The Devil's Spawn by Winnie Follows "Devil's Destiny" and contains references to "The Price of a Broken Promise" Alternate Universe: The Firm WARNING: Graphic depiction of violence and torture.

Part 1

Taos, New Mexico 1960

The boy scrambled into the empty closet, away from the screaming match between the people who called themselves his parents. At eight years old he was big for his age, and had seen more than most people saw in a full life. His blasty red hair was cropped close to his skull. Dark brown eyes, set close together, showed no emotion. He smiled as he listened to the loud, screeching voices. They weren't his real parents, he'd known that for a long time now. They were his relatives, but his mother died at childbirth and his father died in prison. His father, he remembered little about him, but he knew already he was destined to be like him, and his father, and his father before him. Somehow he would find a way to get the book back. If he watched and waited, it would be his. He remembered some of the words and knew they were meant for him. His so-called mother was now in possession of the book, but he wouldn't let it stay that way very long. He would get the book back, and he would fulfill the wishes of his great, great grandfather. He walked out of the closet and to the door, knowing his ancestor would not wish to see him cowering from these weaklings. The woman he called mother had called him the devil's spawn more than once and he knew she was closer to the truth than she realized. He would find a way to take his destiny, and he would not let her interfere. He took a deep breath and watched the people in the other room. He watched as the man removed a loose floorboard beside the fireplace and the woman placed the book underneath it. He knew where it was and he would come back for it. He looked around the empty rooms, knowing the house was being closed and they were moving to Reno, Nevada. He knew there was gambling in the city and once he was old enough he would make a name for himself there. Money was something he would need if he was to be the same man his great, great, grandfather had been.

Reno, Nevada, 20022

He stood in his bedroom looking out over the brightly lit city. At 50 years of age his red hair was speckled with gray. He knew it only enhanced his appearance and refused to dye it. His destiny would soon be fulfilled. He owned the casino/hotel he was in and was considered a success in every sense of the word. Women and men clamored to be part of his life, but there was something missing and now he remembered what it was.

The Book! He had to go back to Taos, New Mexico and retrieve the treasured book. He knew the house was still there, although another family had lived there for years. Not that it mattered; he would get rid of them if he needed to. His flight to Taos would be leaving at seven am. Mark Winston was not only his pilot, but also a man who seemed to understand who and what his employer was. From the moment they met Winston offered his support and his loyalty. They'd bought a small luxury plane and Winston flew him anywhere he needed to go. Mark Winston was his friend, his confidant, his pilot, and anything else he needed him to be.

He walked to the bed, his body trembling in anticipation of what tomorrow would bring. The Book, his great, great grandfather's book would soon be back in his hands where it belonged. Sleep would not come easily for him tonight, but often his body could do without it longer than most. He smiled into the darkness, knowing the days to come would be filled with finding out about his destiny.

Billings, Montana, 2002

Vin Tanner looked at his best friend and smiled. "You're kidding, right?" he asked as he looked at the printout from the computer.

Chris smiled at the sharpshooter as he took the printout back. "Not at all. I've been thinking about it for a while now. I've always wanted to do something like this. Had a trip planned with Adam and Sarah, but we never did get around to it."

Tanner frowned, not because he didn't like the idea, but because it was something he never thought Chris Larabee would be interested in. It just didn't fit with his image of The Firm's leader and yet, even he called the blond 'Cowboy'.

"Ghost towns, Chris?" Tanner asked.

"Not just any ghost towns, Vin, Old West ghost towns. Places where they had real gunslingers and gunfights. A place where day-to-day life could get you called out to defend your name or your family. Or get you killed because you had the nerve to live there."

"Chris, I have a feeling you had a few cowboy relatives in your background," Tanner explained.

"Yeah, actually my great, great grandfather was a well known gunslinger. Okay not as well known as Wyatt Earp or Buffalo Bill Cody or anything, but he was a lawman."

The sharpshooter's eyes opened wide in excitement. "You're kiddin' me ain't ya, Chris?"

"Not at all. There's not much known about him, but he was a lawman in a small town called Four Corners. I remember my grandfather telling stories about him, but not the details. Grandfather died before he could finish his book on our Old West ancestors, but..." Larabee lapsed into silence as he walked to the large office window.

"But, what?"

"I remember him telling me how my great, great grandfather lost his wife and son to a f...fire."

"Oh, hell, Chris, That's gotta be hard."

"It's okay, Vin. I mean I miss Sarah and Adam, but I have their memories and I won't let them go. Now about this little trip we're going on..."

"We? What do you mean we?" the sharpshooter asked excitedly.

Chris saw the light in the other man's eyes and knew he had him hooked. Vin Tanner grew up in Texas and loved anything dealing with the Old West. When he was researching for this trip he did it with the idea that the two of them would be going. Sharing a love of the Old West and the excitement of those times was an added bonus.

"I was planning on asking you if you'd like to come along. I mean I know you'd probably rather stay here and..."

"No...No!" the sharpshooter protested vehemently as he met the laughing green eyes of the blond. "I mean, Chris, I'd love to go. I mean I understand if ya wanna go alone..."

"Wouldn't ask if I didn't want you along, Tanner."

"We're going ghost hunting."

"No we're not, Vin. We're going to visit a few old ghost towns."

"Ghost towns should have ghosts, right?"

Larabee heard the teasing tone in his friend's voice and knew he was pulling his leg. "Right, and if you're not careful one of them will jump out and go Boo!" he laughed.

"Sure hope she's a looker then. When do we leave?"

"I have a few things to finish up with Travis. I need to make sure Josiah knows where Buck and JD are and what's happening with the case they're on. Ezra and Nathan are in California testifying on that drug running operation. They're due back early next week. I figure we should be able to leave a week from Friday. That gives you nine days to get your paperwork filled out and loose ends tied up. Think you can do it, Cowboy?"

"Hell, yeah. Ghost towns! Never thought I'd see the day Chris Larabee would go poking around in old buildings."

"Well, hell, Cowboy, it's gotta be safer than some of our other vacations," Larabee grinned at the sheepish look on the other man's face. Their vacations had a way of turning deadly without warning.

"Yeah," Tanner agreed as he remembered being stranded on the island. Larabee nearly lost his life on that little vacation, for that matter they all came close to dying because of a modern day pirating operation.

"Don't look so serious, Vin, nothing's going..."

"Don't say it, Chris. Let's just forget what happened in the past and look forward to this one. I'd best get started on the paperwork if we're gonna be leaving next week."

Larabee looked out into the main office and smiled at the backlog of papers in Tanner's inbox. This was the part of the job the sharpshooter hated. He needed to fill out a report for each and every time he was called to use his gun whether he actually shot it or not. "I don't envy you, Pard," he said sympathetically.

"Well ya could help," Tanner said.

"I could, but I think I'd rather go visit Mary and Billy. Promised I'd take Billy to the afternoon showing of Scooby Do." He'd been seeing Mary off and on for a few months now. They were taking things slow, neither one wanting to jump into a relationship without thinking. He wasn't sure how he felt about Mary, but he loved being around Billy Travis. The young boy was always excited to see him and Chris smiled as he remembered the kid's excitement when he mentioned going to the movies.

"Oh, so while I sit here putting a pen to useless paper you get to go watch a movie and eat popcorn and candy and chocolate and soda..."

"Vin, I don't eat that shit."

"Ya have to, Chris. I mean what's a movie without the treats..."

"Treats? Don't you mean junk food?"

"Hell no! Those are treats. Good treats. Don't tell me yer gonna make poor Billy eat rabbit food again. I mean ya can't take a kid to the movies and expect him to eat carrot sticks and celery sticks. It ain't right, Chris. Ya know maybe it'd be better for everyone if I came with you."

Larabee's eyebrows rose, but he couldn't hide the smile. He knew Tanner wanted to see Scooby Doo; it was all he'd talked about when the ads started. "You've got paperwork to do," Larabee reminded him.

"I'll get right on it when we get back. Come on, Chris, let me go with you guys." He smiled as a sudden thought struck him. "Just think, I could take Billy to the front and leave you to cuddle up with Mary in the back row. I mean I'm sure an old guy like you understands what happens in the back row of the movies."

"Tanner, I'm not much older than you and I don't need you telling me what goes on in the back row."

"Then I can come along?"

"Get your shit together and let's go," Larabee ordered. "Mary is expecting us in an hour."

"What time does the show start?" Tanner asked.

"We were planning on making the four pm showing. Josiah's going to stick around until closing time."

"It's not like there's much to do, Chris. I mean it's pretty boring without JD, Buck, Nathan, and Ezra around. I kind of miss the kid's weird jokes and Buck teasing him about women."

"Speak for yourself, Tanner, I'm enjoying the peace and quiet."

Vin could tell his friend missed the others as much as he did. He simply smiled at Larabee and grabbed the black leather jacket from his chair. "Let's go see my hero."

"Your hero?"

"Yeah. I mean Scooby Doo is..."

"Oh, shit, Vin, don't tell me Scooby Doo is your hero?"

"Of course he is, Cowboy. I mean the way he protects Shaggy..."

"By hiding behind him..."

"Scooby never did that and besides he's always looking after Scrappy..."

"Ya know, Vin, maybe letting you around Billy is not such a good idea," he stopped as he saw a look of regret in Tanner's eyes. "Wipe that look of your face, Vin. There's no one else I'd rather see Billy look up to. You're a good man, Vin Tanner, even if your tastes are a little on the strange side."

The teasing light was back where it belonged and the sharpshooter's blue eyes danced mischievously. "Strange side. What's that supposed to mean?"

"Vin, you forget, I've seen the things you eat."

"Oh, that," Tanner smiled. "Well I got a strong stomach," he said as he pushed the elevator button.

"Guess I do to or I'd get sick just watching you eat that shit you call health food," Larabee answered.

"Don't knock it till ya try it, Cowboy," the tracker laughed as they entered the elevator. He was looking forward to seeing the movie with Billy Travis. Scooby Doo was an old favorite of his and he remembered watching it at his friend's house in Vernon. The cartoon had made him laugh when things were rough for him and he smiled at the thought of seeing the movie version of the cartoon on the big screen.

Chris looked at his friend and smiled. He knew a lot about the sharpshooter's background and understood how a much younger Vin grew to use cartoons as a way to get past some of the hardships he endured. He was glad Tanner was coming along with him, not only to the movie, but to the ghost towns as well.

+ + + + + + +

He relaxed back in the co-pilot's chair, The Book grasped tightly in his hands. It was his now as it was always meant to be. He held it close to his nose and smelled the musty odor of age. He knew what was on the inside page, he'd ran his fingers over it as a boy. The name written so many years ago was faded and barely legible, but it still carried a strength with it. A strength that would soon be his. He sighed and closed his eyes. A tiny smile flickered on his face as he thought of the life he'd snuffed out in Taos.

Taos, New Mexico, 2002

He knocked at the door and waited impatiently for it to open. To be so close to The Book sent chills of anticipation down his spine. He knew it was still there, could feel its presence in spite of the years that passed since the last time he saw it. A woman dressed in tan slacks and a white blouse answered the door and he introduced himself. He used an alias, not wanting anything to lead back to him. He knew she was alone, Mark had checked the surrounding area, making sure no one was around. He asked if he could use her phone, but she refused him entry, saying she would be glad to make the call for him. Anger and impatience shone in his eyes as he felt The Book being withheld from him. It was his and no one would keep it from him. His hand snaked out and struck her savagely. She fell back against the floor and he reached for the blade in his pocket. He saw her hazel eyes darken in fear, saw the terror on her face as again and again he slashed at her. His first strike slashed through her throat so she couldn't scream. He knew it was a killing blow, but the blood lust was in him now and he struck again and again. He lost track of how many times he stabbed her, but he gained strength from each thrust of the blade into the yielding body. He sucked in a deep breath as his eyes fell on the spot he knew The Book would be. He crawled towards it, oblivious of the blood he left in his wake, blood belonging to the dead woman. He knew only that he needed to get The Book. He reached for the floorboard and took a deep breath as it came loose. It was there, just as he knew it would be. With trembling hands he lifted the treasure from its resting place. 'Finally, great, great Grandfather, I can finish what you started,' he thought. He stood up and walked out the door. Mark Winston stood there with a change of clothes and he smiled at his employee. "Torch it!" he said as he stripped in the front yard. He changed into the fresh clothing as the other man poured gasoline all through the house, concentrating on the dead woman in the living room. He threw his soiled clothing on top of her and watched through the open door as Winston torched the house and contents. "Let's go," he ordered as flames quickly engulfed the contents.

He held The Book tighter, smiling at the thought of reading it. He wanted to wait until he was home in Reno, a bottle of his finest Sherry beside him, and nothing to disturb him.

+ + + + + + +

The flight home from Taos had been quiet and subdued, as the passenger seemed lost in his thoughts. Mark Winston admired the man beside him, a man who wasn't afraid to take the bull by the horns to get what he wanted. He remembered watching as his employer knocked on the door and spoke to the woman who answered it. Now that woman was dead and he'd helped destroy any evidence that could show who did it. He returned his attention to flying the plane, as the man beside him seemed to fall into a deep sleep.

Billings, Montana, 2002

"Vin seems almost as excited as Billy," Mary observed as Chris paid for the popcorn, candy, and soda. She wasn't sure how she felt about the man beside her, but she knew whatever happened they would remain friends. She loved how he cared for Billy and wanted her son to look up to Chris Larabee.

"Yeah, I think Vin is still a kid at heart. Between him and JD cartoons will never go out of style. We'd better get this stuff in there before those two get rowdy."

"I think you're right," Mary agreed. She picked up the tray of drinks while Chris tucked the candy in his pockets.

Larabee shook his head at the two Scooby Doo buckets filled with heavily buttered popcorn. He could still hear Vin and Billy yelling that they wanted extra butter and lots of popcorn. He lifted the two buckets and reached for the plain popcorn he would share with Mary Travis. The couple walked towards the theatre and waited for their eyes to adjust to the lighting. Vin and Billy were chasing each other around in front of the screen and Chris couldn't help smiling at how relaxed Vin was around children. A fleeting image of Vin as a father nearly floored him. He knew Tanner would make an excellent father, and that he wouldn't let his own painful childhood make him into his old man. Vin Tanner had risen above the cruelty he suffered and was a man Chris was proud to call friend and brother.

"Chris!" The sharpshooter frowned as the other man seemed lost in another world. "Hey, Chris, ya gonna eat my popcorn?"

"Huh," Larabee shook himself and smiled as he descended the ramp.

"Are ya planning on eatin' all that popcorn or are ya gonna share?"

"Yeah, Chris, I want some popcorn and soda too."

"Let's not forget the candy. Ya did get us some of those black licorice whips didn't ya Chris?" Tanner's mouth watered in anticipation. "Scooby Doo, popcorn, soda, and candy, what better way to spend an afternoon?" He reached out and ruffled Billy's hair and smiled. "Right, kid?"

"Right, Vin," Billy laughed as he took the popcorn from Chris. "You and Mom gonna sit in the back, Chris? Vin says that's where the old folks sit." the boy asked innocently.

"Oh, he does, does he," Mary Travis looked towards the sharpshooter.

"Didn't mean you, Mary, but ya know Chris is gettin' up there."

"I'm not ready for the old folks home, Tanner."

"Ya could've fooled me, Chris. I mean I can hear yer old bones creaking all the way over to my ranch."

"Vin, Chris and I are the same age!" She saw the look on the tracker's face and knew she had him.

Vin looked from Mary to Chris and then back to the boy beside him. "I think I'd better shut up before I dig myself a deeper hole than I already have."

"I think you better, Vin," Larabee laughed as he handed over the popcorn and candy.

"Ah shi...shoot, Mary, I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know you didn't, Vin, but you do blush nicely."

"She's right, Tanner, you're kind of a deep red right now."

The sharpshooter didn't get a chance to answer as the lights went out and the familiar Scooby Doo music came on.

"Come on, Chris, guess we old folks better get our seats. We wouldn't want our creaking bones to interrupt the movie."

"Ah hell, Mary..."

"I'm kidding, Vin, It's just too easy to get a rise out of you." She took Chris by the arm and walked to the back of the theatre. She could feel Chris laughing as they took their seats. The theatre was less than quarter full and they sat back to enjoy the movie, popcorn and company.

Reno, Nevada, 20022

Everything was prepared for him. The lamp beside his leather recliner was on and a soft white glow cast eerie shadows around the room. The heavy drapes were closed, the door locked, and his orders were that he not be disturbed. A bottle of his favorite Sherry and a crystal goblet sat beside The Book. He smiled as he walked to the chair and sank into its comfortable depths. He poured the Sherry into the glass and took a sip, sighing as the liquid soothed his nerves. He placed the glass back on the table and picked up The Book.

A shudder ran through his thick frame as he held it in his hands. "Finally!" he whispered as he opened the dog-eared cover. Once more he ran his hand over the name on the inside cover. "Robert Maguire!" he said the name aloud, knowing he bore the same name and the same destiny, except his would not end as his ancestor's had.

Maguire opened to the first entry and read what he could decipher.

qqq'July 1848, my father cannot hurt me anymore. He is dead and has finally met the devil. He will burn in hell for all eternity for interfering in what is my destiny. I can still feel his green eyes on me as I slit his throat. Can feel his soul becoming mine, but it is not what I hoped for. There is something lacking and my need is nowhere near sated. I am leaving my home in search of my destiny. I know he is out there somewhere and I will find him.'xxx

'July 1852, this man was unworthy. Ronald Parker screamed from the beginning, his screeching voice grating on my nerves. He died slowly, but it was a coward's death. His screams were silenced when I shoved a gun in his mouth, but I did not kill him. I will not kill a man with a gun. It cannot provide what I need. I need that scream that will signal the loss of soul and the fulfillment of my destiny. I will continue to search for him. He is out there somewhere.'

Maguire reached for the glass as he read the details of his ancestor's quest for greatness. He was surprised to find the glass empty. He poured more of the liquid into it and took a small sip before continuing to read from The Book.

'July 1861, it's been a lot of years since I found someone who fits what I need. Johnny Mercer seemed perfect, blond hair, green eyes, six foot tall and very lean. The excitement ran through my body as I watched him. The nine years of nothing, of finding emptiness in my killings has finally ended. He is waking up now and he knows I will kill him tonight. His eyes have lost the will to live. The pain has been a constant for him for four days now and I will end it for him tonight. He is as unworthy as the others. He begged for his life, begged me to stop and therefore has shown how unworthy he is. The search will begin anew tomorrow. I know he is out there.'

qqq'July 1865, I was so sure Brian Barnes was the one, but again he has proven how unworthy he is. He actually cried when I used the whip on him. He didn't scream, he cried. Such unworthiness distresses me. I left him to die alone in that cave. I went back to be sure and could see he'd suffered greatly, but again, he is not what I want, what I need, what I crave. He is out there somewhere, I am sure of it!'xxx

qqq'July 1866, I found him so quickly. It has only been a year since my last victim. Joseph Carter will die tonight. The anniversary of my father's death. It is fitting, but will this man be the one. Again I felt the disappointment. Carter screamed, but it wasn't what I wanted. Will I ever find him? I am beginning to get discouraged. He is dead, but there was no feeling in it for me. He has to be out there somewhere and I need to find him before it is too late!'xxx

Maguire read the entries, unable to tear his eyes from the words written so long ago. He knew now he was like his great, great grandfather. There was something lacking in his life and he would need to discover what or who it was. He turned the final page in The Book and downed the last of the Sherry in his glass.

'July 1876, I found him today in a little town called Four Corners. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the one. He's dressed completely in black, his eyes so green and deep that I felt the strength and vulnerability in them. What makes him unique is that he won't back down. He met and held my eyes and it was finally me who dropped mine. I couldn't hold his glare any longer and still be able to stand. There is so much to this man, I can sense it, feel it. His confidence oozes from his body as he stands up and walks into the saloon. I must find out more about him. I confronted him and his friend in the saloon. I talked to him and his friend. His friend seems cold to me, maybe he senses my plans for his friend. It doesn't matter; I will have what I need. My body is actually tingling with anticipation. I have his name and it was worth the few coins I gave the drunk outside. Chris Larabee has to be the one. He seems so worthy and I am ready to make his soul mine. To prove that I am the only one worthy of owning him. I watched him and his friend work on his house outside of town and knew this would be the perfect place to grab and hold my destiny. To complete what I started so many years ago. To be whole once again. This is My Destiny and yours as well Chris Larabee.'

He turned the page once more and found a different hand must have wrote the next words. He picked up a small piece of a newspaper clipping, yellowed with age and blurred beyond reading except for two names. Robert Maguire and Chris Larabee jumped out at him. He placed the newspaper clipping at the beginning of the book and started reading the final entry.

'September 1876, I'm sitting here, alone, staring at our son. Bobby will know what happened to his father. He will know and understand about his father. I am not going to shed tears for Robert Maguire. He would not appreciate my showing weakness. He is dead, of that I am sure. Dead because he dared to seek what was rightfully his. The clipping says that Chris Larabee has recovered from his ordeal. Ordeal? How can they call Robert's destiny, Larabee's ordeal. I know there is nothing I can do about Robert's death, but I can see to it that his son remembers it. Bobby will know and understand that he is different from other boys. He is Robert's son and sooner or later the destiny that is meant to be will be his. Some day Robert Maguire will find and kill Chris Larabee. This is and always will be his destiny.'

Robert Maguire closed The Book on the past, his past. He knew what he needed to do and he needed to get started. This was July and although he didn't know the exact date when his great, great grandfather killed his father, it was coming soon. He had a lot of planning to do. He needed to find out if Chris Larabee from Four Corners had any living relatives. If he did was he the match that would allow destiny to complete itself.

Billings, Montana, 2002

The movie ended and Chris and Mary waited by the door for Vin and Billy to exit the theatre. Chris smiled at the blond woman, knowing she'd enjoyed the movie about as much as he did. He knew it would've been one he'd have brought Adam to see, but he was never a big fan of Scooby Doo. He smiled as he thought of Huckleberry Hound; the blue dog had always been a favorite of his.

"Chris, what are you thinking about?"

"I was just thinking how much cartoons have changed over the years. I mean for me it was Huckleberry Hound and Yogi Bear..."

"Oh, Chris, I remember watching those. My favorite was Quick Draw McGraw and his sidekick..."

"Baba Looie?"

"That's him! I used to laugh so hard when Quick Draw would tell Baba Looie, 'I do the thinnin' 'round 'ere and don't you fergit it!"

Larabee couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out as Mary did a near perfect imitation of Quick Draw McGraw. "Mary, you have to do that for Buck when he gets back. Buck thinks he's the best McGraw imitator there is, but he's got nothing on you. That was great!"

"What was great?" Vin asked as he and Billy joined them.

"Oh, just talking about something before your time, Vin. I mean Chris and I being old and creaky, well, you just wouldn't understand."

"Ah, he...heck, Mary, I didn't mean nothin' by it. Just ask Chris. He knows I'm kiddin' around."

"Vin."

"What, Chris?"

"She's pulling your leg again."

"What? Oh," the blushing tracker laughed again as he watched Chris scoop Billy into his arms.

"Well, Billy, did you like the movie?"

"Oh, yeah, Chris! Pull my finger!" The boy held out his index finger as Chris and Vin erupted in laughter.

"Billy!" Mary gasped.

"Ah come on, Mom, Shaggy did it."

"Yeah, Mary, Shaggy did it. I mean it's a natural part of life," Tanner teased and smiled as Mary's face turned crimson red. "Got ya!"

"I guess we know what their favorite scene was, Mary," Larabee said.

"Nah, Chris, I liked the hot peppers and ketchup at the end."

"Yeah, Billy, those peppers must've been real hot."

"Okay, you two," Chris interrupted. "Where do you want to eat?"

Vin scooped Billy from the older man's arms and smiled conspiratorially at the boy. "Hey, kid, are you in the mood for..."

"Scooby snacks," Billy finished as Vin tickled him.

"I don't think so, young man. There's no way we're eating dog biscuits for dinner."

"What's wrong with dog biscuits? I mean Mel Gibson ate them in Lethal Weapon," Tanner teased again.

"Vin?"

"Yeah, Cowboy?"

"We will not eat dog food or anything remotely resembling it. Understood?"

"Looks like we're dining with two old fogies, Billy."

"That's okay. Maybe we can get them to take us to Micky D's"

"Chris?"

"I think McDonalds is a great idea," Larabee agreed and smiled as the young boy's eyes lit up.

Vin placed Billy on the floor and watched as the boy reached out and took Larabee's hand. The blond's face lit up as he looked down at Billy Travis and Vin was once again reminded of just how good a father Chris Larabee had been. He knew no one would ever take Adam Larabee's place in his father's heart, but this boy was making a lasting impression on the blond. He walked beside Mary as Chris and Billy hurried ahead of them.

Reno, Nevada, 20022

Maguire sat at the computer as he'd done for the last four hours. He was well versed in computer technology; something he knew would be a plus in his business. He had file after file on people in high positions in government and business industries. People he'd blackmailed into helping him. Usually he perused these files on a daily basis, in search of someone he could inflict fear and terror on, but today that was not the case. Today he searched through genealogical reports, hoping to find what he needed. So far he'd found four answers to his search for Chris Larabee. The first three proved to be dead ends. Two were deceased and the third was only four years old. It wouldn't bother him to kill a child, but this was not what he was looking for. He typed in the final name, Christopher Adam Larabee and gasped as a picture appeared on the screen.

