him a book to read, since he often sat with one. And although he couldn't summon the energy to lose himself in it yet, he liked the feel of it in his hands all the same. Chris smiled as he realised Vin knew that. Gradually he stayed awake and moved around more, until he was almost his old self, just slower.

It was impressed upon him that it would take time for him to regain his full strength and appetite. Chris just nodded. At first they were relieved and then they started to worry. They expected some cursing and fighting and muttering, but he just rested and slowly ate small portions of food when he could.

They all visited- dispensing varying degrees of information, card games and illicit booze. Chris even appreciated JD's enthusiastic details about the man Mrs Quince had hired. When JD had told him his famous joke, he didn't let on that he knew it. He just did what the others did and didn't laugh. But he did surprise JD by offering him a joke in return.

"Where do you find a dog with no legs...right where you left him!"

Vin was glad he was on the mend at last. He had asked Nathan and the doctor over and over if it was his fault that Chris had gotten ill- if he hadn't cleaned the wound properly the first time back after Jericho ?

Nathan had told him not to worry, he'd done fine. Nathan admitted he'd felt guilty too, he was the healer in town and he hadn't seen to Chris. Lucius had said it was just one of those things. The doctor had stayed to check that Chris was out of danger and because he still wanted to talk to him about Jericho .

"I know what you went through in that prison." he suddenly said to Chris one afternoon knowing by now that it was best to be direct with the gunslinger.

Chris shut his book with a soft thud. "Do you?" he said curtly.

"I do."

"How do you know and why would you want to?"

"You remember who I am?"

"Doctor, passing through. Your brother was in Jericho . Sorry I don't know if I know him..." Chris replied.

"Not exactly passing through. I came to see you specifically . . ." Lucius could see he had Chris's full attention.

"Explain."

Lucius recognised it as less of a request and more of an order.

"The others know what you're about to say? " Chris asked.

"No. Generalities only- not the specifics. And I am a real doctor, don't worry about that."

"My brother Ambrose was much older than me. Hard headed, but he made his way in the world. He got caught in Jericho , actually, he let himself be caught. He was trying to gather evidence. He expected to be able to get out somehow. But he was stubborn, proud and hard headed . . ." he glanced at Chris.

"Sounds familiar. " admitted Chris ruefully.

"Well, Ambrose was more than they bargained for. They found out who he was and things got bad for him. You see he was a US Marshall . They killed the guard who didn't like what was going on and had promised to get him out to tell the story. They nearly killed him when he tried to get into the office for the ledger book of names . . .The Hole wore him down. He got sick. He got beaten up and in the end he died."

"I'm sorry to hear that . . ."

"You don't understand, his number was Inmate 46."

"My God! He was alive when we left I swear it! I tried to help him . . ."

"I know you did and I know what happened to you because of that. Simmons told me. Many of the other prisoners told me. I wanted to thank you for having the conviction to try in such appalling conditions!"

Chris flinched as he remembered the Warden beating him for his efforts. "I would have done it for anybody . . ."

"He was a stranger to you. And it wasn't in vain. He died knowing he was free I'm grateful for that. Sadly he was too ill and he died before I could get there. I'm still trying to come to terms with that. One more day and maybe . . .I could have done something . . .."

"I know how that feels." Chris said.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You and your men shut down a corrupt and parasitical operation at the prison and in the town. Hopefully things will change under the new regime. Time will tell. And you, Mr Larabee are alive and kicking and from what I hear and see that's a good thing!"

"Hmmm, reckon a few might dispute that opinion." Chris yawned. "Sorry not your company ‘m just tired."

"That's alright. I've given you a lot to think about. I've done what I set out to do and must be on my way."

0o0o0o0

Squaring the circle

Vin met Mary in the middle of the street carrying an untouched dinner tray back to the saloon.

"That Chris'?"

She nodded in reply "I left it an hour ago."

"He sick again, or not hungry?"

"No, still asleep."

"What?"

"Nathan says it's fine and he'll wake up soon enough. Try again later."

Vin ran lightly up the steps and hurried along the landing to Nathan's clinic and quietly opened the door. Nathan turned round from his desk.

Vin sat next to Chris. He looked okay, just asleep like Mary had said. No restless movements or mumbling.

"This is good right?"

Nathan nodded.

Vin stretched out in the chair, ankles crossed listening to Chris's soft breathing. Soft and quiet. No fussin'.

Some time later Chris' breathing hitched and he moved.Took a breath and opened his eyes and saw his babysitters.

"Starvin' "he muttered. "Time is it? "He yawned.

"Afternoon."

Chris rubbed his whiskery face. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Cause maybe you're still recoverin'?"

"Well quit looking at me like that I ain't dying. Chris groaned as he sat up in bed.

"Not now... but..." Vin broke off as he glanced at Nathan.

"But what?"

"You're on the mend now don't matter . . ."

Nathan realised Vin wanted to talk to Chris alone and left saying he needed some fresh air.

"I'm sorry bout what I said back in the livery," Vin said as soon as Nathan shut the door.