He studied the picture, taking note of the blond hair, the lean body, the dark clothing that clung tightly to the taut frame. His gaze was caught and held by the dancing green eyes, so filled with joy as he held an attractive woman on one arm and a small boy in the other. He touched the page down button and read the article that accompanied the next photo.

Tragedy struck today as Sarah and Adam Larabee, wife and son to Chris Larabee died in a fire at their home. It is unknown at the moment whether the fire was intentionally set or the result of faulty wiring.

He stopped reading as a smile formed no his face. qqq'Fire, such a fitting way to die. Are you the one?'xxx he asked as he scrolled down the page once more. There were photos of Larabee with six other men as they accepted an award from the city's Mayor. Another showed Larabee shaking hands with the president. Photo after photo showed how much the man fought for justice. 'qqqYou have to be the one,'xxx he thought as he went back to the genealogical page.

He typed in Christopher Adam Larabee and waited for the computer to compile the necessary information. He knew the four names he'd entered were unrelated and that each one had been researched at some time in the past. The information was now deep in the files of the genealogical society, but he knew how to seek it out. Now he just had to wait. He walked back to the table and picked up the bottle of Sherry. He refilled his glass and walked back to the computer table. Names, dates and places flashed by as the computer accessed the information and displayed it on the screen.

He sipped at the Sherry and sat forward as the screen stopped and the history of his destiny was revealed. He smiled as he pressed the button that would print out the facts he needed. The Chris Larabee living in Billings, Montana was a direct descendant of Christopher Larabee; well known peacekeeper form Four Corners. He picked up the first paper, a picture of the man who would help him succeed where his great, great grandfather failed.

He held the picture in front of him and reached for the gold cigarette lighter on the table beside him. "Feel the fire, Chris Larabee, for we will soon burn together," he said as he set fire to the corner of the page. He watched as the flames slowly enveloped the face of his newly discovered victim and he smiled contentedly.

Part 2

Billings, Montana, 2002

Chris shuddered as he pulled the truck to a stop. He swiped at his forehead and was surprised when he found dry skin. He reached for the air conditioning, but found it was already at the highest level.

"Something wrong, Chris?" Tanner asked.

Larabee frowned and finally shook his head. "No, not really. Just thought it got hot in here all of a sudden!"

"See, told ya you're gettin' old!"

"Tanner!"

"Hell, Larabee you're sufferin' from hot flashes."

Larabee couldn't help but laugh at his friend's teasing voice. "You know, Vin, I could make you walk from here?" he said as he continued the drive towards Tanner's ranch.

"Ya could, but ya won't. You'd probably lose your way seein' as how you're gettin' old and all!"

"Tanner, I can still ask Buck to go with me next week."

"Nah, ya wouldn't do that to me, Cowboy."

"I wouldn't?"

"Nope, me and you are gonna be like them folks at Mystery Inc."

"What?"

"Yeah. I figure we'll be huntin' ghosts just like Fred, Shaggy, Daphne, Velma and Scooby."

"Vin, we're not going ghost hunting." Larabee said as he pulled into the sharpshooter's yard.

The tracker smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Maybe you're not, but I will," he laughed.

"You're too much, Vin. I'll come by to pick you up in the morning," the blond offered, knowing his friend left his jeep in The Firm's parking garage after the movie.

"Alright, Cowboy and thanks for the movie and dinner."

Larabee drove away and frowned as he remembered the sudden feeling of heat rising in his body. qqq'Hope the hell I'm not coming down with a summer cold,' xxxhe thought as he pulled into his own yard.

Reno, Nevada, 20022

Mark Winston watched as his employer printed article after article on Christopher Adam Larabee. Two days had passed since their return to Reno with the treasure his employer sought. Since that time he'd flown back to Santa Fe and discovered a few important things. He knew Robert Maguire had found things in The Book and that he was formulating plans to continue something that started many years ago. Winton shuddered at the thought of what his friend was capable of. He'd seen him kill for the sake of killing and not show any remorse for what he'd done. Maguire's victims were normally people he found on the streets. Homeless men or women and once in a while runaways who would do anything for a little food or a place to sleep. The man he was planning on taking as his next victim was high profiled and Winston knew it could be both of their downfalls. This didn't scare him, he knew he would follow Maguire to the ends of the earth if need be. This was a man who knew what he wanted and took it. Robert Maguire wanted to complete a destiny that was formed when his great, great grandfather entered a dusty town called Four Corners. He briefly wondered if the long dead Maguire was anything like the man seated before him. If he was then the Chris Larabee of old had suffered immensely before Robert Maguire's death.

"Did you find out anything, Mark?"

"I found a couple of things," Winston answered as he placed the papers in front of his employer. "Four Corners was nearly destroyed by a twister in 1906. The town was abandoned soon afterwards."

"Is it still there?" Maguire asked, anticipating a visit to the town where his ancestor had the ill-fated meeting with the gunslinger turned lawman. There was so much more in The Book than he originally thought. Finding the formula for an old drug made from the nightshade plant was an added bonus and something he planned to improve on.

"Some of the structures are still standing, but they are in bad shape. I didn't get to see much from the air, but most have fallen on hard times."

"A ghost town. The place where this all started. I wish to see it for myself. Make arrangements for us to leave in two days. I have a couple of meetings I need to attend tomorrow. Everything else can be put on hold indefinitely."

"Yes, Sir."

"Make sure you contact the old woman. I want everything ready when I decide to bring Larabee to her home."

"Are you sure we can trust her? She wasn't to cooperative with the last one."

"Don't give her any details. Just make sure she has everything ready and we'll take care of her when we get there. I think," He picked up the picture of Chris Larabee standing beside a black Ford crew cab. "This will be the final time I use her home anyway. I have a feeling once this man dies by my hands I will have little use for the old woman or her home. In fact we will need to get rid of all the evidence she has there."

"How long do you plan on keeping him alive?"

Maguire smiled as he answered, "as long as it takes!" He ran his fingers down the front of the picture, feeling the strength he knew was in this man. "See to it that everything is in place."

"Yes, Sir," Winston said and left the room.

Robert Maguire lifted up the article on the death of Larabee's wife and son. He held the picture in one hand and the article in the other. He looked from one to the other, his eyes wide with excitement and anticipation. qqq'This is it, Chris! This is what I've wanted and dreamed of, but never actually understood. This is our destiny. Yours and mine! Not our great, great grandfathers. This time you will be the one to die and I will be free of the need to kill!'xxx he thought. qqq'Soon, Chris, very soon!'xxx

Albuquerque, New Mexico 2002

The nine days passed slowly for both Chris and Vin as they waited for the adventure to begin. Josiah was on top of things at the office. Buck and JD were due back by Monday morning. Nathan and Ezra were staying over in California for a few days to make sure their testimony did its job. The two, would be ghost hunters were relaxed when Josiah dropped them at the airport. He wished them luck and felt a slight shudder run down his spine as they boarded the airplane. He shook it off, knowing the two men had their cell phones in case anything came up.

The flight from Billings to Albuquerque, New Mexico was relaxing and the two men enjoyed talking about the plans for the trip. The only thing Chris didn't reveal to Vin was how they were going to check out the towns of Eagle Bend and Four Corners. Vin knew they would be driving from Albuquerque to Santa Fe, but from there he had no idea what his friend planned. The seatbelt light winked on and he watched Larabee secure the lap belt. He did the same and returned the table to an upright position.

The plane landed smoothly and the two friends grabbed their carry on luggage from under the seat in front of them. They waited for the line of people to ease up before stepping into the narrow aisle.

+ + + + + + +

Robert Maguire paced back and forth as he waited for his luggage to arrive. His face lacked emotion, but the anger seethed inside the calm exterior. His plans had gone up in smoke when the meetings he attended went badly. He knew it was his hotel and casino, but he still needed a few investors to keep ready cash on hand. The meetings continued to be postponed because one of the biggest investors, a multi millionaire named Reginald Cromwell the third, was in the hospital suffering from a heart attack. Maguire smiled as he thought of Winston taking care of things for him. Mark understood him and knew he could only kill if and when the need struck him. It was easy for him to convince Winston of the need to dispatch Cromwell and now the old man's body was being invaded by the mortician's tools.

He watched Winston wait for the arrival of their luggage. He hated the waiting, but again the events of the last week had conspired against him. His plane was damaged during a break in at the private airstrip and he'd been forced to make other arrangements. He didn't want to wait to see Four Corners. He needed to reach the town and see what lay ahead of him before he made the move to pick up Chris Larabee.

He watched as a new load of passengers arrived from the newest flight. He grew bored quickly and looked for a place to order a drink. He walked towards the small vending machines, swearing at having to stoop so low in his life.

Chris stepped off the escalator and was shocked as his shoulder was struck and nearly sent him flying. "Dammit!" he swore as his carry on bag flew from his arm.

"Hell, Chris, what did that waitress put in your drink?"

"Shut up, Vin," Larabee grinned as he turned to the man lying on the floor. Chris' eyes narrowed as he saw the spark of excitement in the man's cold eyes. He shook off the feeling of emptiness and reached out to him. "Are you alright, Mister?"

"Y...yes, I'm fine," Maguire assured him, his eyes slowly raking over Larabee's lean body. He reached up and accepted the hand, feeling the strength in the firm grip. "Thank you. I'm sorry about that," he said pointing at the spilled luggage. "I should've been watching where I was going."

Larabee released the hand and nodded. "Yeah, but no harm done."

qqq'Not yet,'xxx Maguire thought, keeping the excitement in check. "Can I buy you a drink? I mean I know there's nothing much here, but soda..."

"No, thanks, mister. We're in a hurry," Larabee said as Tanner handed him his bag.

"Oh, okay, I'm sorry." He watched the two men walk away, a chilling smile spreading over his face. There was no warmth in his eyes as he struggled to get his emotions back under control. Again he was caught up in a sense of destiny. Somehow things were happening around them and he knew Chris Larabee would soon be in his hands. He forgot the drink and hurried back to the luggage carousel. His eyes were riveted on the blond head moving out into the airport.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Maguire didn't answer until Larabee and his friend disappeared. "I'm fine, Mark."

Winston saw the change in his employer and wondered what was the cause of it. "Did something happen, Sir?"

"You could say that, Mark. Guess who I just ran into?" He laughed at his own pun.

"Who?"

"Larabee."

"What?" Winston looked around frantically. "Where?"

"He just left. He was with that long haired friend of his Vin Tanner."

"Do you want me to find out where they're going?"

Maguire smiled at his employee and walked towards the exit. "Do you believe in Destiny, Mark?"

"I'm not sure, Mr. Maguire."

"Mark, we've been together a lot of years now and I want you to call me Robert. We've come far enough that you are more friend than employee."

"Yes, Sir, ah Robert."

"I think destiny as just reared its ugly head."

"How so?" Winston asked as he carried the three medium sized bags out the door to the waiting limo.

"Destiny caused Reginald Cromwell," he raised the pinky finger on his right hand and smiled. "The third to have a heart attack and delayed my initial trip to Four Corners. If Cromwell hadn't died we would've arrived here last week in my private plane. I would've missed the fact that Christopher Larabee is here. Santa Fe has just handed me what I need and now it's simply a matter of bringing him home."

"How do you plan on doing that, Sir, ah, Robert?" he asked as the limo driver opened the door for them. They climbed in out of the heat, knowing the driver would take care of their luggage. He'd already been informed of the hotel they would be staying at.

Maguire reached for the bottle of Sherry in the open bar and poured two drinks. He handed one to Winston and smiled. "I don't have to plan anything, Mark. Destiny seems to be taking care of everything for me. Christopher Larabee will be in Four Corners at some point in time and that's where we will take him."

"How can you be sure?"

"Mark," he pushed the button that would ensure absolute privacy and smiled at his friend. "Haven't you noticed anything since I retrieved The Book? I mean so many things just seem to be falling into place. Finding The Book, searching the web and finding a direct descendant of Christopher Larabee from Four Corners. Cromwell causing my delay in coming here. Christopher Larabee arriving within minutes of my flight," he whispered in awe. "He will be in Four Corners and we will be waiting for him!"

"What about his friend?"

"Vin Tanner?"

"Yeah."

"We kill him before we take Larabee."

"I'll need a high powered rifle."

"That's easily arranged, Mark. You'll have what you need," he said. qqq'So will I',xxx he thought as they drove out of the airport.

Santa Fe, New Mexico, 2002

Vin drove the Jeep over the deepest ruts he could find. He fought back his own laughter as he heard Chris hiss under his breath as he was bounced around in the dust and dirt. They were taking a back trail from Albuquerque to Santa Fe and he was enjoying every minute of it.

"Chris, why aren't we keeping the jeep? It's great on gas and we'd be able to drive anywhere we want to go. Hell we could even drive into the surrounding hills and canyons."

"No."

"Come on, Cowboy, live a little," he laughed as Larabee choked on a mouthful of dust. "Imagine driving into those ghost towns in this rig."

"No."

"Is that all you're gonna say?"

"Yes!"

"Chris, ya know I love jeeps."

"No," Larabee laughed as he thought of Tanner's pride and joy at his ranch back home.

"I take it that means your mind's made up."

"Yes."

"So how are we getting there?"

"We're going in style. You might say we're going four by four."

"Four by Four? A Jeep Cherokee? A Dodge Ram?"

"Wait and see, Tanner, you won't be disappointed."

"Chris," the tracker said in exasperation.

"Vin, you're supposed to turn here."

"I know that," Tanner said as he turned onto the road leading into Santa Fe. "Where do we go from here?"

"We're staying at a Bed and Breakfast place."

"We are? Damn, Chris, ya must've been reading my mind. Those places serve the best breakfasts around. What's the name of the one we're staying at?"

"Four Kachinas Bed and Breakfast Inn. Turn onto Webber Street. It should be the next street." Larabee watched as the light turned green and Tanner turned onto Webber Street. "We're looking for 512. There it is!" he said as they spotted the well-manicured gardens and New Mexico Territorial building.

"Nice place."

"It came highly recommended."

"Oh? By who?" Tanner asked as he pulled into a parking spot.

"Jake."

"Then it must be a hell of a fine place."

"That's what I figured." Larabee opened the door and climbed out of the jeep. They walked up to the building and in through the main doors. Chris smiled as the cool air hit him. "Air conditioning was a priority."

"Wait till it gets hot, Cowboy," Tanner explained.

A woman stood behind a small desk as they entered. Her brown hair was streaked with gray and pulled back in a tight bun. Her dress was a simple garment seen on any rack at any K-mart store all over the US. Her eyes danced as she looked over the two newcomers. Her smile was one of welcome and the two men felt at ease as they stopped before her.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?"

"Yes, ma'am, we have reservations. Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner."

She opened her logbook and nodded her head. "Ah yes, we've been expecting you. Your rooms are on the ground floor. My name is Cassandra and my husband, Rafael and I own this place. If you'll follow me I'll show you to your rooms."

"Thank ya, Ma'am," Tanner said as they followed the woman through the building.

They stopped before a door and watched as the woman slid the key inside and opened it.

"This is yours, Mr. Larabee. Mr. Tanner yours is right next door. These two rooms have private patios, this one has a queen sized bed and yours, Mr. Tanner has a king size bed. There's cable TV and direct line telephones should you need them, you have your own bathrooms. If you need more towels just let me know. Breakfast is served promptly at seven and ends precisely at eight."

"Don't let her fool ya, Gentlemen," Larabee and Tanner looked towards the door to see a man in his mid fifties, well muscled and dark tanned standing there. "My wife has never turned away a hungry patron yet and I don't expect she'll start now.

"Rafael, you know me too well," she laughed.

"Well, My Dear, it comes with being married for thirty two years."

"Wow, thirty two years," Tanner exclaimed. "I don't think I've ever known anyone married that long. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Mr. Tanner. Come along and I'll show you your room. It's right next door."

"Vin, I'm gonna grab our bags."

"Ya sure ya don't need me ta help ya?"

"Vin!" Larabee warned as he left the room. He walked out to the jeep and picked up the luggage. He brought the bags inside and dropped Tanner's in his room. The owners were no longer there and the two men were alone.

"Hey, Cowboy, ya ready to get somethin' ta eat? My treat?"

"Give me long enough to take a shower and you're on. I think it's time to seek out a big juicy steak," Larabee answered.

"What, no ribs?"

"Not this time, Tanner." Larabee smiled as he looked at the younger man. "By the way, Vin, it wouldn't hurt you to take a shower either. You're kinda ripe."

"Ain't no riper than you, Larabee," Tanner said as his friend closed the door.

Chris walked into his room and closed the door behind him. He sat on the edge of the bed and opened his overnight bag. He smiled as he pulled out the pamphlet from Tiny's Livery. He knew it wasn't a livery, but the man he'd talked to knew a lot about blacksmithing. Chris talked with him many times over the phone and assured the man he was well versed in handling horses. Tiny agreed to rent Chris a pair of geldings named Thunder and Lightning. The Firm's leader thought this was funny and agreed on the deal. Saddles and everything they needed to outfit themselves for the weeklong outing was also discussed and the price agreed upon by both men. Chris ran his hands over the picture on the pamphlet. "yyySee New Mexico as it was meant to be seen. Guided tours for greenhorns or ramrods alike." zzz

The blond sighed and placed the Pamphlet back in his overnight bag. He left it on the bed and took a shower. It wasn't long before he was dressed in his favorite attire, black jeans, Charcoal gray T-shirt and black Nike runners. He walked out of his room, locked the door, and wasn't surprised to find the sharpshooter talking to the owners of the B and B.

"Hey, Chris, ya still in the mood for a mean steak?"

"Are you still buying?"

"I said it was on me, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but your idea of steak tends to run towards the steak sandwich at Buck's place. I want a real steak."

"We were just telling Vin the best steak in New Mexico...heck, probably the best steak in the USA can be had at the Cowgirl BBQ and Western Grill. It's done in mesquite and cooked to perfection. Comes with onion rings, baked potatoes or steakhouse fries and just about anything else ya desire."

"Rafael, you forgot the Corn on the cob slathered in fresh butter."

"Oh, Cassandra, you're right. Can't forget that."

"That sounds perfect," Larabee's mouth watered at the thought of a steak dinner. "Where is this place?"

"319 South Guadalupe. Now you boys have a good dinner," Rafael told them.

"We will. Thanks."

"Ya got yer teeth in, Chris?" Tanner asked as they walked out of the bed and breakfast.

"Ya know, Tanner, I really oughta leave you out in the middle of nowhere and see if you can find your way back."

"But you won't."

"Why?" Larabee asked as he slid into the jeep.

"Because then you'd have to pay for your own damn steak."

"At least I could eat it in piece and not watch you scoffing down the food like you were the world's largest human garbage disposal."

Tanner laughed as he slid the key into the ignition. "Hey, Chris, I'm a growing boy."

"Boy, my ass. You're thirty four, Vin, but ya know something?"

"What?"

"I wouldn't trade the last few years for all the tea in China."

"Me either, Cowboy," Tanner said and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"I just don't get that saying. How much tea does that country have? I mean I thought it was England who had the market cornered on tea."

"It's a saying, Vin. Like when you say flies on honey. "

"Yeah, but that makes sense, Chris. If the saying was supposed to mean something why don't they say all the tea in England and we could all stick up our pinkys when we say it."

"Vin?"

"What?"

"Just drive."

"Okay." He smiled at his friend, happy to see the other man relaxing and enjoying himself.

+ + + + + + +

Chris plumped the pillows behind his head and flicked through the channels on the TV. He wasn't interested in what he was seeing, but was unable to sleep. His mind was filled with images of what the next day would bring. He arranged with the Hertz rental car agency to have the jeep picked up at Tiny's Livery. While Vin was busy talking to one of the waitress's at Cowgirls he'd secretly called Tiny to confirm the horses and tack would be ready for them when they arrived. With the hour closing in on two am he turned off the TV and tried to sleep. When he finally succumbed to his body's need for rest at a little after two it wasn't a restful one. He dreamed of the man who ran into him at the airport and his body trembled even in sleep.

Chris awoke to a loud knocking on the door. For a few minutes his sleep-dampened mind couldn't comprehend the unfamiliar surroundings. The knocking continued and a soft Texan drawl cut through the drowsy feeling. He shoved back the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey, Chris, you gonna sleep all day?"

"Hang on, Tanner," Larabee smiled as he stood up and pulled on his jeans.

"Ain't got time, Chris. Times wastin' and I ain't had breakfast yet," the sharpshooter growled as the door opened. "Shit, Chris, ya look like somethin' the cat dragged in. Didn't ya get any sleep?"

"What time is it?"

"Seven thirty. Ya'd best get a move on or ya'll miss breakfast. I can smell those flapjacks already."

"You go ahead, Vin. I need to get a shower before I do anything else. He shivered and frowned as glimpses of his nightmares flashed across his mind. The man from the airport was a star player in those and he wondered why this man could have such an impact on him.

"Nah, I'll wait for ya."

Larabee smiled tiredly at the longing in the other man's voice. "Vin, I'm not gonna be responsible for the noises your gut will make if you don't feed it."

"What noises?" Tanner asked indignantly.

"Ah, Tanner, let's just say when you're hungry everyone in Billings knows it. Now go eat, just save me some of those flapjacks."

"I don't know if I'll be able too. It's gonna take a lot to stop this hungry bear from growling. I mean we wouldn't want to wake up all of Santa Fe," Tanner laughed as he headed for the door. "Don't be long, Cowboy, or you'll just have to eat crumbs."

"Go, Tanner and enjoy."

Half an hour later Chris Larabee joined his friend at the pine breakfast nook. He reached for the coffee pot and filled his cup. He took a sip of the strong black brew and smiled appreciatively at the owners.

"Did you sleep well, Mr. Larabee," Cassandra asked.

"Very well, Ma'am, thank you," the blond lied.

"Chris you just gotta try these flapjacks. Ain't had nothin' like 'em since we helped Nettie with the repairs to her house."

"Help yourself, Mr. Larabee. There's Canadian bacon and honey glazed ham as well," Rafael told him.

"Thanks," Larabee said as he helped himself to the breakfast. He watched as his friend loaded his plate again and smiled at his hearty appetite. It amazed him how the tracker could eat just about anything and not seem to gain an ounce. He looked at his own plate and dug in. He smiled appreciatively at the owners as he savored the cinnamon flavoured flapjacks.

"Well?" Tanner asked.

"Yep, I have to say they are excellent."

"Thank you, Mr. Larabee. So what are your plans while you're in Santa Fe?"

"We're going ghost hunting." Tanner smiled as Larabee choked on his flapjack.

"We're not going ghost hunting, Vin. We're gonna visit some of the ghost towns north of here."

"Ah," Rafael smiled at the two men. "Just be careful out there. Some of those towns are nothing but accidents waiting to happen."

"This from the man who goes out to Eagle Bend every other week," Cassandra informed them of her husband's love of the ghost towns.

Rafael grinned at his wife and kissed her cheek. "I can't help it, Cass, you know how much I love the Old West."

"I certainly do. So which towns do you two plan on visiting?"

"Eagle Bend and Four Corners," the tracker answered.

"There's some pretty rugged terrain out that way. It's a good thing you've got that jeep. It'll make travel easier," Rafael told them.

"See, Chris, we need to keep the jeep."

"Sorry, Vin, I've already arranged transportation."

"Ah hell, Oh sorry, Ma'am," Tanner apologized. "Come on, Chris. The jeep makes good sense."

Larabee smiled as he finished his coffee. "No," he answered simply.

"There's that word again. I really gotta teach you a better vocabulary."

Chris just continued to smile at his friend as he finished his breakfast. He knew Vin was going to enjoy what he had in mind for them, but he wasn't going to let him in on the plan just yet. The two men finished eating and checked out of the bed and breakfast. They were due to return in one week and were assured their rooms would be ready for them. They carried their luggage out to the jeep and threw it in the back. Chris frowned as he saw a box on the passenger seat. He looked at his friend and saw the smile on his face.

"What's this?"

"Ya got eyes, don't ya? Open it up and see."

Larabee opened the box and smiled appreciatively at the contents. "When did you have time to get this?"

"Ya ain't the only one who couldn't sleep last night. There's a place over on Galisteo called Overland. They got all kinds of things. Ya gonna just gawk at it or are ya gonna try it on?"

Chris lifted the black leather swagman hat from the box and settled it on his heads. He smiled appreciatively at the feel of the smooth leather on his head.

"Now you're a real cowboy, Cowboy," Tanner laughed as Larabee ran his fingers over the flat brim and grinned cockily.

"Thanks, Pard," Larabee threw the empty box into the back and watched as his friend reached behind his seat.

"Got one for me too," Tanner pulled a second box from the back and opened it. "This baby is called The Traveler, figured since that's what we're doing it's perfect." He placed the chocolate brown hat on his head and smiled. "Where to, Pard?" he asked.

"We need to get on St. Francis Drive and go north till we're out of Santa Fe. There's a small ranch just north of here."

"A ranch?"

"Yeah. We need to stop there."

"Why?"

Larabee grinned at his friend. "You'll see, Cowboy."

"Chris!"

"The faster we get going the faster you find out what I have in mind, Vin."

"Shit, ya know I ain't got no patience, Chris."

"You're gonna have to get some. I'm not telling you anything else."

"Shit!" the tracker hissed as he drove away from the bed and breakfast.

+ + + + + + +

They drove north until they reached the outskirts of Santa Fe. Chris kept watching both sides of the street for signs of the livery. The day was heating up fast and he was anxious to get underway. He knew his friend shared his love of horses and would enjoy the freedom this would give them. He spotted the sign and smiled as he told Tanner to slow down and turn into the driveway.

"Tiny's Livery and guided tours?" Tanner read. "I thought we weren't doing the usual tour?"

"We're not." Larabee answered as the jeep came to a stop before an Adobe house. Native American tapestries were in abundance and a dozen horses stood inside a large corral.

"Then what are we doing here?"

"We need to pick up our Four by Four?"

"Here?" the tracker asked incredulously.

"Yep," Larabee said as he climbed out of the jeep. He smiled at the large man walking towards him. "Tiny?" he asked.

"You must be Chris Larabee," the man said, his voice soft and lilting in spite of his size.

"That's right," the blond reached out and took the beefy hand in his own. He pointed to his friend as he joined them. "That's Vin Tanner."

"Nice to meet you, Tiny."

"You too, Tanner."

"Is everything ready?" Larabee asked.

"Ya sure yer gonna be able ta handle it?"

"Did you get the documents I sent you?" Larabee asked.

"Sure did and I am impressed. You know your horseflesh."

"Horseflesh? Chris, what's going on? I thought we were going with a Four by Four?"

"We are. Thunder and Lightning are known around here as Four by Four," the blond answered.

"Thunder and Lightning?"

"Two of my best geldings."

"Geldings?"

"Horses, Vin."

"I know what geldings are, Larabee," Tanner's exasperated voice muttered impatiently. "Just wondering what you're up to."

"Vin, I thought you said I was the one getting old."

"Ya are, but what's that got to do with this?"

"Well, it seems to me you're the one suffering from memory loss. We're touring Ghost towns."

"Shit, Chris, ya know ya really can get on a man's nerves. Why are we here?"

"We're going to explore those ghost towns the way they were meant to be explored. We're going to..."

"Become real cowboys," Tanner laughed as he touched his new hat. "It's a good thing I bought these. Wouldn't want ya to go gettin' sunburned what with that delicate skin of yours."

"Ya, well, your delicate butt had better be up for the job."

"You two finished?" Tiny asked with a grin.

"Yeah," Larabee answered.

"Good, cause I got things ready fer ya and I got other things ta do. Ain't like I get ta go with ya." He looked at the two men hopefully. "Unless ya changed yer mind about the guided tour."

"Sorry, Tiny, this is something we'd like to do. Guided tours just don't cut it. We know where we're going," the blond told him.

"Shit, guess I gotta finish painting the damn house after all."

Larabee and Tanner looked at the large man sympathetically.

"I don't envy you that job," Tanner told him. "Especially in this heat."

"Yeah, but the missus says it's gotta be done. There she comes now."

Larabee and Tanner were surprised to see a petite figure walking towards them. Where Tiny was over six foot and probably weighed in at over two hundred and fifty pounds his 'missus' was barely five foot and probably weighed less than a hundred pounds. Her red hair hung below her shoulders and framed her face. She wasn't beautiful by any standards, but she was pretty and her smile lit up her face.

"Honey, these are the gentlemen I was telling you about." He pointed to the blond as he wrapped his arm around her. "That's Chris Larabee." He pointed to the second man. "That's Vin Tanner. My wife Eugenia Martin."

"Nice to meet you," she said as she shook each man's hand.

"Ma'am," Chris and Vin tipped their hats to the woman and smiled at the couple.

"Would you believe she doesn't like my nickname for her," Tiny explained as they walked towards the stables.

"Tiny!"

"Come on, Darlin', just think of the irony. I mean Pop started callin' me Tiny as a joke."

"Tiny!"

"Why don't we ask these guys what they think? What do you guys say? I mean I'm Tiny shouldn't her name be shortened from Eugenia to Huge?"

The two Firm employees couldn't help but laugh and they tried to hide it by coughing into their hands.

"Tiny, quit that. I do not want to be called Huge and you're embarrassing these gentlemen."

"See what I gotta put up with. You boys married?"

"No," Tanner answered.

"Not any more," Larabee answered without thinking and turned away from the others. They gave him a couple of minutes as he composed himself. He turned back to the three people and smiled. He knew Vin saw the moisture in his eyes, but the younger man didn't say anything.

The four proceeded to the stable and walked into the slightly cooler interior. They stopped before two stalls housing two dark brown horses.

"You gentlemen are gettin' two of the best damn horses in New Mexico. Thunder and Lightning are sometimes skittish, but they are reliable," Eugenia told them.

"Beautiful animals, " Larabee said as he ran his hands through the dark mane.

"That's Lightning. He's a four year old. Thunder is five, both are easy to handle if you know what you're doing," Tiny explained.

"We do," Larabee assured him.

"Yeah, I read what ya sent me. Alright, why don't we get these two ready so's ya can get on your way," Tiny smiled as he pointed to the well worn saddles hung over the side of the empty stall next to Lightning.

The Martins stood and watched as the two men expertly saddled the horses and made sure the cinches were tightened. They talked softly to the horse they'd be riding and ruffled the manes as they did. Each man checked the saddlebags and canteens to make sure they had what they needed before turning back to the owners.

"Not bad," Tiny grinned and felt his wife relax beside him. He knew Larabee hadn't exaggerated when he said they knew good horseflesh and how to work with them.

"You boys do know yer way around horses," the woman said, her voice filled with open admiration.

"Thanks," Chris said as he took the items from his carry on and placed them in his saddlebags. He knew Vin was doing the same in the next stall. He took the reins and led the animal out of the oversized stall and smiled as Tanner joined him. They walked out of the stable and into the hot afternoon sun.

"So we'll expect you boys back a week from tomorrow. I'll drop the jeep at the Hertz car rental for you," Tiny assured him.

"Thanks, Tiny, Ma'am," Larabee said as he tipped his hat to the two people.

"You're welcome. Oh, here, take this," Eugenia said as she passed a rolled paper to Vin. "It's a map showing the ghost towns in the area."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Tanner said and also tipped his hat.

"You boys have fun and enjoy yourselves," Tiny called as the two men rode away.

"Do you think they'll be okay, Tiny?"

"They seemed ta have good horse sense ta me. Why? Ya gettin' one of them feelin's of yours?"

"Yeah, I don't think those two are gonna have an easy time of it."

"Maybe we should've warned 'em?"

"It wouldn't have done any good. They wouldn't have believed me." She felt her husband's strong arms reach out and wrap around her. Again a shiver ran through her as she watched the departing men. qqq'Go with God,'xxx she thought as they rode out of sight.

Part 3

Four Corners 2002

Robert Maguire strode down the middle of what was once Four Corner's main street. Most of the buildings were leveled to the ground by age and the elements. He knew the building at the end of the street was the town livery, but wasn't sure what the stairs were for as the upper floor seemed to be missing. A building that was at one point a saloon was in rather good repair considering its age. The town jail was missing a full wall and part of another and he smiled as he walked through it, comparing it to the modern prisons he'd visited. He watched as Winston walked towards him. They were careful not to disturb things as he wanted Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner to think the town had not been visited in many years. For now they were camping at an abandoned shack that had also fallen on bad times.

"Are you ready to go, Robert," Winston asked.

"I believe so, Mark."

"I parked about a mile north of here. Are you okay to walk that distance in this heat?"

"I could do that in my sleep, My Friend," he assured the other man as he looked up and down the main street once more. He could picture the town, as it must've been in the years gone by. He looked at the old saloon and tried to imagine what his great, great grandfather had felt when he first laid eyes on Chris Larabee.

"Are you sure you're okay, Robert?"

Maguire smiled at the concerned tone. "I'm fine, Mark. Can you feel this town?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can feel some things here. This is where I fulfill my great, great grandfather's destiny. We'll take Christopher Larabee from here and we'll bring him to the old woman's place where I will teach him what destiny is all about."

"You're sure they're coming here?"

Maguire smiled and walked towards the end of the town. "I know he is. I can feel this place getting ready for it," he said. "We just have to watch for them and be ready to kill Tanner and take Larabee. You did bring everything we need?"

"Yes, Sir. It's all out at that shack we're staying at."

"Perfect. He'll be here within the next few days." Maguire stood at the edge of town and again felt the thrill of anticipation. "Soon, Christopher, very soon," he muttered as a tumbleweed blew silently down the street.

On the trail 2002

Chris and Vin rode north, away from Santa Fe and the friendly people of the city. Dust billowed up from the horse's hooves as they continued towards the town of Eagle Bend.

Chris smiled as he pushed Lightning to an easy canter and Vin stayed beside him. The feel of the strong animal he rode gave him added satisfaction, but didn't compare to the look on the sharpshooter's face. Tanner's face was completely at ease as if nothing could put a damper on this trip. Chris reached for his canteen and took a drink. The liquid was warm, but it eased his thirst. He smiled as Tanner mimicked his action and drank from his own canteen. There were plenty of places to get water and the map they held showed them where they could find it. He slowed Lightning again, not wanting the animal to be overheated as the day wore on.

His mind drifted to the two towns they planned to visit. He remembered his grandfather talking about Eagle Bend in relationship to the peacekeepers from Four Corners and wondered if his great, great, grandfather was blessed with friends of the calibre he was. He sighed as he thought of how hard life must've been back then, yet he knew there had to be good times there as well.

"What are you thinking about, Larabee?"

Chris turned to his companion and smiled at the frown on the other man's face. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that shit! Hell, I can smell the smoke from your brain working so hard to put two words together."

"Least I have a brain," Larabee grinned.

"What the hell's that supposed ta mean? Ya sayin' I don't have one?"

"If the shoe fits..."

"Nothing wrong with the way my shoes fit, except that they're boots."

Larabee laughed, he just couldn't hold it in anymore. The look on Tanner's face told him everything he needed to know. The half smile on his face, the twinkling light in his eyes told him the sharpshooter knew exactly what he was saying. Tanner was a lot smarter than most people realized, but he kept it hidden. At first Chris didn't understand why, but as they'd grown to know each other he realized it all stemmed from his early childhood. He knew about Vin's abusive father and how it was better not to be seen or heard. Vin had found it easier to just be a 'yes, sir-no, sir' child in order to save himself some of the beatings by his old man. Chris wished he'd been around back then, he always felt as if the tracker needed someone to watch his back.

"Larabee, ya keep thinkin' that hard and yer head's gonna explode!"

"Very funny, Tanner." He looked towards the disappearing sun and turned to his companion. "It's getting late."

"Still got another hour of daylight."

"By the time we make camp it'll be dark. Let's get some rest and get an early start in the morning."

"Alright, that looks like as good a spot as any," Tanner said pointing to a formation of rocks near a small creek.

The two men headed towards it and ground tied the horses. They took the bedrolls and saddlebags off and unsaddled the two animals. Neither man spoke as they set about looking after the animals and setting up camp. While Chris gave Thunder and Lightning some water and feed, Tanner made a small circle of stones and got a fire going.

By the time Chris was finished Vin had coffee brewing and their meager meal laid out. It would consist of Jerky, beans and biscuits supplied by the Martins. Their saddlebags also held dried fruit and vegetables, a few caned meats and crackers. They would never be that far from civilization and it would be a simple matter of riding to one of the tour stops to pick up more food.

While Chris cleaned the dishes, Vin started a fresh pot of coffee. By the time the blond returned Tanner was sitting on a rock with two cups. He smiled as Larabee joined him. "Sorry, Cowboy, ain't got nothin' stronger."

Larabee smiled, reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a silver flask. Tanner recognized it as one JD Dunne had given him on his last birthday.

"I do," Chris grinned and poured a liberal amount into each cup.

"Thanks, Chris," Tanner sipped at the coffee/whiskey combination and sighed.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah, it is. Nothing like a night under the stars," Tanner agreed. qqq'Especially with someone who appreciates it as much as I do,xxx' he thought. He looked towards the small stream as he felt the dust and grit under his clothes. He placed the cup on the ground and stood up. Without a word to his friend he walked towards the stream.

"Where are you going?" Larabee asked curiously.

"I need to wash some of this grit off," Tanner answered, shucking out of his t-shirt as he walked.

"You're going swimming?"

"Sure am. Wouldn't hurt you to wash some of that trail dust off as well."

Larabee watched as the usually shy man stripped down to his underwear, but stopped there. He laughed as the tracker raced to the creek. The pale moon shone reflectively off the creek and Chris suddenly had the urge to join his friend. He heard the splash as the sharpshooter entered the water and swam into the center.

"You comin' in? The water's great."

Larabee brushed at the grit in his blond hair, feeling the dry stiff strands slide through his fingers. He smiled and stood up. "Yeah, be right there." He pulled the t-shirt over his head and dropped it beside the rock. He slipped off the Nike runner's and the black jeans, leaving him standing in black silk CK underwear. Larabee ran to the water's edge, feeling like a kid going to his favorite swimming hole again. He ran into the water and swam towards the center, relaxing as the water washed the day's dirt from his body.

He ducked under the water and swam until his body craved air. He pushed beyond the point where the craving turned to need and finally surfaced next to his friend. He sucked in the clean air and smiled at Tanner.

"Well?"

"You were right, the water's great," he laughed and shoved the sharpshooter under the water before swimming away from him. He dove under again, feeling a sense of freedom he hadn't felt since he was a young boy and his father took him camping in Algonquin Park in Canada. He felt Tanner grasp his ankle and pull him down further. He pulled free and the two men surfaced at the same time. Without a word they swam side-by-side, matching swim strokes in the stream as they headed back to shore. They stepped from the water and into the night air. It felt cool on their wet skin and they made their way towards camp.

Vin added wood to the fire and rummaged through his saddlebag for the change of clothes he carried. He smiled as Larabee did the same.

Chris pulled on the black Levis and T-shirt. He reached for a pair of socks and was pulling them on as his friend picked up the discarded clothing. "Where are you going, Vin?"

"I figure I'll rinse these so we got somethin' clean to wear tomorrow night."

Chris smiled as the other man walked towards the stream. People saw Vin Tanner as a scruffy Texan when in fact the man liked things clean and in its place. He wasn't a neat freak by any measure, but he wasn't a slob. Chris picked up the two empty cups and refilled them. He added a dollop of whiskey to both and placed them on the rock, before spreading out their bedrolls.

Chris stood back and watched as Tanner returned with the wet clothing and spread them over the nearby bushes. He passed the sharpshooter a cup and smiled at the tiredly muttered 'thanks'. The two men settled onto their bedrolls, using their saddles to prop up on. There was no need for words now as they settled down to enjoy the quiet company, each man lost in his thoughts of what the other one's friendship meant to them.

+ + + + + + +

Maguire sat outside the broken down shack. He knew they were far enough from the abandoned town of Four Corners and would not be seen by their query. The moon was three quarters through its journey when a cloud blotted it out, leaving total darkness for several seconds. He knew the stars were shining and there was light, but the blackness of his soul wouldn't let him see them. He remembered his Aunt's words when he was a boy. Words that damned him as being the devil's spawn and he smiled.

"If you only knew, Auntie," he said as the moon appeared once more. He picked up the bottle of Sherry and filled the crystal goblet once more. He knew he should rest and be prepared for his meeting with his victim, but his body was tense with anticipation and hunger. A hunger born of a desperate need to prove he was better than the man he was named after. The Robert Maguire of bygone years had failed, but the Robert Maguire of the here and now would succeed and possess the soul of Christopher Adam Larabee. The man would die at his hands, but unlike what The Book said he wouldn't need to hear Larabee scream. All he needed was to see death eat away at the man, body and soul. He downed the Sherry and took a deep breath as he walked towards the nylon tent. He climbed inside to wait for sleep and the wonderful dreams he knew would be waiting for him there.

Eagle Bend 2002

The two Firm employees stopped as they topped a small hill and looked down at the town of Eagle Bend. They could make out the outlines of dilapidated buildings against the backdrop of a cloudless blue sky.

A lone eagle flew high overhead, its call casting a warm feeling over Vin Tanner. He remembered stories told by his great grandfather on his mother's side. The man was a Shaman and Vin remembered standing before him and studying the wrinkled face. He knew this was where he had learned the ways of the Comanche tribes who'd wondered freely across the open ranges. He'd sat for hours listening to tales of bravery and the braves who'd fought for the rights of the Indian tribes. His grandfather looked him in the eyes and told him he would always soar like an eagle, high above the ground. His grandfather had placed a gnarled hand on his forehead and called him Little Eagle. It was a name he'd never told anyone, but one he was proud to own. Looking at the eagle high above he sighed and turned to the man beside him. He knew how much Larabee had been through in his life and a name came to him. qqq'Brave Eagle'xxx he thought as they rode towards the abandoned ghost town.

Chris glanced sideways and smiled at Tanner's profile. The hat suited him perfectly and gave him an Old West look. He reached up and touched the flat brim of the hat he wore and smiled.

"Yeah, ya really do look the part 'cept yer missin' the guns."

Larabee laughed as the softly spoken words reached his ears. He would always find the amazing connection they shared a thing to cherish, to hold onto, especially at times like this when they rode side by side. They'd done this quite often since Vin bought the ranch bordering his. Either he would ride Pony to Tanner's ranch and wait for him to mount Peso or the other way around. They'd ride for hours, fewer than ten words being spoken between them, yet plenty was being said with just a glance or a nod of the head.

"If I had a gun I'd have shot you long ago," Larabee quipped.

"Ya probably couldn't hit the broad side of a barn anyway, Cowboy," Tanner laughed at their ongoing joke as they stopped on the edge of town.

An eerie silence washed over the two men as they slowly rode threw the street. Dust and sagebrush and broken boards were in abundance and at times forced them to ride around them.

"I bet that was the jail," Tanner observed, pointing to what looked like an old mortar and stone building. The door was hanging by a thread, but the bars on the window were intact.

"That's real good tracking skills you have their, Tanner. I bet it took a lot of thinking and studying to come to that conclusion." Larabee laughed.

They pulled to a stop in front of the jail, dismounted and tied the horses to the hitching post. The two men stepped through the door of the jail and felt as if they'd stepped back in town. A broken desk stood in one corner, rotted and aged by time and the heat of the sun. A musty smell met their nostrils and they could see animal feces and bones on and around the desk. There were two cells, both doors were open, some of the bars were broken, but a few were intact. The remnants of a cot was in evidence in both cells and brought a sense of nostalgia to both men.

"Can you imagine what it must've been like to be locked up in here?" Tanner asked and slipped into the first cell.

"Yeah, it must've been hot sitting in here," Larabee agreed as he stepped into the second cell. "The place could use a little cleaning up."

"A little? I'd say it needs a few sticks of TNT and a shit load of repairs."

"Before or after the TNT?"

"Both."

The two men laughed as they exited the jail. The sun was high overhead as they walked down the middle of the main street. A two-story building that had seen better days stood on the opposite side of the debris-strewn road. They hurried across the street and through the open doorway.

"This had to be the saloon," Larabee smiled as he stepped up to the remnants of a long bar. He watched as Tanner moved in behind it and stood before a few pieces of a long broken mirror.

Vin faced his friend and scowled. "What'll it be, Stranger?"

"Whatcha got?" Larabee glared at the would be bartender.

"We got plenty of nothin'," Tanner deadpanned.

"Well give me a double and make sure it's in a clean fuckin' glass!"

"Does this look like the fuckin' Ritz! I done tol' ya we got plenty of nothin' Now ya either take it or ya go find someplace else ta wet yer whistle. Godamned no account gunslinger..." he looked at Larabee and they both lost it.

Laughter wafted up through the hole in the roof and settled over the town. A sound unheard in the years since the last resident died and was laid to rest in the cemetery.

Chris took his flask from his back pocket and handed it across the bar. He watched as Vin opened it and took a long pull on it before handing it back. He took a drink and replaced the cap and laid it on the bar. He looked around and realized they needed to be more careful about entering the buildings. Halfway across the saloon a large part of the floor was missing and opened onto an old cellar. He walked a little closer and gazed into it.

"Better not get too close, Chris," Tanner warned.

"I don't plan on," Larabee answered and eased back. He looked toward the spiral stairs leading to the second floor. Most of the stairs were missing as well as a good portion of the top floor. The remnants of an old chandelier hung from the upper ceiling, along with an abundance of cobwebs and dirt. Something in the corner of one of the stairs caught his eyes and he walked past the hole in the floor.

"Chris, those stairs won't hold ya!" Tanner called.

Larabee picked up the object and brushed off the layers of dirt. He turned to the tracker and smiled as he held up the treasure.

"What's that?" Tanner asked as he closed the distance between them.

"Looks like an old sheriff's badge."

"Wow," Tanner said as Larabee handed him the find. "I ain't seen one of these since I was a kid in Vernon."

"You guys had a sheriff?"

"No, my friend had one that belonged to his grandfather. We used to play in the back street when we were kids. He'd be the sheriff and I'd be the bad guy. It's funny how things work out."

Larabee heard the sadness in his friend's voice and waited for him to continue. When he remained silent the blond placed a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Things turned out the opposite of how we played it. I ended up working on the side of the law and he's serving ten years for armed robbery."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He made his own choices and he has to pay for them. I've talked to him a couple of times and he's doing well. He's got three more years to serve and he's got plans to work with ex-cons once he's out. I think he can make a go of it if he really wants to." Tanner handed the badge back to Larabee who held up his hands.

"No, you keep it, Vin."

Tanner placed the battered badge in his pocket and smiled. "Thanks, Cowboy."

"Anytime, Pard," Larabee smiled as they exited the old saloon.

The door to the building next to the saloon was still intact and Larabee stepped through the broken window frame. He stopped as something poked him in the ribs.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Stranger. Folks 'round here don't cotton to thieves. Might just have ta throw ya in the jail for the night."

"You gonna clean it up first?"

"Round here the bad guys clean up."

"Ain't no maid," Larabee told him and again the two men laughed. Chris took a deep breath and stepped into the dull interior. Broken shelves lined one wall, litter and more animal remains stood in another corner. Dust billowed up around them as their feet disturbed the layers of dirt covering the floor.

"Bless you," Tanner said as Larabee sneezed three consecutive times.

"Thanks. These guys could really use Ezra's interior decorator."

"Or a damn good dust buster," Tanner deadpanned as he walked to the old counter.

"Can you imagine what this town was like in its day?"

"Yeah. Gunfights, saloon girls, cowboys, rustlers..."

"Sounds like a place Buck and JD would have loved."

"You got that right. Imagine Nathan having to patch people up in those days without the training he's got now."

"Ouch! I bet Josiah would've had to deliver a lot of last rights."

"Probably. Life was hard in those days."

"Yeah, but I bet they had good times as well."

"A lot cheaper back then too, but then again they had to live on a lot less money. I think my grandfather mentioned the lawmen in Four Corners were paid a dollar a day," Larabee said as he examined the broken counter.

"A dollar a day," Tanner's voice was filled with awe as he spoke the words. "Wasn't a lot of money to lay your life on the line was it?"

"No, but that was more than most lawmen got."

"Imagine Ezra living off that."

"Mother would be appalled at even entertaining such an idea," Larabee said in a perfect imitation of the southerner's voice.

"Shit, Chris," Tanner laughed. "Ez would be appalled at you for that."

"Probably, but what he don't know won't hurt him."

They left the store and wondered back into the sunlight. They walked south along the main street, bypassing the structures that had already crumbled to the ground. They stopped before a building with a sign swaying in the slight breeze.

"Do you think they have a room for the night?" Tanner asked with a grin.

"I don't know if I'm willing to stay in a place that doesn't have any air conditioning."

"What are you talking about? Look at this place. They've got natural air conditioning," the sharpshooter laughed. "It's called the open air look."

"Yeah," Larabee agreed as he looked around the side. "Lots of open air if you take the room on this side." He laughed as Tanner joined him and looked at the missing wall.

"Oh, Hell, might as well sleep under the stars again."

"My thoughts exactly," The blond agreed as they strode back to the horses.

"Chris?"

Larabee frowned at the serious tone of his friend's voice as the stopped in front of the jail once more. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'. Just wanted to say thanks for asking me to come along."

"Anytime, Pard," he said and clasped Tanner's arm in their familiar forearm handshake.

Four Corners 2002

Maguire made the trip into Four Corners early in the morning. It was a trip he'd made everyday since their arrival three days before. He'd walk through the town and try to get a feel for what was going to happen. He'd sent Winston into town to make sure arrangements were made for the rental of a small plane to fly them back to Nevada with their cargo. The other man was due to return that night and for now he was alone in the dusty street. He sensed his query coming closer and knew it was only a matter of time until he was face to face with the man who would bow down to him. A man whose life and death hinged on his own whims. He looked towards the south and knew Larabee and Tanner would soon arrive in the godforsaken town. He turned and walked away knowing he'd have to wait for Winston's arrival before attempting to take the two men down. He would wait for Winston at the remnants of the little shack by the stream.

+ + + + + + +

They left Eagle Bend as dawn brightened the horizon, riding side by side at a leisurely pace. There was no hurry, Four Corners had been there for over a hundred and fifty years and would still be there when they arrived.