Chris blinked "Old news now I reckon after getting caught and pissing off the warden and all."

"Don't change the subject." Vin warned.

"Well what do you want me to say, you were right I was wrong? I put you all at risk coming to rescue me . . .Nathan got shot."

"He's okay."

"Coulda been worse!"

"Was- you nearly died!"

"You had to say it!"

"Shut up! We're all okay. Did you think we'd not look for you? You'd have gone looking for Buck."

"Yeah. But only as far as someone else's bed!"

"You'd look for me. Or any of the others." Vin pressed.

"Reckon. That's if you don't go round trying to kill yourself leaping off roofs and all!"

"Ya ain't never gonna let that go! You can't save everybody!" Vin replied angrily.

"Think I don't know that!"

"That came out wrong. What I mean is you can't stop us from doing what we do and we couldn't stop you! Most of the time we're fine. We get through when it ain't fine."

"I guess, "Chris relented.

"So tell me about how you killed the warden." Vin asked Chris, surprising him for the second time. He really was off his game . . .

"Why? Dead is dead." He replied calmly.

Vin shrugged, "Just tying up lose ends." He wanted to hear Chris say it.

"It's over let it go."

"Sorry I can't. Taking you long enough to get over everything as it is. Something's still going on. Unsettling you. You're no good to us until you get it sorted."

Chris sat silent and Vin was convinced he was going to be ignored. Was better than being punched again or shouted at. Meant Chris knew he needed help.

"I was in the Hole. They threw a rattler in just to be sure." Were the words Chris eventually said.

"Sure of what?"

"To kill me. I knew their game, pushed and they didn't like it."

"So how'd you get to the Warden and get out without bein' bit?"

Chris looked bleak for a moment remembering his frantic scurrying in the hole and abject fear of dying like that.

"Grabbed the sucker and stuck him in the Warden's face. After that it was easy."

"God!" Vin exclaimed.

"I don't like snakes. "Chris said quietly but firmly.

Vin understood then, that it had been pure instinct and fighting for his life that Chris had done so. He realised that there was more to this. Chris had a reason for his statement. But this wasn't the time for that story and he hoped that one day Chris would tell him.

"So you can wrangle snakes now as well as busting broncos, cowboy?"

Chris laughed.

"You gotta have more lives than a cat Chris, to get to where you are now. Seems like you can't die so you gotta live. And you can't stand that. Settling here, the cabin it scares you. Might lose it, us again. Know I ain't stayed in one place so long myself. Gets me itchy."

Chris looked away, hands fiddling with the blanket.

"You might be right about that." he sighed. "But that don't give you the right to say what you did back in the livery."

"I know. I'd take it back I'fn you'd let me."

"We ain't good when we get mad at each other, huh? " Chris gave a crooked smile

"Nope. My bad tooth and little sleep had a little to do with that too..."

"Thing is . . .my life . . .the ranch was everything. Sarah and Adam..." Chris paused his mind far off remembering "...they made it about the best a man could ever hope for and I knew it, just didn't realise how much til I lost them. The horses, the land were hard work but I wouldn't; trade it . . .."

Vin waited for him to continue.

"Buck and I go back a few years, the war and all there's a tight bond too. But good in a tight spot- none better. Some times we needed to let off steam on buying trips. Left the wild women to Buck and just had a few whiskeys and late nights . . .a fight or two . . .but I always come back home to them. Buck loved that he was family too. So in a way you were half right. And I don't think when I get mad. So we'll call it quits and move on."

Chris stuck out his arm and Vin clasped it firmly.

"What are you doing?" He asked as Chris flipped the cover back and sat on the edge of the bed.

"What does it look like? Hand me my pants. I want to sit outside like a normal person for a change!"

"Nathan say you could?"

Chris glared at him "Just help me up and we'll sort him later."

"You know that he's right outside the door?"

"Then I'll already be upright and he can talk about it sooner rather than later!"

Vin gave up and helped.

Outside, Nathan stood along the open gallery above the livery and had heard the voices in the room behind him. First soft then rising in volume and anger and he had taken one step toward the door when he heard a laugh and normal tones carry on. It went quiet. He heard movement and shuffling. The door opened to reveal Chris at the door with Vin's arm round his waist lending support as always.

"Nathan." Chris smiled.

Nathan didn't trust himself to say anything other than "Uhuh" and watch as Chris lowered himself into the chair on the balcony. Vin grabbed the blanket folded on the back and flipped it open and over Chris's knees.

Chris glared at him, Vin stared back. Nathan watched the silent battle until Chris grunted and settled back in the chair, blanket intact.

"Saloon?" asked Vin.

"Coffee," nodded Chris "And dinner- I ain't been fed lately." he called out.

Nathan watched again as Chris gingerly stretched out his legs with a little wince and unconscious move of his hand to his bandaged side. He went back inside.

Chris grinned and watched Vin cross the street to the saloon. He nodded to Buck standing slouched against the pillar outside. Watching out for him as always. He sat back, glad to be outside and watch the world go by and decided he was glad to be alive despite several good attempts to the contrary.

END