Chris thought about the stories his grandfather told him about the lawmen from Four Corners and how they dealt with the Old West criminals of their day. He knew some of the Old West Larabee's background and the amazing similarities with his own past. He knew the Chris Larabee of old had six men he rode with and again he was struck by how the past mirrored the present. He smiled as he thought of his grandfather's words. Chris Larabee, gunslinger and peacekeeper in the small Old West town had gone on to marry a newspaperwoman and lived to a ripe old age. 'qqqWonder if we'll be that lucky,'xxx he thought with a glance at his riding companion.

Vin called a halt mid day and the two men ate a small lunch of jerky, crackers, dried fruit and water. Both men were anxious to be on their way. The town of Four Corners beckoned to them and they wanted to reach it by nightfall. They rode northwest, thoroughly enjoying the scenery around them and the heat of the day. The silence surrounded them, engulfing both men with a sense of belonging. This was the way they usually were, little need for words, a glance here or a smile there was all they needed. The other members of The Firm often commented that working with both men was likened to listening to oneself think. No sound, but you could see the wheels turning.

The sun dipped below the horizon when the town came into view. It had taken a full day's ride to get there, but with the onslaught of dusk, the town was a wonderful sight to the weary travellers. It seemed to have faired better than Eagle Bend, with more of its buildings standing, but it had suffered over the years.

The closer they got to the town the darker the terrain became. It took nearly an hour to cover the distance and they finished the trip under a blanket of stars. They stopped in front of the first building and dismounted without a word, a sense of wonder seemed to befall both men as they looked down the street. Vin reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a flashlight. He turned it on and the bright light illuminated the structure as they entered. They could tell the structure had once been a church even though most of the walls had crumbled. Two pews were still standing and part of the pulpit was in evidence at the front of the hall.

"I wonder if the preacher who gave the sermons had a voice as strong as Josiah," Vin said as they looked around.

"Somehow I think he probably did. Well, it's kind of dark to go exploring this place so why don't we spend the night here?"

"It's as good a place as any," Tanner agreed.

Within an hour the two men were settled down with coffee, a small fire going between them. The horses were cared for and settled for the night. Chris picked up the flask and split the last of the whiskey between them.

Vin lay back against his saddle and looked up through the hole in the ceiling. The sound of crickets chirping was the only sound in the still night. He felt himself drifting towards sleep and shivered just as he gave into the weariness in his mind and body.

Chris lay in the dark listening to the soft snores from the man on the opposite side of the fire. He sighed heavily and tried to sleep, but since waking that morning a heavy sense of foreboding had overshadowed the thrill of this trip. He shook off the feeling and turned onto his side. He studied the sleeping man's face and was glad to see it relaxed, without the lines that usually showed when they were working on a case. Vin Tanner was a man who took his job seriously and because of that he and the other five were alive and would remain that way as long as he was watching their backs. He gave into sleep, but it wasn't a peaceful one.

Chris struggled to wake and found himself trapped in a cave. His hands and feet were bound and his clothes had been removed. His head shifted from side to side as his mind relived a nightmare from the past, but not his past. He felt the whip as it cut into his back and flinched away from itqqq. 'No!'xxx he cried, but the sharp sting told him there'd be many more. A voice haunted him and he heard the words echoing through his mind. qqq'I bought this just for you, Chris. You should feel honored that I spent this money on my gift for you. I did not want to use instruments that were sullied by others. You are special, Chris Larabee, and nothing that touched anyone else will touch the skin on your body. You will soon understand how much you mean to me. You will soon beg me to take your soul and free you from the chains of life.'xxx The voice drawled as a shadow pulled the whip back and let it fly in a tight arc towards his shivering form.

qqq'No!'xxx Chris cried out as the whip continued to ravage the flesh on his back. He fought to breath past the pain and wake from the horrid nightmare.

Vin opened his eyes and frowned into the darkness. It took a few seconds to remember where he was and he wondered what had woke him up. A sound from his right made him turn towards his companion. Chris lying on his back, his arms held over his head, his body arching upwards off the ground as if he was struggling with something. Tanner was on his feet instantly and moved to the blond's side.

"Chris, wake up," he said softly as he placed his hands on Larabee's trembling body. His voice was edged with worry as his friend continued to fight some unseen enemy.

"Son of a Bitch!" Chris cried as something wet was pressed against his back and the agony erupted inside him.

Tanner placed his hand on Larabee's shaking shoulders and spoke softly, fighting to get through whatever was causing the nightmare. "Come on, Cowboy, it's just a dream." He felt the body shudder one last time and lay still. He heard the sharp intake of breath and knew Larabee had just been threw one hell of a nightmare.

Chris tried to control the trembling in his body as he pulled his arms down. He remembered most of the dream including the sting of the whip biting into his back and the helplessness of having his wrists bound tightly over his head. He turned onto his side and focused on the man kneeling beside him. He saw the worry etched on the face and shrugged. "Shit, sorry, Vin, didn't mean to wake you."

"Must've been some dream," Tanner said as he added wood to the glowing embers.

"Yeah, you could say that," Larabee forced the feeling of dread to the back of his mind and sat up. He ran his hand through his hair and smiled at the worried tracker. He reached for the flask and remembered they'd drank the last of it the night before. qqq'Damn!'xxx he thought as he watched his friend closely. "Sorry, I woke you."

"It's okay. What time is it?"

Larabee pressed the button of his watch and a soft green glow lit up the numbers. "2:44," he answered. "Go back to sleep, Vin."

"What about you?" Tanner asked as he watched the blond closely.

"I'm going back to sleep, preferably without the nightmares," the blond smiled as he watched the tracker settle back on his bedroll. He closed his eyes and tried to rid his body of the feeling of the leather whip striking him over and over. He moved on his bedroll, surprised when no pain flared in his back. 'qqqIt was so damn real,' xxxhe thought as his mind drifted towards sleep once more.

Vin listened to his friend and knew instinctively when he fell asleep. He lay awake and gazed at the dancing shadows cast by the flickering flames from the small fire. He trembled as icy fingers trailed down his spine. He knew something was going to happen and he would be ready when it did. His Grandfather had taught him not to ignore his natural instincts and he wasn't going to start now. He knew whatever was destined to happen it involved his friend and the nightmare he'd just had. He frowned as he remembered the cry of pain Larabee issued at one point in his sleep and he didn't want to hear that again.

"Hey, Vin, are you gonna sleep all day?"

Tanner heard the annoying voice and struck out with his right hand.

"Whoa, Tanner, it's just me!"

"Huh," the tracker said as he struggled to lift heavy eyelids.

"I was wondering if you planned on sleeping all day."

The tracker sat up and blinked the sand from his eyes. "What time is it?" he asked as he stretched the kinks from his back. He rotated his shoulders and neck as he stood up.

"It's 7:55."

"Shit, guess I must've been more tired than I thought."

"Especially with me waking you in the middle of the night. Sorry, Cowboy."

"Hell, Chris, ya didn't do nothin' ta be sorry for. Now what did ya make fer breakfast?"

"Beans!"

"Beans? Shit!"

"It was either beans or jerky."

"Guess I'll take the beans."

"Good choice." Larabee handed him a plate and the two men ate in companionable silence. Chris lifted his eyes and met the blue gaze that was always a welcome sight. "So, you ready to check out this place?"

"Yeah. Where do you want to start?"

"Why don't we go down this side of the street? We have four days to check this place out before we have to head back." He placed his empty plate on the floor and watched as Tanner doused the fire with dirt. Once the fire was out the two men left their belongings and walked out into the street. The building next door was completely destroyed and they bypassed it. The next one was a two story structure with three walls still standing. A set of stairs led up to a second floor but they could tell the wood wouldn't bare their weight. The two friends walked into the bottom floor and knew they were in what was once a livery and blacksmith. An old anvil lay against one of the stalls, half hidden by rotted boards and ruined leather straps. They walked through the old stables, wondering what life must've been like for the man who looked after the town's horses.

+ + + + + + +

"Mark, is everything arranged?"

"Yes, Sir. The plane will be there when we arrive. Michaels was only to glad to let you have it once I told him it would wipe out his debt to you. It will be fueled and ready when we arrive. He will leave it at the old airfield north of Santa Fe."

"Excellent." Maguire smiled as he looked towards the broken down shack. My great, great grandfather mentioned something about Christopher Larabee owning a piece of land with a shack on it not far from Four Corners. I believe this is the place." He grew silent for a moment and walked towards the stream. "He's here you know?"

"He is?"

"Yes. I can feel him. It's like the air is charged with an undercurrent of anticipation. I'm ready for this. More ready than I've ever been in my life. I can succeed where my ancestor didn't. I will kill Christopher Larabee, but first I will prove that I truly am his master."

"When do you wish to take him?"

"We leave now. Make sure you take your rifle. You must kill Tanner before I can use the tranquilizer gun for Larabee. I want him to know that his friend is dead before we leave here. It will demoralize him and make him easier to handle," Maguire explained.

Winston opened the trunk of the sleek black car and pulled out a sniper's rifle. He checked to make sure he had cartridges. Next he pulled out the tranquilizer gun and made sure there were extra darts.

"Don't prick yourself with those things or you'll be of no use to me."

"I won't, Robert," Winston said as he handed over the gun.

"Let's go, my destiny awaits."

Part 4

Chris waited for Vin to catch up with him and smiled as he took the canteen. He drank a small amount and passed it back to the tracker. "Thanks, it's a little dry around here."

"A little? Hell, Larabee that's about the biggest understatement I've ever heard." He drank from the canteen as they walked towards the next building.

The jail was much the same as the one in Eagle Bend. The bars were still intact; a set of keys lay on the battered remains of a desk and a set of manacles hung from a hook on the wall. The restaurant was bare except for a few pieces of broken dishes and a big pot with a hole in the center. Again there was evidence that animals had moved in at one point in time, although the place was eerily quiet right now. They'd explored the hotel and the bathhouse, finding an old tub in one of the rooms and a dog-eared book in another. The book hadn't been there long and both men realized someone else had explored the town in the last few months.

Chris stopped in front of the next building and frowned. He looked at his friend and pointed towards the open door. "I think this place was the town's newspaper."

"What makes you say that?" Tanner asked curiously.

"I'm not sure. Just a feeling I got."

"Why don't we find out?" the tracker asked and led the way inside.

The sun shone through the windows, illuminating the interior of the building. They explored the first room, finding items that would be worthless today, but would've been used to print papers in the early days of Four Corners. The walls were bare, except for graffiti, put there by kids who had nothing better to do.

Chris spotted a shelf which would've once held papers and walked towards it. He ran his hands over the intricate designs and swore as a sliver of wood embedded itself in his finger.

Tanner laughed as Larabee pulled the offending item from his finger. He turned back to the desk he was standing by and touched the edge. His finger ran along the bottom of a drawer and felt a small notch. The desk was weather beaten and had definitely seen better days, yet he knew there had to be a drawer in it somewhere. It was very similar to one owned by a family he'd stayed with in his early teens.

Larabee heard a scraping sound and turned towards his friend. He watched Tanner struggle with something under the desk until finally he pulled an object free. "What have you got?" he asked as he joined the younger man.

"It looks like an old strongbox. I found it in a hidden drawer of the desk." He examined the box and found a latch on one side. He slipped it off and lifted the lid. Inside were clippings from old papers and Vin carefully picked them up. He held them in his hands, amazed at the yellowed paper and the ancient print.

"You missed one, " Larabee said as he picked up one final piece of paper. The words were barely legible, but he was able to decipher what it said.

qqqRobert Maguire is wanted for the torture deaths of four men. The murders took place near his hometown but went undiscovered until a young couple stumbled over the gruesome scene while riding near Simpson's Crossing. The victims were identified by belongings found nearby. Ronald Parker, Johnny Mercer, Brian Barnes, and Joseph Carter were positively identified by family members and later shipped to their homes for proper burial. The bodies were scored with knife wounds, lash marks and burns, officials state the men suffered over a period of several days. Officials are unsure if Maguire was acquainted with the four men or if they were victims of a random rage. However, they report that the men appeared similar in appearance, all being of the same age, height, build, with blond hair and green eyes. This information was confirmed with the victims' families, who also knew of no known association between the men or with Maguire. Robert Maguire is considered dangerous and there is a reward for his capture dead or alive.xxx

Chris finished reading the article and looked at his friend. He was shocked to see Tanner's hands shaking and a worried expression on his face. "What's wrong, Vin?"

"The victims in that article."

"What about them?"

"They could be you."

"What?" Larabee asked incredulously.

"All being of the same age, height, build, with blond hair and green eyes. That's a pretty apt description of you." Tanner shook off the anxiety he felt at the thought of what those men had gone through long ago.

"Just the blond hair and green eyes. Come on, Vin, that happened a lot of years ago. Those people are long dead. What else have you got there?"

Tanner spread the clippings over the dirt-strewn desk and the two men read through them. Most had to do with the town and the plans that were being made for it. Chris picked one up and sucked in a deep breath.

"What is it?" Tanner asked.

"It's about my great, great grandfather."

"What does it say?"

"Says here that Chris Larabee was rescued from the clutches of a madman, but not before sustaining serious injuries. Vin?"

"What?"

"I think maybe one of your relatives lived here too?"

"What do ya mean?"

Larabee handed the clipping to his friend and saw the shock on his face. One name jumped out at him and he smiled as Tanner looked incredulous.

"How can this be?"

"I don't know, but I'd say it has to do with what Josiah says is fate or destiny. I wonder if that Chris and Vin had their own Buck, JD, Ezra, Nathan, and Josiah?"

"I'd say they probably did," Tanner said and stood up. He ran his hand through his hair once more and walked out of the newspaper office. "This is weird, Chris."

"You're telling me," Larabee said as they sat on the edge of a broken step. A frown marred his handsome face as he heard a sound from across the street. He felt Tanner move beside him and stood up. "Someone's out there," he said as a shot rang out.

Vin cried out as a bullet tore into his right shoulder. He felt Larabee tense up beside him as a second bullet struck his head, leaving a crimson trail above his right eye.

"Jesus, Vin," Larabee grabbed Tanner and tried to pull him behind cover when something struck him between the shoulder blades. He reached behind his back and tried to find whatever it was. His hand touched a small dart as he slumped to the ground beside his best friend.

Vin was barely conscious, his eyes mere slits as he watched two figures exit the building across the street. He lay still, unsure whether he could move even if he wanted to. Blinding light and needles of pain lanced through his skull as he tried to turn his head. He knew Larabee had fallen beside him and he didn't know if his friend was dead or alive.

Maguire and Winston stopped before the two downed men.

"Check Tanner!" Maguire ordered as he pulled the tiny dart from the victim and turned him onto his back. He could see the dazed green eyes looking up at him and he spoke softly. "You've been given a very strong sedative to make you easier to handle, Christopher."

"Tanner's dead, Robert."

Chris tried to sit forward, but his body felt stiff and unyielding His mind drifted, yet he knew there was something important he had to do. His right hand snaked out to touch the sharpshooter, but the man standing above him placed a booted heel on top of it. He bit his lip as pain ran the length of his fingers.

"W...who the f...fuck are you?" His voice was slurred and he sounded drunk.

"My name is Robert Maguire, Christopher. You and I will get to know each other really well before I take your life. I will learn your strengths and weaknesses and use them against you. Get him up, Mark, I want to be on our way as soon as possible."

Larabee stared at the two men as they pulled him to his feet. The sedative had taken complete control and he felt as if he had no strength. He couldn't think straight, but he glanced over his shoulder at the man lying on the ground. The right side of Tanner's chest was covered in blood. A stream of crimson fluid ran down his left cheek and Larabee remembered the second man saying Tanner was dead. qqq'No!'xxx he thought as his legs gave out and his two captors dragged him down the center of the street. They stopped in front of the crumbling church and he was dropped to the ground. He turned onto his side and forced his body to obey his commands. He dragged his heavy body back towards the sharpshooter. He lifted his head every once in a while to see how much progress he'd made. 'qqqOne hand in front of the other, Larabee,'xxx he thought as he struggled to find out the truth about Vin Tanner. He blinked rapidly as he felt the sedative take hold of his mind. A foot landed on his back and his arms gave out.

"B...bastards!" he hissed.

"Going somewhere, Christopher?" Maguire asked as he turned the blond over once more.

"Fu...fucking pr...prick. lemme g...go," his voice cracked as he licked his dust covered lips.

"Sorry, Christopher, but you and I have a destiny to fulfill that's long overdue. Get him on the horse, Mark."

Chris fought weakly as he was lifted off the ground. His fist struck the man's jaw, but rolled off it without doing any damage. He was thrown over the back of the horse and a rope was tied to his wrists, brought under the horse and attached to his ankles.

"Vin!" he hissed as the horse he was on began to move and consciousness finally left him.

+ + + + + + +

Vin woke to the sun beating down on him and pain racing through his body. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture in his mouth. His right arm was useless and his head throbbed as he clenched his eyes tightly. He struggled with the fog enshrouding his mind, but was unable to grasp why he lay on the hard ground in the middle of a broken down town.

He tried to sit up, but cried out as agonizing pain ripped through his skull. "Fuck!" he hissed as he lay back in the dirt. He lifted his left hand and gingerly touched his head. He felt dried blood along his right cheek. He felt above his eye and winced as he came in contact with the gash there.

His left hand dropped to his shoulder and he knew he'd lost a lot of blood, but it had slowed down. 'qqqWhat the fuck am I doing out here?'xxx he thought, his mind swimming in a jumble of disconnected thoughts. He used his left arm and levered up to his knees, crying out as the pain increased and his body trembled. "Where the hell... Chris!" he cried out and tumbled back to the ground as he fought the beckoning darkness. "Ch...Chris!" he called again, but the only sound in the abandoned town was his own wheezy voice and echoes of the past. He forced his eyes open and searched for his missing friend. Snatches of a conversation ran through his mind and mixed with the newspaper clipping Chris had read him. Loss of blood and the near blinding headache made it impossible to think, but he knew there was something he needed to do. His left hand inched towards the pocket of his jeans and he felt the small compact cell phone. His blood slickened fingers slid into the pocket and pulled the cell phone out. He flipped it open, but his eyes wouldn't cooperate and the tiny digits were impossible to make out. He had to get help for both of them.

"Chris," he called as his body and mind gave into the need for relief. The cell phone slid from his fingers as his head dropped back to the ground.

+ + + + + + +

Winston pulled the blond from the horse and dropped him to the ground. Whatever was in the sedative Maguire had given the man, was doing its job. Larabee remained lethargic, sometimes moaning as his head struck the body of the horse.

Chris felt the ropes being cut from his hands and needles and pins of feeling flooded into his fingers. He knew whatever this man had given him was making it impossible to think clearly. He cried out as his body hit the ground, sending a shockwave through his left shoulder. His eyes shot open and he struggled to regain control of his own mind, but the heaviness was still there. He tried to remember what happened to put him into this position, but again conscious thought was impossible. He struggled against the set of strong hands that clasped onto his arms and pulled him to a sitting position. His eyes glared daggers at the stranger and he lashed out with his right hand.

Maguire laughed as Larabee's fist barely touched Winston's cheek. The sedative he'd given Larabee would keep him controllable for another hour at the most and he felt in his pocket to make sure he had the new drug he would use there. This one would have a totally different effect on the blond, one that would leave him in a world of misery, not knowing what was real and what was a hallucination. "Get him in the car," he ordered.

Winston dragged the weakly struggling man towards the car and waited for Maguire to open the back door. He shoved Larabee inside and fastened the seatbelt around him. He knew they'd travel on the highway and didn't want to take the chance of being stopped by the highway patrol.

Maguire slid in beside his victim and watched as Larabee fought to keep his eyes open. "Fighting it won't help, Christopher. You might as well relax, sleep and enjoy the ride. It's probably gonna be the last chance you have for a restful sleep."

His tongue felt thick and too big for his mouth, his head swam as he tried to focus and voice his warring thoughts. "Fu...fucking ba...bastards." the words were mumbled and slurred. He cried out as an elbow embedded in his side.

"You will not use that language with me."

Larabee's eyes clouded over as he glared angrily at the man seated beside him. "Who t...the f...fuck ya t...think y...ya are?"

"I'm your master, Christopher. The man who was meant to teach you what the relationship is between an Alpha male, me and my natural right to lord things over you."

"Never!" Larabee swore and reached for the handle on his door. He fumbled with the it, his fingers sliding off as the drug continued to hold him in its grasp.

"You'll know the truth soon enough, Christopher. Don't bother with the door because you'll just fall out and force me to give you something to put you out. I assure you I'd rather have you awake and understanding what's going to happen."

Chris ignored the taunting voice beside him as his fingers finally closed over the handle. He pulled it back and tried to push the door open.

"Mark, pass me back my case," Maguire said as the door beside Larabee opened. He watched the blond fumble with the seatbelt and smiled. "Would you like me to help you with that, Christopher?" he asked and pressed the button to release it.

Chris felt the seatbelt release its hold on him and forced his legs to obey his orders. He was rewarded when inch by slow inch he slid them over the edge and climbed out of the car. Every ounce of strength he had went into getting out of the car. He leaned heavily on the door, his legs trembling, his body shaking with the effort it took to stand up. He tried to move away from the car but his legs could not hold him any longer and he fell to the ground. Laughter met his ears as he struggled to crawl away. His mind had finally clamped on the illusive memory he'd been trying to grasp. He saw Vin Tanner's bloody body lying on the ground in the abandoned town, two words echoed in his mind, over and over as he struggled with the emotions they brought. Tears slid down his cheeks as he heard the words again. 'qqqTanner's dead!'xxx qqq'He can't be dead,'xxx Larabee thought as someone grabbed him and turned him onto his back. He blinked his eyes and watched as one of the men knelt beside him. There was something about the eyes that caught and held his attention. He'd read once that sharks had dead, lifeless eyes and this man's eyes matched that description.

He tried to move away once more, but was stopped as the second man held him down. He fought them, but to no avail. His anger grew as the two men smiled down at him. He could see the man with the dead eyes opening a black case and he lifted his head slightly to see what was inside.

Maguire smiled as Larabee tried to fight the drug. He watched as the dirty blond head lifted slightly off the ground and look at the contents of his case. "Would you like to know what I'm going to do now?"

"Fuck you!" Larabee snarled as he lay back in the dirt, his body refusing to respond to his commands.

"You will learn not to use language like that around me Christopher! I am a man of refined means and I don't like such vulgarity in my presence!"

"To fuckin' bad!" Larabee snarled and smiled at the angered look on his captor's face.

Maguire refused to be bated and turned his gaze on the open case. "Ah, Christopher, my ancestor was way ahead of his time," Maguire said as he picked up a small vial and syringe. "He gave his Christopher Larabee a derivative from the nightshade plant. It is an amazing drug and could easily kill when given in the wrong dosage, but that will not happen here." He slid the syringe into the top of the vial and drew the clear liquid into the syringe. "This is atropine, made from the same plant, but you see I have added a few, let's just say alkaloids, to make you a little more uncomfortable. You will suffer from the same symptoms as your ancestor did, but I will be better able to control it. Your mouth will feel dry, you'll be hot, but unable to sweat. Your heart will race like a speeding locomotive, but you will not die." He grinned as he swabbed an alcohol pad across his victims shoulder and prepared to inject the drug. He signaled for Winston to hold him down and waited until the man was in position. "I'm afraid there'll be some terrifying hallucinations to go with the vomiting and cramping." he said as he jabbed the needle into Larabee's shoulder. "Just relax and go with it. I'm sure you'll see your dead wife and child while you're under the influence of this cocktail."

Chris tried to pull away as something sharp pierced his arm. Whatever was in the syringe burned as it was forced into his veins. A strange feeling instantly crept over him, dousing the firestorm that had been brewing since his escape from the car. He felt the hands release him and he rolled onto his left side as painful cramps took up residence in his stomach. He doubled up, trying to curl himself into a ball in order to escape the pain and nausea. His stomach burned and heaved as the contents erupted in a violent stream of noxious fumes. He panted and rolled on the hard ground as wave after wave of nausea washed through his system. He had no idea how long it lasted and didn't care anymore. He wanted, needed it to stop, but somehow he knew it was only just beginning.

Maguire watched as the cocktail he injected into the blond did its job. It took less than two minutes to have the desired affect and his victim writhed on the ground as he vomited whatever he'd eaten earlier. He lifted his eyes and looked at Winston as the other man watched in abstract horror. Maguire knew what to expect from the drugs, but he hadn't warned his employee. He smiled as Winston walked away from the scene and heard him retching into the bushes alongside the tiny shack. He waited for his friend to return and closed his case. Larabee was still curled onto his side, trembling, but no longer sick. "I don't relish the idea of a long drive in the heat with him smelling like that. Take him to the stream and clean him up. Just make sure he doesn't drown."

Winston tried in vain to uncurl Larabee's lean frame, but his body seemed frozen in position. He gave up, grabbed the blond under the arms and dragged him towards the stream forty feet away. He lifted the dead weight and dropped him into the stream.

Chris gasped as he was dropped into the chilly water. His mind raced with terrible images as his body sank beneath the stream. His mouth opened in a scream and water flooded inside.

Winston lifted the blond head above the water and watched as the green eyes opened and a wracking coughed expelled the water from the man's lungs. He smiled as he dipped the blond under the surface several times.

Chris's instincts cut through the hallucinations and he held his breath as he sank beneath the cold water. Vivid images flashed threw his mind as he opened his eyes. A great white shark swam towards him, mouth gaping to reveal row after row of sharp white teeth. Vin Tanner's dead blue eyes stared at him from the face of the shark and he shuddered uncontrollably.

Winston shoved him under again and felt the power he had over the life he held in his grasp. He shoved down further until Larabee struck the rocks on the bottom.

Chris stared in wide-eyed horror as the shark continued towards him. He tried to lift his feet but his body wouldn't obey as the sharp teeth closed over his legs. He scream as his head broke the surface and was rewarded with more cramps cutting through his stomach.

Maguire watched from the car as Winston dipped the blond below the surface of the stream. He heard the blood-curdling screams and knew they had nothing to do with the water. Larabee was probably already hallucinating and things would only grow worse for him as the drug flowed through his system. "That's enough, Mark. Get him out and get dry clothes on him."

Fifteen minutes later Larabee, now dressed in khaki fatigues, was once again strapped into the back seat of the car. His eyes were open, but he wasn't with them. His mind continued to fight the blue-eyed shark, his body slowly being sucked into the mouthful of razor sharp canines. He struggled furiously and felt blood seep from his legs as the teeth clamped over them. "NO!" he screamed as the familiar eyes in an unfamiliar setting laughed at his struggles.

Maguire watched the fear filled face as Winston climbed behind the steering wheel. The car started up and they left the little shack and the town of Four Corners behind them.

A soft breeze and a whisper of a voice interrupted the silence of the abandoned shack. qqq'Hang on, Son! Your friends will be there for you!'xxx The breeze was gone before it riffled the brush and the long ago voice was silenced once more.

Soft whispers penetrated his pain filled awakening, driving back the cobwebs, but leaving a hint of confusion. He opened his eyes, only to slam them shut as the dying sun cast the last of her bright rays into his eyes. Shadows formed and lengthened around him, but his eyes were glued to the six figures standing in the middle of the street. Vin's eyes grew wider as he realized he was seeing the town of Four Corners as it was in the days of the Old West. He blinked rapidly as sweat flowed into his eyes and his vision blurred once more. He could hear soft voices, but couldn't quite pick out what was being said. Once more he fought the pain and the confusion and forced his eyelids upwards, fighting the gravity that weighed them down. The six figures stood before him and he gasped as he recognized the faces. They belonged to the members of The Firm, but there was something different about them. A man dressed in black walked towards him, speaking softly, yet the words didn't make sense. There was no doubt in his mind who these men were, but he didn't understand why he could see them now.

"Ch...Chris..."

"I am Chris Larabee, but not the man you know. You must help him, Vin. Help him before Robert Maguire of your time succeeds in the destiny his great, great grandfather was intent on seeing."

"H...how can th...this be? You c...can't be real!"

qqq"We are real, Son, only we are real in the past. Your past, Chris' past, Nathan, Josiah, JD, Ezra and Buck's past."xxx This man was a mirror image of his own Josiah Sanchez and Vin felt his heart beat faster in his chest as the others came forward.

qqq"You need to save him, Vin,"xxx this came from Wilmington.

qqq"We'll help when we can,"xxx Jackson assured him.

"qqqWatch for us, Vin, we'll be here when you need us,"xxx Dunne said as he touched Tanner's chest.

Standish knelt beside him and placed something in his hand. Vin didn't have the energy to look at it, but he held it tight. qqq"You must call for help, Mr. Tanner. Use your phone."xxx The voice faded and his eyelids closed once more.

Vin had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but the sun was quickly sinking below the horizon. His body trembled with the onset of fever and he struggled to grasp the illusive memories of where he was and why he was here. Gunshots...Chris...two men... flashes of pain and fleeting memories of a name. Robert Maguire, who was he and what was he doing here? The newspaper clippings, his eyes grew wide as he remembered the papers in the old building. Papers that mentioned Robert Maguire and yet the man with fiery hair said his name was Robert Maguire. More memories came to him and he looked around the town. He knew what he'd seen was not real and caused by his fevered mind, yet something about the soothing voices and the warning caused him to shiver uncontrollably. He looked at his hand and gasped as he saw the faded card there. He dropped it to the ground as if he'd been scalded. His breath came in hitching gulps as he lay there, unaware of the whispering winds flowing across him. He waited until he got his trembling body under control and reached out to pick up the card. It was old and dog-eared, yet he knew it was the ace of spades and the visit from the past was somehow real. He remembered Standish' parting words and gasped "Gotta call for help," he muttered.

qqq'Phone,'xxx he thought as he pushed his protesting body upwards. His breathing became haggard and he coughed, his left arm holding his right as agonizing fire ripped through his upper arm and shoulder. The dry cough subsided enough for him to move in spite of the pain. "H...have to help Ch...Chris," he mumbled as the fingers of his left hand finally closed over the small phone. His vision blurred and he couldn't pick out the numbers. He knew the first button was keyed to Larabee's home line, the second to Wilmington's and the third to Sanchez. Knowing Sanchez would be the best bet to answer he pressed the button and felt for the send. He held the phone to his left ear and listened as the connection was made. He heard the first ring through a haze of pain and tried to take a deep breath. The pain was almost his undoing until a familiar voice broke through it.

"Sanchez."

"Jo...siah, he...help! S...shot! Chris!"

"Vin?" The ex preacher heard the voice, but couldn't quite understand what he was saying. He knew Chris and Vin were checking out Old West ghost towns in New Mexico. The two men weren't due back for another six days, but something told him they'd be seeing Tanner a lot sooner. "What's wrong, Son?"

"Shot. Hu...rrts. Help...Chris...Help!"

"I will, Vin, just slow down a minute. Where are you two?"

"Four Co...Corners. Gh..." Vin's hand dropped to the ground and the phone slipped from nearly useless fingers as he fought to keep his tenuous hold on consciousness. He knew he was going to be sick and groaned as his stomach revolted and what ever was left from the early breakfast emptied on the ground beside him. He licked parched lips and felt his tongue stick to the cracked skin. He knew he needed water, but his first priority was to get help. Something had happened to Chris and he needed to let the others know before it was too late.

"Vin, are you still there? What's happened to you and where's Chris? Vin, pick up the phone!"

He heard the harsh voice and knew he had to obey the command. Once more he forced his fingers to wrap around the phone and bring it to his ear. "H...help...Chris....help. Took...'im."

"We're gonna get you help, Vin. Four Corners, that's the second ghost town you and Chris were going to visit?"

"Chris, hurt, gotta h...help h...him..."

"Where is he?"

"D...don't know....Fu...fuckers t...took him."

"Took him?" Sanchez repeated. "Vin, was Chris kidnapped."

"S...son's a bitches took 'im, Jo...Josiah...Don't..."

The ex-preacher listened to the dry hacking cough from the other end of the line and knew Tanner wouldn't be conscious much longer. "We'll find you, Vin. We'll find you both."

"Get, C...Chris...Shot...hu...rts."

"Chris is shot?"

"N...no, m...me. Shot a...arm....head....can't stay a...awake....h...help..."

"Vin? Come on, Son, stay with me," Sanchez said as he booted up his computer. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening and he reached for the phone on the computer table. He knew he needed to call the others, but first he had to get the police and medivac chopper out to Tanner's location. His worry for the two men grew with each passing minute. He knew from Tanner's voice he was in serious need of medical attention and wondered just what happened to the two friends.

Privately owned airstrip outside Albuquerque, New Mexico-2002

Maguire smiled as they loaded Larabee onto the plane. He could tell the blond was still caught in the drug-induced hallucinations. One minute he'd be silent, the next he'd be screaming about sharks and fire. The fire he knew stemmed from the death of Larabee's wife and son, but the sharks were something he knew nothing about. He watched as once again the green eyes opened and a horrifying scream escaped the drugged man's throat. He was amazed when the long legs drew up close to the lean body as if the imagined creature was actually biting at his extremities. qqq'This is way better than I ever imagined. You'd be proud of me Grandfather,xxx' he thought.

Winston placed the trembling man in the seat and reached across to do up the seatbelt.

Chris felt the shark at his legs and lashed out as the blue eyes seemed to follow him everywhere. He kicked and struck out with his hands. Smiling in satisfaction as his fist struck something cold. Pain lanced through his body once more as something struck him hard across the face.

Winston was unprepared for the ferocity of the victim's attack and fell back as Larabee's fist struck his jaw. He came up quickly and returned the blow, snapping the head back. Blood flew from the corner of the blond's mouth as his teeth cut in his lip.

Fireworks exploded behind his eyelids as Chris felt pain wash through him. Somehow the vicious blow from Winston caused the hallucination to lose its hold on him. The shark with Vin's eyes disappeared as he forced his own eyes open. He saw the man in front of him and swung at him instinctively. The man easily moved out of the way as Chris' leaden body slumped forward in the chair. He forced his mind to focus on what needed to be done and reached for the seatbelt once more.

"I'm afraid you'll have to sleep the rest of the way, Christopher. Mark hold him!"

"Yes sir," Winston said and he grabbed the weakly flailing arms.

"NO!" Larabee fought against the restraining hold, pulling up reserves he didn't know he had. He flung the man away and reached for the one seated beside him. His hands found their way around Maguire's neck and he squeezed tightly, smiling in triumph as the brown eyes sparked with fear. He felt his fingers tighten and watched as his knuckles turned white, the fire in his body and the need to avenge Tanner's death gave him the strength he needed.

Winston knew he had to do something. Larabee was quickly squeezing the life from his struggling friend. Maguire's eyes were rolling up in his head, his lips were tinged in blue, yet he couldn't pry Larabee's fingers from the other man's neck. He reached into his shoulder holster and pulled out the gun he carried. He lifted it above his head and brought it down on the back of the blond head.

Chris felt something hit him and gasped as pain exploded in his skull. He felt his fingers loosen slightly, but wasn't ready to give in. He regained his hold, praying he had the strength to kill the man who'd taken the other half of his soul.

Winston gasped as he realized the blond was still choking the life from Maguire. He brought the gun up a second time and brought it crashing down on Larabee's head once more. He was reward with a huff of air and the fingers releasing the older man. He grabbed the now unconscious form and shoved him aside. He reached for his friend and held him tight as he massaged the trembling shoulders. "Robert, are you all right? Come on, breathe. That's it," he sighed in relief as Maguire drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"W...where's Larabee?" Maguire's voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper as he forced the words past his ravaged throat.

"He's right there. I had to hit him twice to make him let go. Are you okay?" he asked with growing concern.

"I'm f...fine. Just get him st...strapped in and l...let's get out of here."

Winston turned to the prone form and lifted the unconscious blond into the seat. He secured the seatbelt once more as a soft moan issued from the slack lips. "He's still not totally out."

"He will be," Maguire was back in control and anger shone in his eyes as he reached into the open case. He picked up a new vial and loaded a syringe. "This'll keep him out for at least six hours. Hold his arm out!"

The pain was almost unbearable as he tried to open his eyes. He lifted his hand and touched the back of his head, wincing as his fingers made contact with a lump there. He frowned as his hand was pulled away from his head and something cold was swiped across his forearm. He opened unfocused eyes as something sharp slid into his vein. He didn't have time to wonder what was happening as the drug entered his system and he gave into the call of sleep.

Winston watched as Maguire injected the drug into Larabee's vein and pushed down on the plunger. The green eyes opened for a fraction of a second before his breathing slowed and he slipped into a drug-induced sleep.

"You can let him go now. Christopher Larabee will not be causing any more problems on this flight. Take us to the old woman's place, Mark."

Four Corners 2002

Vin felt someone tugging on his arm and forced his eyes open. he tried to speak, but his throat and mouth were dry. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he fought to focus on whoever was touching him.

"Easy, young fella. Just lie still and let us take care of ya. My name's Rick and I'm a paramedic. My partner's name is Mort and he's just setting up an IV for you," the medic saw the pain written on the man's face and grimaced in sympathy as the pale lips tried to move. "You just let us help you, Vin," he saw the eyes blink rapidly as he shone the light in the blue eyes. "We got a call from a man named Josiah Sanchez. He's pretty worried about you," he said as he continued to examine the young man's injuries. They'd already placed a pressure dressing over the wound in the right shoulder, and on the head wound. He was now checking for signs of a concussion. The dried vomit to the right of the injured man told him he'd already been sick.

Vin forced his tongue past dry, cracked lips and tried to speak. The sounds that came out was more of a croak than words and he tried again. "Ch...ris..."

"Don't try to talk right now," Rick explained as he moistened the lips. He watched as his partner finished with the second IV and began running fluids into the patient's arm. "Get the collar on him. I'll grab the back board and we'll get moving."

"N...no...h...help...Ch...risss..." his voice fizzled and died out as he lost consciousness. Rick placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose in an effort to get more air into the man's lungs.

Within minutes of his loss of consciousness, Vin Tanner was loaded into the medivac chopper and on his way to the University Hospital Trauma Center, the card still clutched tightly in his hand.

The police officers on the scene continued to search for Chris Larabee, having been informed that he accompanied Tanner to the ghost town. They found the old papers on the desk in one of the buildings and placed them in an evidence bag. They followed three sets of tracks along the main street until they stopped before a building on the edge of town. Here they found signs of two horses and the three sets of tracks. Again they followed the tracks. The two officers knew the area well and both men knew where the old trail led. Several hours later they found the tiny shack and two horse tied there. Further investigation turned up black jeans and shirt, and also uncovered tire tracks leading north and away from the area. The tracks came to an end when they turned onto the paved highway.

Part 5

En route-2002

Maguire watched the sleeping man seated beside him. The blond head leaned heavily to the right side, pale lips parted slightly and no sign of pain showed on the handsome face. qqq'Sleep well, Christopher, because very soon our past will catch up to both of us, but this time the ending will be different.'xxx He reached for The Book he kept in his pocket and held it tightly. "I'll make you proud," he whispered to his long dead benefactor.

Albuquerque - 2002

The medivac chopper landed and a swarm of medical personnel descended on it before the rotary blades had a chance to slow down. Rick began giving a low down on the vitals as they raced the unconscious man into the hospital.

The trauma team led by Frank Barnes knew they needed to work quickly. The patient showed all the signs of severe dehydration and major blood loss. The gurney was pushed into a trauma room and the unconscious man was transferred onto a proper examination table, where nurses immediately cut the remainder of his clothing from his body. Something dropped on the floor and a nurse bent to pick it up, frowning as she saw the faded ace of spades. She placed it on the tray with the patient's other possessions and returned to the more immediate concerns.

The team worked like a well-oiled machine attaching new equipment to monitor blood pressure, temperature, oxygen levels, and heart rate.

Blood samples were taken and a bag of O negative blood was placed on the pole over the bed. It was soon running into Tanner's arm in an effort to bring up his blood volume. A foley catheter was soon in place and urine intake would be carefully monitored.

Barnes listened to the patient's lungs and breathed a sigh of relief that they were clear. He turned his attention to the injury to Tanner's shoulder and frowned at the still seeping wound. He knew the bullet was buried deep inside the young man's flesh and would need to be removed as quickly as possible. He looked towards the door as his colleague, Jason Peterson hurried in.

"What have we got, Frank?"

"Bullet wound in the right shoulder. Looks like he was also creased by another one," he explained as he pointed to the bandage covering the head wound. "Blood pressure is still low, but we've got him started on O neg until the blood bank determines his blood type."

"Has he been awake at all?"

"Rick said he was awake for a short period when they were examining him at the site. He hasn't shown any sign of waking up since he was brought in."

Peterson checked Tanner's pupils before turning his attention to the head wound. "I'm gonna want a CT scan done as soon as possible."

"Alright. Jenny, put in a call to CT and tell them we're sending a patient down for a full head scan."

"Right away, Doctor," the petite blond said as she hurried to place the call.

"Jason, pull over the tray and we'll intubate him before sending him for the scan." The tray was pulled into position and the two men went to work on the injured man.

Gerlach, Nevada-2002

Mark Winston smiled as he landed the small plane at the private airstrip outside Gerlach, Nevada. The strip was seldom used anymore, but arrangements had already been made for someone to fly the plane back to its owner in New Mexico. The plane came to a stop a few feet from the end of the runway and he saw the black Jeep Cherokee parked near the old hangar building. The car would've been left as per Maguire's instructions and he knew they'd find a cooler in the back, along with the other supplies they needed. There'd be backpacks full of food, first aid supplies and canteens of water. He knew the old woman's home would be the final leg of the journey and he was looking forward to reaching it. The equipment was for the first leg, the one that would begin as soon as they reached the area north of Sulphur where they'd begin the little game of cat and mouse with the blond. He smiled as he remembered other hunts, other victims who now lay buried in that area of the Black Rock Desert. qqq'You'll be joining them, Larabee,'xxx he thought as he walked to the back of the plane.

"I see he's still out," he observed as he knelt beside the still sleeping man.

"Yes, but he won't be much longer. I need to give him another shot before we leave. Hold his arm for me."

Winston pulled the right arm straight out and watched as Maguire set up for another injection. He smiled as a small moan escaped Larabee's throat.

Maguire grinned as he swiped the alcohol swab across the forearm once more. "Sleep a little longer, Christopher," he said as he slid the needle into the arm. He pressed on the injection site for a few seconds and smiled. "That should keep him until we reach our destination and make sure everything is prepared. Get him into the Jeep and let's get moving before someone sees us," he ordered.

Winston undid the seatbelt and held the man in the seat as he slid forward. He pulled the un-protesting body upwards and slung him over his shoulder. With a quick move he settled the lean form and walked towards the door.

"Hold on and I'll make sure no one's around."

"Okay," Winston said as he watched Maguire leave the airplane. The body slung over his shoulder wasn't very heavy, but it was still a struggle to keep him there.

Maguire did a quick check of the area and was pleased to see the place was indeed deserted. He hurried back to the plane and stepped inside. "Okay, let's get out of here."

The two men hurried towards the jeep and Winston waited for Maguire to reach into the wheel well and grasp the hide-a-key. As soon as the older man opened the door he slid Larabee inside. He reached into the back of the jeep and grabbed the set of handcuffs he knew would be there. Maguire paid well for privacy and money always bought loyalty from anyone greedy enough to want it. The man supplying the jeep and the pilot for the plane had been bought and paid for years ago. He snapped the cuffs on Larabee's wrists, yanking on them to make sure they were as tight as possible. He knew whatever Maguire gave Larabee would keep him sleeping for some time to come, but over the years he'd learned not to leave anything to chance. Too much rested on getting Larabee to their destination. He smiled as he patted the bare arm. qqq'Are you in for a rude awakening,'xxx he thought. He sat Larabee up and placed the seatbelt around him. He leaned the blond head against the side window and covered him with a blanket. To anyone passing them it would simply look like he was sleeping. He got out of the car and took the keys from his friend before climbing in behind the steering wheel.

Maguire entered the car and pulled the door shut. He smiled at his sleeping passenger and pulled out The Book. He opened it and began reading about the first sighting his great, great grandfather had of his Chris Larabee. He looked at the sign as they drove away from Gerlach and smiled as he read the words, yyyWhere The Pavement Ends and the West Begins, 'zzzqqqand Christopher Larabee's worst nightmare comes true,' xxxhe thought, his lips curling in an evil smile.

Albuquerque 2002

Josiah, Nathan and Ezra hurried into the University Hospital Trauma Center. Buck and JD were on their way, but wouldn't be arriving for several hours yet. The ex-preacher hurried up to the information desk and waited for the silver haired woman to end her call.

It wasn't long before she turned her gray eyes on the three worried men.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Yes, Ma'am a friend of ours was brought in here sometime last night."

"Name."

"Vin Tanner," Jackson answered. He watched as her fingers swiftly connected with the keys.

"Yes, we have a Mr. Tanner," she said as she found the listing in the computer.

"Might I enquire as to his location?" Standish asked worriedly.

"He's just being transferred to surgical ICU."

"Where's that?" Jackson asked.

"Third floor. Follow the blue line to elevator C. Take it to the third floor and it'll let you off at the nursing station. Check with the desk and they'll let you know when you can visit Mr. Tanner."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Sanchez said and the three men hurriedly followed the blue line. They remained silent as they waited for the elevator doors to open and stepped inside. When the door opened on the third floor they rushed out and stepped up to the desk. Again they waited for the person behind the desk to hang up the phone.

Nathan read the nametag and asked. "Katy, can you tell us where Vin Tanner is?"

"Who are you gentlemen?" Katy Miller asked.

"My name is Nathan Jackson. This is Josiah Sanchez and that gentleman is Ezra Standish. We're friends of Mr. Tanner."

"I'm sorry, but only family members are allowed to see him right now."

"Ma'am, we're about the closest family he's got," Sanchez told her.

"His next of kin is listed as Chris Larabee."

"That's correct, Katy, but Mr. Larabee is unavailable at the moment," Standish explained. "If there's any way you could check with Saint Vincents hospital in Billings Montana you would find that we are..."

"Frequent visitors," Jackson finished.

"As Mr. Jackson so kindly informed you we are frequent visitors to Saint Vincents. Mr. Tanner is more than an acquaintance or friend, Katy, he is family and as such we need to see him."

Katy Miller looked at the three men and saw the concern on their faces. She understood how they felt and smiled at them. "Let me check with the nurses and see if he's ready for visitors."

"Thank you, Katy," Jackson said as she walked away from the desk. It wasn't long before a man dressed in a white lab coat came out to them.

"Are you gentlemen here for Mr. Tanner?"

"Yes," the three men answered as one.

"My name is Frank Barnes and I'm a member of the trauma team who looked after Mister Tanner..."

"How is he, Doc?" Jackson asked.

"If you'll come with me to the waiting room I'll explain everything we've done for him."

"Mr. Tanner will recover won't he?" Standish asked.

"Please, come with me," the doctor told them and they followed him to a door opposite the nursing station. He held it open and allowed the three dejected looking men to enter. "Sit down."

"Doc, how is he?" Jackson repeated after they introduced themselves and were seated on the cold waiting room chairs..

"Mr. Tanner came in with two bullet wounds. One to his shoulder, which we took out in surgery. It lodged in the collarbone and we've immobilized the arm. The second was to the head and that's the one that has us worried. The CT scan was negative..."

"That's good news isn't it?" Sanchez asked.

"Yes it is, but until he wakes up we won't know anything for sure. He also came in suffering from dehydration and blood loss. We've given him a blood transfusion and running IV fluids into him. He's also got a bad sunburn to his face and arms. Bottom line, gentlemen, is we wait."

"Damn!" Jackson hissed as he ran the list of injuries and treatments through his mind.

"The one good piece of news in all of this was that Mr. Tanner was awake for a few minutes when the Paramedics arrived on the scene."

"Can we see him, Doc?"

"I'll let the nurses know you'll be coming to see him. He's on a ventilator for tonight, but we should be able to remove it tomorrow morning."

"How long before Mr. Tanner wakes up?" Standish asked.

"I can't say for sure. With a head injury like this it could be tomorrow or next week. We really can't give a time limit with this. We simply have to wait until he does. One of the nurses will let you know when you can see him."

"Thank you, Doctor," Sanchez said as they shook the man's hand.

"You're welcome. I just wish I had better news for you. I expect the police will want to speak with you as well."

"We've already been in touch with Captain Parker," Jackson answered.

Frank Barnes opened the door and left the three men to their thoughts. It wasn't long before Katy Miller came into the room and told them they could see the patient. Nathan followed her out the door at the direction of the other two men. They knew Jackson's paramedic training would enable him to tell them how Tanner was and they trusted his opinion. Once Jackson came out Standish and Sanchez would go in. They would keep vigil by their friend until the others arrived.

Nathan followed the tall dark haired nurse to a glass enclosed room close to the nurse's station.

"Carol, Mr. Jackson is a friend of Mr. Tanner and would like to visit with him for a few minutes."

Carol Salmond looked up from her patient and smiled at the handsome man standing in the doorway. "Hello, Mr. Jackson."

"Ma'am," Jackson said as he entered the tiny room.

"Please call me Carol. Talk to him and let him know you're here, Mr. Jackson," she said as she continued to check the readings on the overhead monitors.

Jackson stepped up to the bed and listened to the reassuring hiss of air being fed into Vin Tanner's lungs. He knew what all the tubes were for, knew why they were giving him antibiotics as well as IV fluids. He grimaced at the sunburned face, knowing Tanner would normally have a perfect tan, but the time in the hot sun had caused his skin to burn. He could tell they'd put something on the burns, evidenced by the traces of white cream around his eyebrows and ears.

He reached for the unconscious man's left hand, carefully avoiding the IV lines. "Hey, Vin, you're gonna be just fine. The nurses here are gonna take good care of you and you'll be up and around in no time," he swallowed against the dryness in his throat as he realized how false his words sounded to his own ears. He knew how unpredictable head wounds could be and this was a bad one. "I can't stay long because Josiah and Ezra are waitin' to see you. Buck and JD will be here later today. We're all worried about you, Vin, so keep fi...fighting." He released the slack hand and looked at the nurse. "Thank you," he mumbled as he left the room, his thoughts turning to the missing member of the team. 'qqqWhere the hell are you, Chris?'xxx he thought as Josiah and Ezra passed him and stepped into the room.

Nevada-2002

They'd been following the dirt road for nearly an hour now and Robert Maguire's excitement was building. He looked to the man seated beside him and smiled at the thought of what was to come. The next stop would be Sulphur and from there they'd continue on to the area he used for his game of cat and mouse. He sighed as he realized Christopher Larabee's death would also mean death to the old woman as they would not need her services anymore. Something about this final game felt right. This man would fulfill a need in him that he didn't understand, but reading The Book was bringing it clearer. He still didn't believe in needing to hear Larabee scream, but he now knew it really was destiny. There was no doubt of that anymore, maybe not today or tomorrow, but within the week the blond would be lying in a grave in the blinding white sands of the Black Rock Desert. He turned his attention back to the road as Winston drove at the speed limit, not wanting to be pulled over for any reason. He turned back to the unconscious man and whispered. "The time will come when you beg me to kill you, Christopher, but it won't happen until I feel the time is right. My great, great grandfather thought it was when his victim screamed, but that's not what will do it for me. I need to hear you beg me to take your life and then our Destiny will end with you dead and me succeeding where my ancestor failed."

Albuquerque - 2002

Buck and JD edged into the room and up to the bed. The ventilator was gone now and the pale man was breathing on his own, but he had yet to wake up. Buck reached out and placed his hand gently on Tanner's sunburned forehead, flicking at the unruly hair as he did so. He knew they were going to be moving the patient to a private room in an hour or so if things continued as they were. He silently prayed that they would. The talk with the police had uncovered very few clues as to who shot Vin Tanner and who took Chris Larabee. He knew Jackson and Sanchez were already on their way to Four Corners to see if they could find anything the police might have missed.

They were alone with their friend and Buck looked at the younger man standing beside him. He wasn't surprised when he saw his own worries and fears mirrored on the kid's face. He placed a hand on JD's shoulder and bit back his own pain as he tried to reassure Dunne. He turned his gaze back to the injured man and spoke softly. "Hey, Vin, you're looking better than I thought you would. Hell, that bruise on your face and that sling on your arm are just gonna get all the pretty nurses fawning all over you."

"Yeah, Vin, ya gotta wake up before Buck tries to leave his mark on all of 'em. I mean he can't handle one any more let alone five or..."

"Now, Kid, Vin knows I got what it takes and the ladies love it. Now I'd be willing to let you have your share, Vin, if you'll wake up and show me them perfect Tanner sky blues," Wilmington vowed. The only sound in the room were the clicks and beeps of the medical equipment feeding the injured man fluids and monitoring his vital signs.

JD knew how worried the ladies man was, truth was he was terrified they were losing not one, but two vital members of the team. The doctors assured them that Vin should be fine once he woke up, but until then all they could do was wait. So far nothing had been found that would lead them to the other missing member and things did not look good. He pushed his own worries to the back of his mind and placed a hand on the scoundrel's shoulder. "They'll find him, Buck!"

Wilmington forced a thin smile to his face as he struggled to keep the tears at bay. "I hope so, JD, 'cause I got a feeling it's gonna take a hell of a lot to find Chris this time."

"You can't give up on him, Buck. All those times you told us 'Ol Chris is a fighter and he won't let something like this stop him!'. Don't you believe that anymore?"

"I don't know, JD, I just ...I got a bad feeling that it's gonna take a lot more than just us to find him."

"The police are helping."

"That's not what I mean," Wilmington said, thinking of the strange dreams he'd been having since hearing Chris and Vin would be visiting ghost towns in New Mexico.

"Then what do you mean?"

Buck thought about the seven shadowy figures he saw following Chris and Vin in his dreams. There was nothing malevolent about them, but no matter how hard he tried to see their faces they stayed just beyond the shadows. He had a feeling they were there to help, but how or why he didn't know.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, Kid, I just keep thinking we're gonna be asking for a lot of Josiah's Divine Intervention."

"I think we already have that," Dunne said softly.

"What are you talking about, JD?" Wilmington asked.

"Just something I dreamed about, Buck."

The ladies' man frowned as he heard the tremor in the younger man's voice. "What was it, Kid?"

"You'll say it's stupid."

"Don't be so sure, JD."

"It was a dream. I saw Chris and Vin in some town and they were being followed..."

"By seven men."

"How'd you know!" Dunne exclaimed. "I mean..."

"Had the same type of dream, Kid. Something tells me those seven men are somehow connected to Four Corners."

"Buck, can I see you for a minute."

Wilmington looked towards the door and saw an exhausted looking Ezra Standish there. "JD, stay with Vin."

"I will, Buck," Dunne moved closer to the bed and pulled up a chair.

Ezra signaled for the ladies man to follow him into the waiting room. He sat on one of the chairs and waited for Buck to do the same.

"What's wrong, Ez?" He watched as Standish toyed with something in his pocket and wondered what had the usually unflappable gambler so unnerved.

"I... The nurse in the ER. The one that looked after Vin..."

"What about her?"

"She said Vin was holding something when he was brought in. It dropped on the fl...floor."

"What was it, Ez?"

"I...I'm not sure if it's anything to do with Vin being shot or Chris' disappearance, but..."

"But what?"

Standish swallowed the lump in his throat as he pulled out the dog-eared card and handed it to his friend.

Wilmington frowned as he studied the old style playing card. He could make out a black ace in one corner and in the center of the card could only be a spade. "What is this?"

"The ace of spades."

"I know that, Ezra. That's not what I meant. This is usually your calling card, but this thing seems ancient."

"It is. Mother had a deck from the late 1800s and there is no doubt in my mind this card is from that period."

"Where would Vin get it and why was he holding it when they brought him in?"

"I don't know, Buck. But it feels right to me. It feels like this is a sign that we're going to find Chris."

"I hope you're right, Ez," Wilmington said as he passed back the card. "Because we're gonna need all the help we can get."

Black Rock Dessert-2002

She stood on the porch of her home. The place she'd lived in for forty of her fifty-nine years. A tear formed in her eyes as she realized what she'd stooped to in order to keep the home her long dead husband built for her. She knew she wasn't an angel and she'd done things that went against everything she believed in. The call from her husband's nephew had brought it all crashing back home once more. Five years had passed since the last call. The one that resulted in the death of a man who'd been an enemy of Robert Maguire, now they were bringing another victim to her home. She regretted the day she'd called Mark Winston and asked him to help save her home. He'd done that, but at the cost of her soul,. For she no longer liked who she was. She looked into the window of her home and trembled at her own reflection. A dead woman stared back at her, for that's what she saw in the once vibrant green eyes. She'd lost her love of life and self once she'd given in to the monsters who now owned her. She felt the tears edging down her face, slowly taking some of the pain from her heart, but leaving a sense of hopelessness in its wake. She turned her eyes towards the old mine at the edge of her property, knowing this would be the holding pen for the new victim. The man would be there soon, and everything was ready for him. She felt her body tremble as she fought her own fears. Her shoulders slumped and her tears ran freely down her face as she walked back into her home.

Mark Winston drove slowly through the town of Sulphur. Smiling as he thought of the old joke. qqq'Don't blink or you'll miss it.'xxx He smiled as he looked towards the gas tank. They'd filled up at the last station and had plenty of gas. The next stop they made would be at the beginning of the trek that would see Chris Larabee become the mouse while he and Robert Maguire became the cats. They'd drive the blond towards Mary Winston's home. His aunt would not need that home much longer. She'd be dead and buried along with the sleeping man seated in the back.

He passed through the town and continued along the dirt road. Miles and miles of white sand would soon be all they could see. The searing heat of the day would be tempered by the rapid drop in temperature at night. The range between night and day could be anywhere from 30 to 100 degrees. He knew the chase could last anywhere from four hours to twenty four hours, but the end result would find Chris Larabee at Mary Winston's home. 'qqqRight where we want you,'xxx he thought.

Robert Maguire took a deep breath and looked at the sleeping man. The drug in his system would keep him asleep for another two hours. That was more than enough time to get into position. Larabee would wake up alone, with nothing but a canteen of water laced with a tasteless drug that would cause mild hallucinations. This way he knew his victim would be unable to think clearly. He knew his captive would have to drink the water, without it he'd die of dehydration. He turned his attention back to the road ahead. The white sands spread as far as the eye could see. Nothing but sand, hills of sand, unbroken by anything, a barren place yet beautiful in its harshness.

Four Corners-2002

The helicopter landed on the flat ground half a mile from the abandoned town. The pilot would wait for them there, while they walked through Four Corners. Josiah and Nathan reached for the canteens and nodded to the pilot as they hurried towards the buildings. It didn't take long for the two men to reach the town and they saw the yellow police tape surrounding the area. A lone officer was there and he walked out to meet them.

"Josiah Sanchez," the ex-preacher introduced himself and nodded towards his companion. "Nathan Jackson. Captain Parker said we could have a look around."

"Joe Moye. Captain Parker told me you'd be coming. Follow me," the officer said and led them towards the old newspaper building. "There were some old clippings in there. I think your friends were probably looking at them. The captain said to tell you they'll be at the station if you want to take a look at them."

"Thanks, Joe," Sanchez said as they entered the old building.

"If you boys are okay I'm gonna finish my lunch."

"We're fine. Thanks for the help," Jackson told him. He watched Moye walk across the street and step into the shaded area. He looked back at his friend and frowned at the faraway look on his face. He followed the older man's gaze and frowned as his eyes lit on two buildings at the edge of town. "Josiah?"

"Nathan, There's something strange going on here."

Jackson shivered as he looked up and down the street. "I know what you mean. It's like deja vu."

"I don't think deja vu is the right term. It's almost like coming home, but not my home."

"I think you're right, Josiah. I keep getting the feeling that it was destiny that brought us here."

"Yes. Destiny, but whose and why. If we can find that out we might just find the lead we need to find Chris."

"Well, I guess we'd better get started."

"Yeah," Sanchez agreed tearing his eyes from the broken down building at the edge of town. He knew in his heart this place was once a church and he wondered why it seemed to be calling out to him. Shaking off the cobwebs surrounding his mind he followed Jackson into the newspaper building.

Black Rock Desert-2002

He licked his lips and frowned as he had to force his tongue past them. He couldn't understand why he felt so hot, heat radiated all around him, above, beside and over him. He felt as if an open furnace surrounded him. He was lying on his back on something hard, but couldn't understand what it was. He opened his eyes, but the bright sunshine forced them shut once more. He waited a few minutes and finally turned onto his stomach. His head pounded and he reached up to touch the area, finding a painful lump at the base of his skull. He lifted his head and forced his eyes open once more. He groaned as his stomach churned and fought back the sickness. Five long agonizing minutes later he was sitting up, his back resting against a hard surface, but he couldn't tell what it was. He sucked in breath after breath, the heated air burning its way into his lungs until the dizziness left him. He turned towards the two items sitting beside him. He reached for the canteen and pulled open the lid, surprised to find it full. He lifted the canteen to his mouth and let the soothing moisture flow into his mouth. He swished the tepid liquid around before finally swallowing it. Again he turned his mind to remembering where he was and why he was there. The second item was a small handheld tape recorder and he finally picked it up. He pressed the play button and listened as the tape started forward.

"Hello, Christopher, if you're listening to this then the game has begun. What game you might ask? Well it's a game of cat and mouse, or should I say cats and mouse. You Christopher are the mouse and Mark and I are the cats. The object of this game is for you to get to help before we kill you. If you look around you will notice you're in a desert, but not just any desert. This is the Black Rock Desert and it is not a pleasant place to visit if you don't have the right equipment. You have been supplied with a canteen of water and the clothes you have on. I'm afraid we have the advantage in weapons, actually we have the only weapons. I know you probably don't feel like running right now, but we do have a little inspiration for you. I know we told you Vin Tanner is dead and he is, but if you make it you'll be able to have revenge on the man who killed him. If you die he goes free. It's that simple."

Larabee's eyes went glacial in spite of the pounding headache. "Vin, dead," he croaked into the still air. He listened as the voice droned on, anger seeping into every nerve ending, driving back the pain and opening his mind for what needed to be done.

"So, you have five more minutes to start running, Christopher. I'm not sure which way would be the best way for you to go as we've set you down in the middle of nowhere. There are some homes out here but they are few and far between. So, drink up, stand up and get moving."

The tape ended and Chris Larabee stood up, surveying the area around him. He swayed unsteadily for a few seconds before grabbing the canteen and throwing it over his shoulder. His stomach churned and he bent at the waist as he lost the small amount of water he'd managed to drink. He stood for a few more seconds, debating which way he should go. No matter where he looked it was hills of white sands stretching out as far as the eye could see. He rubbed his eyes, grimacing as sand found its way under his lids. Forcing them open again he was about to move south when a bullet kicked up the sand in front of his feet. He tried to gauge which direction it came from, but another one struck even closer. He turned to the west and started running, but again a bullet struck the ground in front of him and he had to change directions again.

qqq'They're herding me,xxx' he thought, but couldn't dwell on it as more bullets pinged all around him. He ran, changing directions each time a one hit in front of him. He topped a small hill and slid down the other side, crying out as his head pounded with renewed force. He dragged himself as close to the hill as possible and opened the canteen once more. He swallowed a small amount of the precious substance, knowing he'd need to conserve it if he was to have any chance of making it out of there alive. He recapped the canteen and tried to catch his breath. Chris squinted his eyes and forced his body to obey his commands. He stood up and ran, this time ignoring the shots at his feet. qqq'Can't let them herd me like I'm some Godamned cow,' xxxhe thought. The bullets continued to come closer, but he ran onwards ignoring the spray of sand until one finally found its mark and he tumbled to the ground, panting in pain and exhaustion. He was not and never would be a quitter, but for now he stayed where he was, fighting against the burning agony cause by the bullet and the nausea building in his stomach. He closed his eyes, telling himself it would only be for a couple of minutes and didn't hear the two men hurrying towards him.

Maguire picked up the canteen and shook it as Winston knelt beside the unconscious man. He knew the small amount of LSD mixed in with the water was doing the job he wanted. He knew exactly what to expect from the hallucinogenic drug, even in its diluted state. His other victims had been the guinea pigs until he now had the formula down pat. He placed the canteen back on the ground and smiled as he watched his friend check over the unconscious man.

Winston checked the wound on Larabee's left shoulder and smiled. His accuracy with a rifle was excellent and the groove running along the blond's upper arm wasn't bad, but would hurt like a son of a bitch. He looked up at his friend as he tied a piece of cloth around the wound. "He's fine," he said.

"Good," Maguire said as the blond showed signs of coming to. "Get back to your position and let's get him moving again."

Winston smiled as he stood up and moved away from the awakening man. Twilight was closing in and he knew darkness wouldn't be far behind it. They'd need to make sure Larabee continued in the direction they wanted him to go in spite of his stubbornness to go the other way. He wondered how many flesh wounds he'd have to inflict to get his point across to the injured man.

Maguire watched as Winston moved away and he hurried in the other direction. He knew he wasn't as good a shot as his friend, but he could use the rifle to keep Larabee moving along. He backed away just as the downed man turned onto his back and reached for the canteen.

Albuquerque - 2002

Ezra sat beside the bed holding Vin Tanner, watching the steady rise and fall of the sharpshooter's chest as he fingered the card in his hand. Each time he looked at the faded ace he felt something stir inside him, something beyond reasoning and yet he believed this was a message from the past. For what and for whom he didn't know, but he was sure the man lying silently in the bed would know the answer.

Buck and JD had finally gone for something to eat, but not without a promise that if Vin woke up he'd come get them. He took a deep breath, put the card back in his pocket, and looked out the window as twilight pushed lengthy shadows across the room. He reached for the switch over Tanner's bed and turned on the light. The gambler sat back in the chair and rubbed his lower back, wondering why all hospitals seemed to have the same uncomfortable chairs. He reached out with his right hand and placed it on the pale man's shoulder before speaking.

"Well, Mr. Tanner, it seems we're going to have to find some of that stubborn patience you always seem to have." He smiled as he realized patience was not normally one of this man's traits, except when he was losing himself in his job. "You know when you're hiding in one of those small places to make a seemingly impossible shot you do show remarkable patience? The way you just sit there, unmoving, except to take a breath or reposition yourself for a better angle is an amazing feat. Right now though, we need you to wake up and help us find our missing leader. It's been nearly two days since they brought you in here, Vin. It's time to open your eyes and tell us everything is alright with you. Show us that the bullet didn't scramble anything inside you're head." He shook his head as the only answer were the beeps and clicks from the machines monitoring his friend's vital signs. He sank back in the hard plastic chair and waited for the others to return.

Black Rock Desert-2002

Chris knew he wasn't unconscious very long and reached for the canteen. Before his fingers closed over the strap he noticed the makeshift bandage on his arm and struggled to remember putting it there. He fingered the knotted cloth and winced as he saw the blood seeping through it.

"Shit!" he hissed. "What the fuck is going on?" he picked up the canteen, needing to ease the thirst running through his body. He lifted it to his mouth and swallowed a small amount. He knew it wasn't enough, but he hoped he'd be able to keep it down. A sound to his right made him freeze and he slowly turned his head. He gasped at the sight before him. An impossibly large rattlesnake, poised to strike met his gaze. Part of his mind realized rattlesnakes could not be this big. Chris didn't have time to debate the issue as the snake grew larger before his eyes. The mouth opened and he gasped as the tongue seemed to slither out and lick it's lips in anticipation. Larabee looked at the canteen in his hand and suddenly made a connection between the water and the things he was seeing. His attention returned to the snake and he squinted his eyes. It seemed the impossible was happening as the head swayed back and forth hypnotically, entrancing him in its beguiling gaze. His hand reached out to touch it just as a shot sounded and the impossibly large head exploded before his eyes. He cried out as the snake's remains sprayed across him.

He breathed deeply for a few minutes, hoping the world would stop spinning long enough for him to stand up and get moving. One thought was clear in his mind. There was one name feeding his need to avenge the death of Vin Tanner. Robert Maguire would pay for the tracker's death. How and where, he didn't know, but it was a vow he would keep or die trying. He stood up and picked up the canteen. The world around him became a shifting landscape of impossible nightmare images. Again his eyes were drawn to the canteen and he knew this was where those images stemmed from. With a disgusted curse he flung the canteen away from him and screamed.

"I'm not that fucking easy to kill, Maguire!" He hissed as pain lanced through his skull, but smiled as it seemed to clear his head for a few seconds. He turned to the right and vomited the remainder of what was in his stomach.

Maguire smiled as he heard Larabee's vow, this was going better than he'd ever thought. None of his other victims had realized the water they were given was drugged, but this man had known almost instantly what was happening. He was close enough to see the snake and the blond's reaction to it and knew the drug was contributing to whatever Larabee was seeing. "I'm hoping you're not, Christopher," he whispered as the sky gave way to a vibrant sunset.

Winston knew Maguire did not want Larabee dead and as he watched the man's hand reach out towards the snake he acted instinctively. The shot was true and the snake's head exploded. He smiled as Larabee moved away from the dead reptile. He watched as the injured man stood up and threw away the canteen of drugged water. A small part of the cat began to admire the mouse he was chasing.

Chris stumbled along as twilight descended over the landscape. He lost track of how many times he fell, or had to strain his eyes to see past the nightmare images taunting him. A shadow seemed to move towards him, but he cringed and turned the other way. Animals that could not exist snarled at him from behind rocks, their sharpened claws reaching out to shred his flesh and leave it hangin from his body. His hands would move to the area where the claws had sunk in only to find the skin still intact. He forced his legs to carry him, one step at a time he moved, not realizing he was still being herded.

He tripped and rolled down another hill where he waited a few minutes before sitting up and doing an inventory of his own body. Nothing was broken, but every part of him ached. He closed his eyes and felt his mind wandering and frowned as a familiar voice broke through the lethargy invading his body. Twilight had long since given way to darkness, but the bright moon and the expanding blanket of stars was enough to illuminate his surroundings.

'Chris.'

His name sounded as if it came from a distance and was carried by the wind. He sat up and looked around, surprised to see a lone figure on horseback. Something about the lean form was refreshing and he realized he was seeing his best friend. "V...Vin," he croaked tiredly.

'You need to get up and start moving, Cowboy. Your friends need you to stay alive for them.'

"My friends?" Chris wondered why the sharpshooter wouldn't come any closer to him and seemed to stay just beyond his ability to make out features.

'Vin, Buck, Josiah, Nathan, Ezra and JD are all waiting for you.'

Larabee shook his head tiredly. "Can't be. Vin's dead otherwise I wouldn't be seeing you now."

'Your Vin is still alive. He needs you as much as I needed my Chris. Stay strong, Chris, and know your friends will come for you.'

Chris watched as the figure seemed to meld with the black backdrop and finally disappeared. He knew the same thing that caused him to see the shifting shapes in the harsh landscape around him probably brought on the apparition. Taking a deep breath he realized it didn't matter, nothing mattered, except killing the men responsible for Vin Tanner's death. He forced his way to his knees, then pushed up on his feet and staggered forward once more. Every now and then a gunshot would sound and he didn't even notice he'd made a change in direction once more.

Part 6

Albuquerque-2002

Vin heard voices, but none of them made any sense. The pain in his shoulder was bearable, but the agony that ripped through his skull every time he tried to open his eyes was too much. Each time he fought to waken the throbbing would escalate until he sank back into the beckoning softness of sleep.

Buck watched as a grimace came over the pale features and reached out to touch the injured man. "Hey, Vin, don't you think it's time you woke up? Come on, Pard, we need to know you're alright in there. That you're still you. The doc keeps saying the longer you remain unconscious the bigger the possibility is that there's something wrong. I ain't ready to let you go, Vin. None of us are, so get that sorry assed Texan stubbornness working and open your eyes." He knew visiting hours were over long before, but they'd been given special permission to stay with Tanner as long as they stayed out of the hospital staff's way. He turned towards the door as it opened and the four men walked in.

"Any change, Buck?" Sanchez asked.

"No. I thought he was waking up a minute ago, but I guess I was wrong. Did you find anything?"

"Nothing much," Jackson answered as he moved closer to the bed.

"Did Ezra show you boys the card the nurse gave him?"

"Yeah, he did," Sanchez answered. "This whole thing seems to have an air of mystery surrounding it. JD told us about your similar dreams and Nathan and I had strange sensations in Four Corners. There's something happening here and I think we'll find that whatever it is will help us find Chris."

"I get the same feeling, Josiah," Wilmington answered. "I just hope it won't be too late for him."

"It won't be, Buck, I think we're going to have to put normal thinking aside and see where these dreams and signs are leading us," Sanchez explained.

"Captain Parker has agreed to let us see the evidence they found at the scene. He says there isn't much except a couple of old newspaper clippings," Jackson told them.

"Old newspaper clippings?" the ladies man asked. "What the hell does that have to do with Chris and Vin?"

"Right now, Buck, I don't know for sure, but the way things are going we just might be surprised," Sanchez said seriously. "I told Captain Parker you and I would be at his office at eight tomorrow morning to look at them. That gives us a few hours to catch some sleep." He knew the look on Wilmington's face, the one that said he was staying and held up his hands to stop him. "Look, Buck, we'd all like to stay with Vin, but he'd be angry if we didn't do everything we could to find Chris. We need to stay sharp and in order to do that we need to catch some shuteye. Ezra, JD, and Nathan will stay here and keep vigil over Vin. They'll call if something happens."

Wilmington looked at the ex-preacher, a look of utter defeat on his face. He knew Sanchez was right, but it didn't make it any easier. He stood up and stretched the kinks out of his back before placing a hand on Tanner's bare shoulder. "You better be here when I get back, Pard," he warned before he left the room.

Josiah knew the ladies' man needed a few minutes to compose himself. He waited a short period, said a silent prayer for the injured man and their missing leader before joining Wilmington at the elevators.

'Stay alive, Chris,' Buck thought as they headed for the rented hotel rooms.

Black Rock Desert 2002

Chris couldn't remember ever being so tired or so cold. The heat of the day had given way to the cold of nighttime in the desert. His throat was dry and he wished again for water. He regretted throwing the canteen away and couldn't quite remember why he'd done so. He swore at his own stupidity for giving up something his body craved, but knew it was too late.

Winston watched as the 'mouse' moved slowly towards his hiding place. He smiled as he realized the drug was still affecting him, although he seemed to be able to think more clearly.

Chris continued to move through the white sands and noticed movement to his left. His eyes were still slightly unfocused, but he made out a dark shadow against the star sprinkled skyline. He kept his eyes forward, ignoring the pain in his head and shoulder, moving closer to the shadowy form of a man. There was little doubt in his mind that this was one of the ones responsible for the murder of Vin Tanner and he would pay for that transgression. He felt a smile forming on his face at the thought of what he was about to do. He staggered, part of the movement real, part of it for show as he stumbled closer to the shadow. He knew the drug was still affecting him, but it seemed to be losing some of its potency.

Winston almost laughed at the drunken gait of the 'mouse'. His own face wore a Cheshire catlike grin as he watched Larabee stumble towards him. Too late he realized the 'mouse' had suddenly become the hunter and the 'cat' the prey.

Chris knew the time had come. It was now or never as he hurled his body at the shadow. A muffled grunt of pain rewarded his efforts as he followed the shadow to the ground.

Winston felt the air forced from his lungs as if a battering ram was shoved into his gut. He lost his grip on the rifle and heard it land somewhere behind him. He gasped and tried to roll free of the snarling Cougar Larabee had become. He shoved against the wild 'cat' even as a fist drove into his stomach.

Chris knew he couldn't let up. He knew there was another man out there and he needed to even the odds before it was too late. All rational thought left him as he fought with everything he'd learned. His Navy SEAL training took over and he used moves he'd thought long since forgotten. He used his fingers to gouge his enemy's eyes, smiling as a sharp cry of pain left the man's throbbing throat.

Winston couldn't believe the ferocity of the attack. There was something in the eyes glaring down at him. They glowed with reckless abandonment as the moon shone into them. He struck out, hitting the man, trying to dislodge him even as the blond wrapped his hands around his throat. 'No!' he gasped as his air supply was cut off. He brought his knee up into Larabee's groin and was rewarded when the tight grip loosened and a hiss of pain came from the slack lips.

"I...I'll fuckin' kill y...you," Larabee hissed as visions of Vin Tanner's bloodied body assaulted his mind. "Fu...fucked w...with the wr...wrong man," he said as he ignored the throbbing in his groin and tightened his grip once more. He could feel his hated enemy weakening and a feral grin formed on his face. "Y...you'll die for w...what you did to Vin Tanner."

Winston knew he was dying and tried one last move to dislodge Larabee. He lifted his arms and struck both sides of the blond head, praying it would be enough. He felt the hands loosen and heard a sharp gasp of pain as the body fell off him.

Pain exploded inside his skull as something struck him on both sides of his head. Chris knew he had to move or he would die here and now. He struggled to his knees and knew his nemesis was doing the same thing. The moon reflected off something in his enemy's hand and he knew he was seeing a knife.

The two men made it to their feet at the same instant and began circling each other. Chris tried to keep his attention on the shifting shadow in front of him, but his eyes refused to focus. He blinked rapidly and moved out of the way as the blade struck out at him.

Winston forced air through his damaged throat and grinned as he realized he was again the 'cat' and Larabee the 'mouse'. "I'm gonna make you bleed, Larabee!" His voice was haggard as he forced it past trembling lips.

"N..not fuckin' likely!" The blond snarled with more confidence than he actually felt. Again he dodged to the right as the blade came towards him once more. His right hand shot out and he grasped his foe's left wrist in a grip of steel. He knew he had to kill this man before his own body betrayed him. He twisted the wrist and groaned as pain shot through his wounded shoulder. He ignored everything around him, his own life hinging on his ability to draw on his rapidly dwindling reserves. With a quick move he forced the knife hand downwards and at the same time shoved his own body into a forward thrust. He heard a gasp of pain as the knife touched up against the other man's body and sank into his belly. Chris released his hold and watched as the body stood for several seconds before toppling forward. He didn't have a chance to relish his victory as bullets kicked up the ground all around him. He forced his mind to ignore the pain and exhaustion warring for control of his body and once more became the mouse to Robert Maguire's cat. He ran, stumbled, fell, and even crawled when he needed to.

+ + + + + + +

Maguire swore as he stood over his dead friend's body. This was something he hadn't foreseen, but realized it was once more part of his destiny. His great, great grandfather had been alone when he'd finally captured Chris Larabee and now it looked as if things were mirroring the past once more. He would keep his 'mouse' moving towards the Winston home. Once here he would kill the woman and begin his quest for dominance over the blond haired man.

"You were never meant to be part of this, Mark," he said as he closed the man's unseeing eyes. He quickly pulled the bloodied knife from Winston's body and wiped it on the man's shirt. "I will use your knife to extract a small amount of revenge for you, My Friend," he vowed. Thankful for the bright moon and stars overhead, he followed the stumbling shadow.

+ + + + + + +

Mary Winston knew they'd be coming soon and vowed to help whoever this new victim was. She knew in her heart it wouldn't absolve her guilt in the other murders, but she could feel some of her soul returning to her. She smiled as she picked up the small phone her husband's nephew had given her in case of emergencies. It was a gift she'd seldom used but right now it was a gift she would use to save a man's life. She walked to the door and opened it as she pressed the numbers that would connect her to the police department. A sound to her right distracted her and she gasped at the stumbling figure coming towards her. The sun was just coming over the horizon and heralded another day of high temperatures and near scorching sunshine.

"Oh, God," she cried as she placed the phone on the railing and hurried towards him. She grabbed his arm and heard him gasp.

Larabee looked at her and frowned as his trembling legs threatened to give way. The incessant ringing in his ears made it impossible for him to understand what she was saying, but he was grateful for her help.

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "God, I'm so sorry!" she pulled him towards the house.

"P...phone?" The word came out as a pleaded question as they made it to the porch. He knew he didn't have much time before the second man caught up to him. He hated putting the woman in danger, but he needed help and she was the only one around.

She eased him to the lone wooden chair on the battered porch and reached for the phone.

Chris saw the tiny instrument and reached out with bloodied fingers to take it from her. His hand trembled as he took it from her wrinkled fingers. He fought his swirling vision, unable to see the numbers. "C...can you do it?" he asked hopefully.

"What number?" she asked and gazed around the still empty front yard.

Chris tried to think who he should contact. The only one that came to mind was Josiah Sanchez. He told her the number and leaned heavily into the chair as his thirst grew more insistent.

"It's ringing," she told him and handed him the phone. She hurried into the house and grabbed a glass of cold water for him.

Chris held the phone to his ear and kept his eyes closed. His hope turned to despair as he was transferred to Sanchez's automated answering service. He waited for the tone before speaking quickly. "Josiah, h...help..." he looked up as the woman returned with a glass of water. "Wh...where is th...this?" he asked confusion written on his face. He took the glass and gratefully swallowed a mouthful of cold water.

"Nevada, north of Reno. Black Rock Desert..." she gasped as pain flared in her chest and blood stained her white blouse.

Chris was on his feet instantly, the phone still held to his ear. He knew she was dead even as he watched the blood seeping from her mouth. He swallowed painfully and spoke rapidly, knowing he didn't have much time. "North of R...Reno, Black Rrr...ock..." He cried out as something struck him in the lower back, the phone flying from his hand as he sank to his knees. He fought to stay upright as a man moved in front of him and blocked out the blinding sun. The struggle to stay on his knees was too much and he fell on his side.

"Hello, Christopher, so glad you finally made it," Maguire smiled as he stood over the battered blond. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle and a clean rag. He held it away from his face as he poured a small amount of the chloroform onto the cloth. He knelt before Larabee and saw the fight still in the man's eyes. "I knew this would be fun," he said as he struck his victim's hands and placed the cloth over his mouth and nose.

Chris pushed at the hand, but to no avail. His body, weakened by the drug, lack of water, and the beating he'd taken over the last few days, refused to obey his commands. He tried to pry the cloth from his face as he held his breath. The fumes seeped through and he trembled as the effects of the chloroform spread through his body. His lungs craved the oxygen they needed and he had little choice but to take a breath.

Maguire watched as his victim inhaled the chloroform and his struggles grew weaker. He smiled as Larabee took a deep breath and his eyes rolled back in his head as he sank into the welcoming arms of sleep. He waited a few more seconds to make sure his victim was really out before removing the cloth. He patted Larabee's shoulder and turned his attention to the woman lying on the ground. The open, sightless eyes told him all he needed to know. He grabbed her under the shoulders, dragged her towards the ruined barn, and left her body lying just inside the door. With one final look at the dead woman he turned his attention to what needed to be done. He knew Larabee would be out for a couple of hours and that gave him the time he needed to get him ready.

The older man hurried to the entrance to the mine and pulled open the makeshift covering of boards Mark Winston placed there after the first victim died in the chamber. He knew there was a table to the right of the entrance and reached for the flashlight he knew would be there. He flipped the switch and the high-powered light cut a path through the darkened interior. He brushed past the cobwebs and knew the old woman had not been inside the mine since they'd last closed it up. He swore as he realized he'd have to prepare things himself. He quickly followed the short tunnel until it opened onto a vast cavern and smiled as the screams of his long dead victims seemed to echo through the empty chamber. He took a deep breath of damp air and moved towards the center. The chamber was five feet high at the outer edges and reached as high as ten feet in others. A tunnel to his left ran deeper into the main part of the mine, but it had collapsed long ago. He smiled as he looked at the beam overhead, knowing this was something he added to the cavern.

This was where his sense of control made his head spin. It was where Larabee would find out just what hell really was. He placed the flashlight on the ground and quickly lit the four lanterns placed in each corner of the almost square chamber. He reached up and tugged at the chains wrapped around the beam and smiled as they held tight. He walked to the back of the cave to the spot where the chain ended. A hand held crank would enable him to lower the chains and make it easy to attach them to the unconscious man. He placed his hands on the crank and tried to turn it, cursing as the lever stayed in place. He looked around until his eyes fell on the dirt covered can of WD40 sitting on a wooden shelf. He quickly reached for it and sprayed it over the wheels until it dripped onto the ground. He reached for the crank once more and pushed down with all his strength. He felt it give a little and once more put his weight into it, wishing Mark Winston was still with him. 'Christopher Larabee will pay, Mark,' he thought as a screech came from the clogged gears and the wheels began to turn slowly. He watched as the chains lowered to the ground and stopped when the clanking sound told him it was ready.

Maguire stood up and rubbed at his lower back, knowing the kinks he felt there were only a minor inconvenience for him. He walked back to the center of the chamber and removed the manacles from the main chain. He hurried out of the mine, blinking rapidly until his eyes adjusted to the harsh sunlight. Larabee was where he left him, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. He was blissfully unaware of the madman coming towards him, and the plans he had for him.

He reached the prone figure and knelt beside him, smiling as he stroked a finger along the firm jaw and slack features. The dirt did little to hide the bruises and scratches on the handsome face and he felt a heady excitement at holding this strong man's future in his hands. He placed the manacles on Larabee's wrists and tested them to make sure they were tight. Once he was sure they would hold, he stood up and lifted his victim's shoulders.

Robert Maguire was proud of his body and worked hard to maintain his strength. He easily lifted the man from the boards and placed him in the chair. He watched the face to make sure Larabee was still unconscious before hefting him over his shoulders. He staggered slightly under the weight, but easily righted himself. Taking a deep breath he headed back to the mine with his prisoner resting over his right shoulder. Once he reached the entrance he placed Larabee on the ground and grabbed him under the arms. He dragged his victim through the short tunnel and into the main area of the shaft. He stropped at the center and reached for the chain, attaching and locking it to the manacles encircling the blond's wrists. He moved to the crank and slowly turned the lever until there was no slack in the chains. He continued to turn it until the unconscious man was pulled up by his hands. He put more effort into it as the heavier part of the body slowly lifted off the ground. He worked diligently until Chris Larabee was standing upright in the center of the chamber, his feet barely touching the floor of the mine. He locked the crank, smiled as he released the lever, and knew things were nearly ready.

Once more Maguire walked to the center of the chamber. He removed Larabee's boots and socks and attached a set of manacles to his ankles before locking them to the links embedded in the floor of the mine. He stood up and smiled as he realized his victim was now helpless. There was just one more thing to be done before he left him alone and completed preparing for the next step in his plans. He took Mark Winston's knife from his pocket and opened it. Slowly, methodically he cut the khaki pants and shirt from Larabee's body.

"I'll leave you a little dignity, Christopher," he told the sleeping man as left the dark underwear covering the blond's groin area. Once more he stood back and surveyed his handiwork. His victim was ready, all that was needed were his instruments and for Chris Larabee to wake up. "Soon, Christopher, very soon!" He turned and left the chamber knowing the next time he returned the games would begin. Games he'd been playing all his adult life. He remembered playing them as a child, but with animal victims instead of humans. The human variety was much more satisfying to the madman's need for control and he knew this man's death would be his coup de grace!

Albuquerque-2002

Sanchez and Wilmington sat in Jerome Parker's office, waiting for the man to finish his phone conversation. The evidence folder rested on the desk before the police captain and they were anxious to see what it contained.

"All right, just keep me informed," Parker said before replacing the phone in its cradle. "Sorry about that, but I need the information for another case," he explained to the two men sitting across from him.

"It's okay, Captain, we understand completely," Sanchez assured him.

Parker opened the file on his desk and looked at what it contained, there was very little in it and he slid it across his desk. "This is all we found at the crime site. I'm not even sure it has anything to do with what happened to your friends, but it seems too much of a coincidence to me."

Wilmington watched as Sanchez examined the newspaper clippings. "Coincidence?" he asked.

"The names of the victims and those mentioned in the old article," Parker answered.

Before Wilmington could ask him to explain, Sanchez's soft voice stopped him. "Buck?"

"Josiah, what's wrong?" Wilmington knew by the ex-preacher's tone he'd found another mystery that would either help or distort Larabee's disappearance and Tanner's being shot.

"Read this," Sanchez ordered and passed the plastic covered article to Wilmington.

Buck took the article and began to read. His eyes widened as they were drawn to the two familiar names it contained. He forced himself to breath as he met Sanchez' gaze. "How can this be?"

"If I remember correctly, Chris once told us he had an ancestor who was a lawman in Four Corners. I think this also tells us why Chris and Vin seemed to connect the minute they met. You know yourself there's something strange going on here."

"Y...yeah, b...but this. I mean..."

"There's more, Buck, names and events. Too many things seem to parallel today's events. I mean look at what happened. Chris Larabee disappeared..."

"Yeah, but it doesn't say anything about Vin being shot..." he stopped as he realized Parker was frowning at them.

"Would you mind telling me what you're talking about?" Parker asked.

Wilmington stifled a laugh as he looked at the captain. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you, Captain."

"If it's pertinent to this investigation then it doesn't matter whether I believe it or not."

"Right now I'm not sure if it's pertinent or not, Captain. Its just some strange things have been happening since Chris and Vin left Billings. Nothing solid, mostly just dreams and things we can't explain. If we do come up with anything we'll let you know right away," Sanchez assured him.

"Make sure you do," Parker said as he watched a silent signal pass between the two men.

"We will, Captain," Wilmington promised. "Is there any way we can get copies of the clippings?"

"I can't see why not. I was asked to help you in any way I can. If you'll wait here I'll have copies made for you."

"Thank you," Josiah said as the policemen picked up the items and walked out of his office.

"Josiah, I don't pretend to understand anything that's going on, but I do know we need to find Chris."

"I agree, Buck. The strange things that are happening seem to be happening around all of us, but centered around Chris and Vin. Nathan and my own reaction in Four Corners, feeling drawn to the old Church and Nathan to the livery. Ezra and the ace of spades. You know I'd love to find out if Maude's deck is complete or if she's missing that particular card. You and JD having the same type of dream with Chris and Vin being followed by seven men, yet you can't see who they are."

"Josiah, I have a strange feeling I do know who they are," Wilmington said softly. He saw the ex-preacher's eyebrows rise and continued. "I think the article made it clear. The men JD and I see in our dreams are..." he stopped, unable to voice his thoughts.

"Seven men from our past. Our ancestors showing up to warn us."

"Yeah, that's just the feeling I get."

"Buck, I think you're closer to the truth than any of us understand. If Ezra was here I'd ask him what the odds are that each of us had a relative living in Four Corners at the same time those articles were written."

Parker returned to the office and handed the photocopies over to the two men. He sat behind his desk once more and looked at both them. "I know how much you guys want to find Larabee, but try to stay out of trouble. One man missing and one in the hospital is enough for us to handle right now."

"We'll do our best, Captain," Sanchez said as they shook hands and left the office.

+ + + + + + +

By the time they reached the hospital the others were there as well. The five men made a protective circle around the injured man and Josiah handed each of them an article. The silence in the room was deafening in light of the contents of the clippings they held. Papers were passed from one person to the next as each man read the faded print from long ago. It was hard to grasp what they were reading, yet the evidence couldn't be denied. Somehow seven men had met and formed a team in 1872 and years later their children's, children's, children had done the same. If destiny could be proven it was happening here, in this room as five members of the firm silently stared at the paper in their hands.

Four sets of eyes turned to the ex-preacher and he felt the weight of the discovery placed on his shoulders. He took a deep breath, fingered the small cross on his neck, stood up and walked to the window. He knew they were waiting for him to shed some light on what was happening, but there seemed little he could say. He was as surprised as they were at the strange happenings. He looked out into the bright sunlight and sighed heavily before turning to the four men.

"I'm sure you all realize I don't know anymore than you do..."

"But you have some idea of what's going on, don't you?" Dunne asked.

"I have a theory..."

"Let's hear it," Wilmington urged.

"I think the evidence is pretty clear that our ancestors were part of the seven peacekeepers known around Four Corners as The Magnificent Seven. I find it strange that none of us have ever realized it before. I do think Chris and Vin might have subconsciously known and that's why it appeared as if they knew each other before they ever met. I mean we all know those two seemed to connect with just a simple nod of the head."

"Yeah, they did at that," Jackson observed.

"Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner did appear to connect on a different level than the rest of us," Standish told them.

"Exactly. Anyway I believe there was a reason why none of us realized our similar backgrounds until now. Something tells me that destiny and fate have both had a hand in this. I think Chris and Vin were meant to go to Four Corners at this time. I think Buck and JD's dreams were meant as warning of what was to come. Nathan and my experience in Four Corners was proof that things happened there many years ago and somehow they are being paralleled in our time. One of the articles mentioned Chris Larabee was kidnapped in the month of July by a man named," he picked up the article and read the name aloud. "Robert Maguire. It seems to me that everything is coming to a head here and now. Buck and JD both dreaming of seven men. Me and Nathan in Four Corners," he turned to Standish. "Ezra, have you ever looked at your mother's old deck of cards."

"When I was younger I found them in her boudoir. They were on her dresser and I wanted to see them. She'd never let a child handle them and I was in a rebellious frame of mind that day."

"You, Ezra?" Wilmington teased.

"Me, Mr. Wilmington," Standish answered affirmatively. "Anyway I took the cards out and tried to shuffle them, but they were too ragged and wouldn't work. I had a devil of a time fitting them back into the case before Mother returned. Why do you ask, Mr. Sanchez?"

"Did you happen to notice if any of the cards were missing?"

All eyes turned towards the gambler as he thought about the question. The incident he was talking about happened over twenty years ago and he tried to remember what if anything was missing. He could picture fanning the cards out one by one, the dog-eared edges catching in his fingers. One by one the cards were displayed before his closed eyes until the last of the spades were before him. His eyes opened wide and he reached into his pocket, pulling out the card he kept there.

"Ezra?" Sanchez asked.

"Josiah, this...I...I can't ..I don't...it couldn't be."

"What, Ez?" Jackson asked, worried as he watched Standish grow pale before his eyes.

"This. The Ace of Spades was missing from Mother's deck."

"I thought so when you mentioned it earlier."

"Josiah, h...how did you know?" Standish asked, sinking into the chair beside Vin's bed.

"It just seemed like it had to tie in to everything else that's happening. That card is a key to something."

"But what?" Dunne asked.

"I'm not sure," Sanchez answered.

"Maybe I know," Standish explained. He turned away from the others and looked at the injured man. He lifted Tanner's left arm and spread the lax fingers. He placed the card in it and closed his own hand over the unmoving hand.

"Oh my, God!" Dunne gasped as the injured man moaned and his eyelids began to flutter.

+ + + + + + +

Chris couldn't remember drinking , but his head felt as if it was filled with cotton and he was suffering the worst hangover he had in years. His body ached in places he couldn't remember ever hurting before. A soft moan eased past his lips as he struggled to remember why he felt so lousy. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture in his mouth and his tongue felt thick. His back ached and he felt the need for relief in his bladder. He eased upwards and cried out as the pressure on his arms eased slightly and needles and pins stabbed into his extremities. He suddenly realized he was cold and wondered what he'd done with his clothing. 'Hell of a dream, Larabee,' he thought as he trembled violently.

"Welcome back, Christopher!"

The unfamiliar voice cut through the fog encompassing his mind and he struggled to come to grips with why he hurt so much and where he was. So far he hadn't been able to force his eyes open past a narrow slit. The light blinded him and caused daggers of pain in his head each time he tried. His stomach churned as if he'd been on a binge for weeks, yet he knew this was not the cause of his discomfort. He knew what it was like to get drunk, usually he enjoyed the experience, but not this time. He groaned as he forced his eyelids upwards, unaware that he was being watched, until he remembered the taunting voice.

"Come on, Christopher, I'm anxious to teach you the meaning of the words Lord and Master. Open your eyes and look at me."

Larabee ignored the voice until something clamped down on his left forearm and pinched the skin. He gasped and forced his eyes open, glaring at the man standing before him.

"That's better, Christopher. Now pay attention to what I say."

"Fuck you!" Larabee hissed as he pulled on the chains securing his arms to the ceiling.

Maguire grinned as he walked around his prisoner. "That's not exactly what I had in mind. There are some things that even I won't stoop to."

Chris could hear the man moving behind him and he tried to turn his head. Pain lanced through his shoulders as he twisted against his bonds, yet he couldn't stop searching for the man. He finally gave up and let his head drop to his chest for a few seconds, fighting back the nausea threatening to overcome him. He opened his eyes as he heard the man returning to stand in front of him.

"Now, Christopher, there are some things you need to realize. Number one-I am your master."

"Fuck you!"

Maguire tut-tutted as he circled the blond, his hands behind his back as he came to stand in front of Larabee once more. "Are those the only two words you know?" There was silence for a few seconds and Maguire watched his victim's eyes. He saw no fear in the green orbs, just anger, irrevocable anger that told him he would die if this man ever got free. Visions of Mark Winston's dead body came to mind and he was forced to hide his own fear. I asked you a question, Christopher, and I expect an answer." Silence met his words and he pulled his hands from behind his back.

Chris saw something then that caused a shiver to run through his body.

"Do you know what this is, Christopher? Never mind, don't bother answering. Have you ever been whipped? I know you have because I've seen the thin scars on your back. This is very similar to a whip except it's called a cane. It took me a long time to find the right one. Actually I've had this one for many years now, but for some reason I have not used it," he paused and stood in front of his victim once more. He took a deep breath and raised the three-foot long instrument over his shoulder. "Until now!" It descended with all the power Maguire could put into it and he smiled as a gasp escaped the surprised victim.

Chris held his breath as the stinging pain ran along the length of his chest. He looked down and saw the raised welt where the cane had struck his exposed skin.

"You will learn to bow to my will..."

"Who the fuck are y...you?" Larabee hissed as he waited for the burning in his chest to subside.

"I'm your natural master. The man who will make you beg for your own death," Maguire laughed as he let another blow fall on Larabee's chest. He walked around the struggling man and stopped behind him. "You will learn," he struck at the well-muscled thighs. "To bow to my will." Again he let fly, this time striking at the back of the knees, causing a gasp of pain from the bound figure.

"Bas...tard..." Larabee hissed as the cane came down on his shoulders.

"Oh, Christopher, I am not a bastard. I knew both my parents," he walked to the front, facing his victim once more. He lifted the cane and brought it down across the lean chest. Crisscrossing the first mark he'd left there. He met the steady gaze and saw the pain in the green eyes, yet again there was no fear. The man standing before him was stronger than anyone he'd ever seen. He'd surpassed any of the other victims at the game of cat and mouse and even managed to kill Mark Winston. He'd realized the water was drugged, survived the low dose of LSD it was tainted with and now he was cursing him in spite of the pain ravaging his body. He placed the cane on the table just out of reach of his prisoner. He reached up and traced the two lines on Larabee's chest with the index finger of his right hand. The center of the X seemed to mark the center of Larabee's chest. "I guess X really does mark the spot, for this is where I will bury Mark's knife when I am through with you. It is only fitting that you die with his favorite weapon since you killed him with it." He watched the eyes closely, hoping to see a hint of fear in the green depths, but all he saw was anger and the promise of his own death.

Chris watched as Maguire walked to the table and picked up a bottle of water. His tongue automatically licked at his too dry lips, but he forced down his body's craving for the life giving liquid. He remembered the last water this man supplied him with. He clenched his jaw tightly as Maguire stood in front of him. He knew instinctively what was in the water, the same thing that caused him to hallucinate and see his dead friend. His mind finally cut through the fog and he heard the hated words as they stabbed into the center of his being. 'Tanner's dead, Robert.' He closed his eyes as a vision of a smiling, blue eyed, Texan invaded his heart. He knew he'd never see the young man again and yet he was the only man he wanted to see right now.

"That will not do, Christopher. I'm afraid this is something you have to have whether you want it or not. It's part of the game."

"S...sick fuckin' game," the blond hissed as more memories ran rampant through his mind. He saw the young man in the oversized flannel shirt as he read the poem he'd written for his 'brother'. One verse in particular ran through his sorrow filled mind, a verse that gave him strength when he needed it. The words resounded in his mind in a soft Texan drawl he longed to hear.

'What I offer seems pale in return,
A vow that blood couldn't make stronger.
It's given with newfound pride and honor,
You are forever my brother, I am alone no longer.'

He felt the Texan's strength as he heard the words and swore he would not die without seeing this man pleading for his life.

"Christopher, I said that will not do!" Maguire slapped Larabee across the face and gripped a handful of sweaty blond hair. He saw the mouth clench tightly and knew he'd have to resort to force. He released the hair and drew his right fist back. He aimed for the dark bruise over his prisoner's right kidney and heard the gasp of pain as flesh met flesh. He quickly transferred the bottle to his right hand and pulled the head back. He grabbed Larabee's nose and squeezed tightly, cutting off his air supply and forcing the blond to open his mouth. He forced the water through the lips and swore as he met another obstacle. He released his hold on the nostril and struck the bruised kidney again, and felt the bottle slip past the teeth. He poured the water into the unwilling mouth, smiling as he watched the man swallow the liquid. He continued to hold it in place until he was sure enough of the LSD laced water was in the victim's stomach. He removed the bottle and placed his hand over the mouth, ensuring that the blond would swallow whatever remained there. He saw the Adam's apple working swiftly and smiled as he removed his hand. "I am your master in this and everything else, Christopher, and it would do you good to remember that."

"Fu...fuck y...you," Larabee hissed as his stomach churned and nausea forced bile up in his throat. He wished he would vomit, but his rebellious stomach chose this time to hold onto its contents.

Maguire watched the handsome face for a few minutes and was satisfied that the drug would stay in his victim's body. He replaced the cap on the bottle and turned back to the bound man. "I am going to leave you now, Christopher. I have a lot of work ahead of me and must eat to keep up my strength. I know you will enjoy your trip while I am away, but don't worry I will probably have a starring role in it." He reached up and once more ran his index finger along the raised welts. "Rest well," he laughed. "I know I will." He patted the bare right shoulder and left the well lit chamber.

Chris watched the hated man leave and tried to concentrate on the faces of the six men he called friends. He could feel the drug slowly creeping into his system and distorting everything around him. He cried out as shadows that should be still turned into grisly images intent on ripping into his bare flesh. A voice broke through his torment for a few seconds, one he prayed would keep him sane through the coming nightmares.

'Be strong, Chris, your friends will find you.'

Larabee watched as the strangely dressed image of Vin Tanner came out of the tunnel before him. His eyes widened as he saw something from an old horror movie fall into step behind his friend.

"VIN!" he screamed as the creature released elongated talons on distorted fingers. The face reminded him of a creature from a kiddie cartoon as it loomed over the unsuspecting sharpshooter. "NO!" Larabee's throaty scream echoed through the vast chamber, bouncing from one wall to another before dying down to nothing.

'It's not real, Chris.'

"D...dead...he k...killed y...you. N...now that thing..." He screamed again as the talons tore through the tracker's body, blood spraying in a warm wet pattern across his chest, legs and face. He watched as the body of his friend tumbled to the floor and sobs tore from his chest. Tears ran unchecked from his eyes, creating a clean line through the dirt and sand encrusted on his face.

"No, oh God, Vin, NO! Not like this! Not again!" He screamed as the creature dragged the body of Vin Tanner towards its lair. The dripping fangs shone red in the lantern light as the ragged hole of its mouth quaked with laughter. Chris Larabee's worst nightmare, one that he could never have imagined had just come true and many more would follow before the drug wore off.

Robert Maguire stood just outside the tunnel entrance, savoring the cries coming from the chamber. "Things will get much worse, Christopher," he vowed. "Much worse," he walked away from the mine entrance whistling an old tune and smiling at what lay ahead.

Albuquerque 2002

He felt something in his hand and a tingling sensation slowly ran the length of his arm. He moaned as he shifted on the bed, unaware of the five sets of eyes watching him in complete, awed silence. A soft sound left his mouth as he tried to find the moisture needed to form words. A hand on his shoulder told him he wasn't alone, but the heat flowing through his body made him feel like he was in hell.

"Come on, Son, open your eyes. You're safe now and in the hospital," Sanchez explained.

The words were said softly, but firmly and in a voice he knew he should recognize. He frowned and groaned as the motion pulled on the stitches in his head. He lifted his left arm, but found the hand clasped in a tight grip.

"Come on, Vin, we need you to wake up now. You've been sleeping long enough." Jackson said as he watched the handsome face marred by lines of pain.

"Mr. Tanner, we really need you to open your eyes," Standish said as he continued to hold the hand and the card in his grip.

"JD, go tell the nurse he's waking up!"

"Sure, Nathan," Dunne said and hurried from the room.

Vin forced his eyes open and looked at the worried faces surrounding his bed. He frowned as he searched for, but couldn't see two faces. He knew Nathan had told JD to go get the nurse, but he couldn't figure out where Chris Larabee was. "Na...Nathan," he coughed and groaned as the movement reawakened the pain in his shoulder.

Jackson reached for the glass of ice water on the table and held the straw to Tanner's mouth. He watched as the dry lips fought to make the straw work.

The straw stuck to his lips as he tried to find the energy to draw in the cold water. He sighed as the liquid finally entered his mouth, moistening his tongue, and gums before it slid down his throat and eased his body's craving for water. He turned away from the cup as the door opened and he saw JD hurry back in. A woman followed him in and hurried to the bed.

"Hello, Mr. Tanner, how do you feel?"

The sharpshooter swallowed with some difficulty as he continued to watch the five men. "I'm okay...C...Chris," he frowned as he searched the faces once more. "Wh...where's Chris?" he asked as the nurse checked his vitals. He watched each face as they turned away or cast their eyes in other directions. "Buck?"

"Vin, we...I mean...We were hoping..." Wilmington turned away unable to meet the worried blue gaze.

Tanner moved on the bed and tried to sit up. He swore as Standish and Sanchez forced him back on the bed. His blue eyes grew wide and glacial as he looked at the two men. "Wh...what the hell's goin' on? Wh..." he gasped and his left hand reached for the wound on his head as pain and memories warred for dominance over his body and mind. He moaned in spite of the soothing touch on his shoulder, cried out even as the pain medication entered his system. He heard voices around him, but couldn't acknowledge them. His mind was filled with the sight of Chris Larabee lying on a dusty street in the town of Four Corners.

"Easy, Vin," Jackson said as Frank Barnes entered the room.

"What's going on?" the doctor asked as he hurried to the bed and the five men moved out of his way.

"I'm not sure, Doctor," the nurse answered as she continued to check his vitals.

"C...Chris!" Tanner gasped and opened his eyes. He pushed the doctor's hands away and searched for his friends. He tried to sit up as he pleaded with them. "H...help him! God, M...Maguire," he cried out and dropped back to the pillow as pain lanced through his skull.

"Doc?" Wilmington asked worriedly as Tanner lay still on the bed.

"Just a minute!" Barnes told him as he examined the sharpshooter's eyes. He lifted the lids on both eyes and shone a light into them before turning to the five worried men. "He's okay."

"What happened?" Standish asked.

"From his reaction when I came in I'd say he remembered something that was a little too painful for him to face right now. He should be fine, but it's important that he rests. He's probably gonna suffer from headaches and dizziness as a result of the head injury and blood loss."

"He's gonna be okay though isn't he?" Dunne asked.

"He should be, but what you guys need to realize is that even though his CT scan was negative he did suffer a serious trauma to his head. He's got to give himself a chance to heal." He turned to the nurse and told her to let him know if anything else happened. He was on call and would be available if and when his patient needed him.

"I will, Doctor Barnes," she assured him as he left. She made a final check of her patient before turning to the five men. "Let him sleep," she said, a soft, reassuring smile on her face as she followed the doctor out of the room.

They moved close to the sleeping man once more and took positions around the bed.

"Did you boys catch the name Vin mentioned?" Wilmington asked.

"I think we all heard Mr. Tanner say Maguire," Standish said as he saw the look of disbelief on the faces of his friends.

"This just continues to get stranger," Dunne mumbled, the tremor in his voice showed how much this was affecting him.

"Maybe Vin was referring to the newspaper clipping?" Jackson said.

"Do you really believe that Nate?" Sanchez asked.

"No. I don't, but," and he shook his head as he walked to the window and looked out at the cars in the parking lot. "It's hard to come to terms with everything that's happening. It just doesn't seem possible that things that happened during our ancestor's time seem to be happening again here and now."

"But it is!" Dunne said softly as he looked at the card still clutched in Tanner's hand. He wondered how the sharpshooter managed to keep his grip on the card when he passed out.

"Yes it does seem that the impossible is taking place," Standish said as he touched the card once more.

"How did you know the card would wake him up, Ez?" Wilmington asked.

"I didn't, at least not for certain, but I knew it had to have been given to our Mr. Tanner for a reason."

"Everything seems to be happening for a reason," Sanchez whispered as he looked at the wall phone. Since Tanner's awakening he'd been drawn to the phone and couldn't grasp the reason for it. Something tugged at his senses as he sat in the chair beside the injured man's bed. He closed his eyes and tried to grasp what was troubling him about the past and Four Corners. He listened to the others talking as if from a distance until JD's voice brought him back to the present.

"Maybe we should check into Robert Maguire. I mean it seems like each one of us had an ancestor in Four Corners and everything that's happening seems to lead to that town."

"I think the kid's right. I've been trying to figure out why everything seems to have led up to those newspaper clippings," the ladies man explained. "Chris never showed any interest in Ghost towns before, but all of a sudden he got the urge to come to New Mexico and visit the home of his great, great Grandfather. He asks Vin to accompany him and they find those clippings with both their names in it, sorry ancestors names in it. They find those clipping and it seems like all hell broke loose. I mean Vin is shot and left out there to die and Chris is missing with all the signs pointing to him having been kidnapped." He stood up and paced the room, the fingers of his right hand worrying at his moustache as he thought about the events leading up to this moment in time. "If we believe everything that's happened so far then we've got to check into everything. That includes Maguire having a great, great grandson who just may be trying to do what his great, great grandfather couldn't and that's..."

"Make Chris Larabee one of his victims," Sanchez finished solemnly.

"Exactly," Buck whispered. "So we let JD check into Maguire..."

"Robert Maguire," Jackson told him.

Buck nodded and continued. "JD checks into Robert Maguire and if we...when we find him, we'll probably find Chris."

"I do believe it would be prudent to find Mr. Larabee as quickly as possible. If the details of those clippings are correct he will be in dire need of our assistance."

"You're right, Ez. I have a feeling Chris is at the mercy of a madman who doesn't care about anything but terrorizing his victim," Jackson said as he picked up the clipping describing the death of four of Maguire's previous victims. The room was silent once more as the five men contemplated what the medic had just told them.

Part 7

Black Rock Desert-2002

Chris opened his eyes and tried to lift his head, gasping as the headache spilled over to encompass his entire body. The muscles in his neck were stiff and his back strained with the effort it took to straighten up. He kept his eyes closed as a sensation of nausea swept through him. He swallowed painfully, his throat dry, his tongue thick and glued to the roof of his mouth. A soft moan issued from his lips as he finally got his legs under him and stood up. It took the weight from his shoulders, but sent needles and pins through his fingers as the circulation was restored. He waited for the painful sensations coursing through him to die down before testing the chains binding him to the beam over his head. He wasn't surprised to find they held him fast, and along with the chains around his ankles, restricted his movements.

He gave up when he felt blood seeping from his wrists. He knew his struggles had torn the skin from under the manacles and yet he couldn't stop trying to escape. He knew in his heart he was going to die, but he wouldn't give in until this man suffered a horrible death. He was resigned to the fact that he probably would not be the one to kill him, but he had little doubt that one of his friends would do the job for him. He closed his eyes and smiled as faces swam before his eyes. He felt his mind drifting and was unaware he was no longer alone.

Maguire moved into the chamber and smiled as he realized his prisoner was sleeping again. He walked to the shelf and reached for the box he'd placed there during Larabee's wild LSD induced trip. He returned to the table set up to the left of his victim and placed the sealed box there. He took Mark Winston's knife from his pocket and cut through the tape sealing the container. He lifted the lid and smiled at the contents. Half a dozen stainless steel needles, each one six inches in length lay against a black satin background. The light reflected off of the deadly point as he lifted the first one from its resting place. He looked at his victim and smiled as he walked softly towards him. He stood behind him and took a deep, calming breath as excitement made him giddy. He knelt behind his victim and placed the tip of the gleaming needle at the back of the knee.

"The games are about to begin," he said as he pressed the long instrument into the unwilling flesh.

Green eyes opened wide and a cry of pain escaped the slack lips before Chris could clamp down it. He fought to pull away as something invaded the area behind and above his right knee. Pain ran up and down the leg as a sharp object continued to tear into him. He bit his lip, gasping as the movement stopped, but the pain remained unchecked.

Maguire smiled as he walked to the table and reached for the second needle. He knew Larabee couldn't see him as he moved slightly out of his line of vision. He carried the second one as if it was a precious medal and once more knelt behind the straining man. This time he placed the point just above the left knee smiling as he felt the bound body tense in anticipation of the pain to come. He felt the power course through him as Larabee bucked in the chains. He finished the second puncture and moved to stand in front of his victim. He waited for the green eyes to open and was rewarded as Larabee finally forced them open. He smiled at the pain he saw in them, but was shocked as that pain turned into a hate filled glare. Fear shone in his own eyes, but he quickly squashed it as he returned to the table. He picked up the third implement of torture and walked to the front of his victim.

Chris tracked the hated man to the table and watched as he returned. He got his first glimpse of what this man was using on him and almost laughed. The long thin needle reminded him of the game Sarah had bought for Adam. The game was called Pick-Up-Sticks and had given the three of them a lot of laughs, but he knew these items were not meant for fun. He knew what fear was, he felt it running through his body, but he would not allow himself to show any weakness to this man. He took a deep breath as the man walked towards him. Fire burned behind his knees, yet he would not acknowledge the pain there as his nemesis reached for his forearm. He tried to remain still as the thin needle was slowly pushed through his arm, inch by agonizing inch until it passed through the flesh and protruded through the other side. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as the move was repeated on his other arm. He gasped and held his breath as twice more his body was pierced, this time through his sides, but not deep enough to damage anything vital. The pain became too much and his body sagged in the chains, tears glistening on his cheeks as Maguire stood and surveyed his handy work.

"I think that's enough for now, Christopher. I will let you sleep for a while and when I return I will tell you about myself and my ancestor. Perhaps I will even read you a little bedtime story." He stood for a few minutes and wondered at the murderous intent he'd seen in his victim's eyes. This alone stirred a hint of admiration in him, but he would not let it stop him from making this man realize who was his natural Lord and Master. Before leaving the chamber he removed the implements of torture, cleaned them and replaced them in their case. Next he cleaned the seeping puncture wounds before leaving Larabee alone with his nightmares and pain.

Albuquerque-2002

Josiah walked into the hospital's chapel and walked to the front. He didn't want to disturb the couple sitting at the back, yet he'd noticed the tears falling from both their eyes. He said a silent prayer that whatever was happening to them would not turn out badly. He sat down and closed his eyes as he thought about the years he'd spent as a preacher and how many people he'd tried to help. Sometimes God really did show a special miracle and he was praying for one now, not just for Chris, Vin and the others, but for himself too. He needed this ragtag family, more than he cared to admit.

'Lord, I know I've probably disappointed you in more ways than one, but right now this is not about me. It's about two men who've had their share of hell on earth all their lives. I know we've all suffered dark times, but Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner seemed to have shouldered more than their share. I know you have a reason for everything that happens and I'm sure this is no exception, but, Lord, we need to find Chris or we're gonna lose both men. Help us find him before it's too late.' He stood up and looked once more at the couple at the back of the chapel, surprised to see them both look at him and smile.

"Your prayers will be answered, Mister, just have faith" the woman said.

"Ours were," the man said.

"Thank you," Josiah said as he left the little chapel. His attention was drawn to the soft ringing of a phone on the nurse's desk and he remembered he hadn't checked his answering service since arriving in Albuquerque. He wasn't expecting any calls, but with his work in the shelters someone always seemed to need him. He knew he wasn't allowed to use his cell phone in the hospital so he walked to the stairs and hurried outside.

He walked out into the bright sunshine and nodded to the two men seated on the park style bench shaded by a tall tree. Pulling his phone from his pocket he walked towards Nathan and Buck. The two men slid over and gave the big man room to sit.

"Thanks," Sanchez said as he dialed the number to contact his service. He punched in his personal code and waited for the service to kick in. He could feel the two men beside him watching him, but didn't stop what he was doing. Something seemed to be driving him to check his messages and his instincts told him it was imperative he do it now.

'You have four new messages,' the robotic voice informed him. He listened to the first massage as a young man he'd been helping thanked him for giving him a better chance at life. Josiah smiled as he thought of the 16 year old redhead and how he was now working as a busboy in a restaurant on weekends and going to school during the week. The second was from a woman who worked at a flower shop near his apartment. They'd dated a few times and she was calling to invite him to her church picnic. The third message chimed through and his eyes widened as he stood up.

Black Rock Desert-2002

Chris knew he was alone and shifted in his bonds as he attempted to relieve the pain and numbness in his hands. He knew the bastard would be back anytime and he knew that would herald another round of pain for him. This pain he could handle, but the pain of losing his 'brother' was far more than he could bare. He hadn't hurt this much since him and Buck discovered the burning house he shared with his family. That loss had cut him to the core and this one was doing the same. He couldn't let it take him down until he saw this madman dead at his feet.

Chris took a heavy breath and looked up. He saw the chain wrapped around the beam over his head, but kept his eyes diverted from his wrists, not wanting to see what his recent struggles had done to them. The beam was a heavy duty one, but Chris could see the chains were slowly making a groove in them. He started moving his arms back and forth hoping to keep the chains cutting through the beam. His head pounded and he finally sagged in exhaustion as his eyes closed.

Chris bolted upright, his eyes open, a violent scream erupting from his throat as he convulsed in the manacles holding him prisoner. The scream resounded around the chamber, mingling with the madman's laughter as he activated the button once more.

+ + + + + + +

Vin tossed on the bed in the throes of a waking nightmare, yet the others knew he wasn't quite awake. Ezra reached out and touched the sharpshooter's left shoulder. He began talking to him in a soft, almost hypnotic voice as he tried to break through whatever was troubling his friend.

"Vin, it's just a dream," he assured the tracker as he rubbed the bare shoulder and watched the emotions racing across the injured man's face. He was alone with Tanner and he tried to get through to him. His second attempt to break through the torment on the other man's face brought the blue eyes open. "Easy, Vin, you're fine," he said as he saw the fear in them.

"Ez...ra." the tracker coughed and accepted the water the gambler placed in front of his mouth. He drank a few sips before turning away. "Have to find Chris!" he said as he struggled up in the bed.

"You're not going anywhere right now, Vin," Standish told him; pressing the button that would summon the nurse.

+ + + + + + +

His hands trembled as he held the phone in a death like grip. He could feel Buck and Nathan watching him and knew they were waiting for him to speak. He listened to the voice, knowing in his heart it was a cry for help and that he was nearly helpless to give it. He looked up as JD hurried towards him, his laptop clutched in his hands. He pressed the button that would save the message, before turning watery eyes on the others.

"Josiah, what is it?" Wilmington asked, even as the excited youngest member of the team stopped beside them.

Sanchez swallowed as he looked at each man. "Chris...I...it's...he called me."

"What? When? Is he okay?" the ladies man asked worriedly.

"The call came in yesterday to my answering service. He slammed his fist against the back of the park bench as anger ran through him. "I should've checked it sooner."

"There's no point beating yourself up over this, Josiah," Jackson put his hand out to stop the irate man from repeating the motion. "What did he have to say?"

Sanchez swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with each forced breath, as he looked from one man to the other. "I know where he is."

"Where?" Wilmington asked hopefully.

"He's somewhere in the Black Rock Desert. North of Reno." Sanchez turned away for a few seconds, hiding the slight tremble in his hand, caused by the cry he'd heard from Chris Larabee just before the call abruptly ended.

"What aren't you telling us, Josiah?" Jackson asked of his long time friend.

Sanchez pressed the button on his phone that would allow him to hear the message again and he passed it to the ladies' man.

Buck accepted the compact phone and held it to his ear. He listened to the all too familiar voice, his eyes growing wide at the desperation he heard. "Josiah, h...help... Wh...where is th...this? North of R...Reno, Black Rrr...ock..." the voice tapered off in a cry of pain and Buck's face paled as he realized Chris Larabee had not given up easily. The cry he heard cut through his own pain, and he looked at the youngest member of the team, before passing the phone back to the ex-preacher. "What did you find out, JD?" he asked as he fought to control his warring emotions.

JD didn't like the look he saw on the older man's face, but knew there was little he could do about it. He opened his laptop and keyed in the information he'd found earlier. "There is a Robert Maguire, actually there were a couple of them, but only one of them seems to meet with what's been happening around here. I figured the best way to do it would be to eliminate as many as..."

"Kid, just tell us about the one you think could have Chris," Wilmington said impatiently.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," the kid said as he finished keying in the words. He turned the laptop towards the other displaying the face of a man with red hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in a black business suit and cutting the ribbon of a new hotel/casino in Reno, Nevada.

"Reno!" Josiah said as he looked at the face.

"What does it say about this guy, JD?" Wilmington asked, but didn't get an answer as Ezra Standish hurried towards them. "What's wrong?" Buck asked worriedly.

"Mr. Tanner is awake and determined to leave the hospital," Standish explained.

"Damn fool," Jackson observed as the five men hurried back inside.

+ + + + + + +

Chris breathed deeply in an effort to quell the mounting nausea caused by the electric jolt coursing through his body. His nerves were alive and burning as he sucked air deep into his heated lungs. He couldn't believe he was still alive, let alone conscious as his enemy strode towards him. He glared in defiant anger at the man smiling as he saw just a hint of fear enter the dark eyes. He watched as the man stepped closer, but stayed just beyond his reach. He almost laughed at the absurdity of this man being afraid of him just because he could still hold his head up and meet his gaze. qqq'You'll never make me back down, you bastard,'xxx he thought, a slight smile appearing on his pale face as he continued to meet the man's eyes.

Maguire kept his eyes on the bound man and watched the firm resolve in the green beacons. He knew if Larabee were ever to get free he would die a slow agonizing death at the blond's hands. He tried to stare down his captive, but the blond's eyes never wavered, never changed from the look of raw hatred he saw in them. He felt the device in his hands and once more depressed the button. He watched as the body bucked violently in the throes of the electric current, before finally sagging against the bonds holding him fast to the ceiling.

Chris had no idea how long he was jolted by the nightmarish current, but when it ended his strength was non-existent and he draped from the manacles holding him to the beam. He felt the wetness on his legs that signaled his bladder had let go, but there was no shame in it, just pain as his body betrayed its weakness. His head lay forward against his chest and he knew if he left it there he'd be giving this man what he wanted. Calling on everything he had left he lifted his head, inch by miraculous inch, until he looked his captor in the eye. Through clenched teeth and dry throat he hissed.

"Is that all you got, you sick, twisted, son of a bitch!"

Maguire lashed out with his open hand, rocking the blond head back and spilling blood from a split lip. "It's time you realized who I am," he hissed as he moved away from the bound man.

+ + + + + + +

"Mr. Tanner, lie back and relax."

"Look, Doctor Barnes, I ain't stayin' here any longer. I gotta help..."

"You won't be able to help anyone if you try to leave here now! You've had surgery to remove a bullet from your shoulder and in case you haven't noticed that headache is the result of a concussion. You get out of that bed and I can guarantee you'll be flat on your back before you get out the front door!"

Five men came through the open door and smiled at the sight of the wide awake sharpshooter arguing with his doctor. It was a relief to see Vin Tanner acting as he always did when in the hospital.

"Vin, lie back and be still," Jackson ordered.

"You're not going anywhere right now, Son," Sanchez assured him.

The injured man glared defiantly at each man as he lay back against the pillows. "Who's gonna stop me?" he hissed weakly.

"I'd say your own body will do it for us," Jackson said. "You can barely lift your head off the pillow, let alone try to get out of bed."

Barnes watched as the five men moved into protective positions around the bed and smiled. He knew they'd keep his patient where he was far better than any of the sedatives he could have ordered. He moved away from the bed and watched as the six friends talked. He admired the tight friendship they seemed to have and wondered briefly about the missing man.

"He's not going anywhere, Doc," Wilmington assured the man.

"Buck?"

"Vin, just lie down and we'll let you in on everything that's happening," Sanchez told him.

"Alright," Tanner hissed as he placed his hand to his head. The headache was returning and with it came the nausea and pain of his injuries, but above all came the reminder of his missing 'brother'. He waited for the pain to receded to a more bearable level before turning to his friends. "Have you found him?"

"Not yet, but we think we know where he is," Wilmington told him.

"Then why aren't you ..."

"Wait, Vin, Buck said we think we know where he is," Jackson said. "We've got a few leads to go through before we leave tomorrow."

"I'm coming with you!"

"Vin!"

"Look, Nathan, I'll stay here tonight, but nothing's keeping me from going after Chris." His left hand dropped back on the bed and came in contact with something there. He picked it up and held it in front of his eyes, frowning as a vision of a dusty Ezra Standish swam before his open eyes.

"Mr. Tanner, I take it you recognize that item," Standish asked.

"You," he looked at the gambler questioningly. "You gave it to me, yet it wasn't you." He frowned and closed his eyes as he tried to recall the last few minutes alone in the town of Four Corners. A groan left his throat as he tried to focus on the six figures surrounding him.

"You were there. All of you and Chris. He was there too. Only it wasn't you. It was..."

"Our ancestors," Sanchez informed him. "Or should I say the spirits of our ancestors."

"What are you talking about, Josiah?" the sharpshooter asked tiredly.

"We've all been experiencing strange things over the last week or so. Or more precisely since you and Chris left on this tour of Old West ghost towns. I think we've all been given bits and pieces of information that will eventually lead us to Chris. We'll explain all of that to you later," the ex-preacher told him.

"I saw an old newspaper clipping. It had Chris' name and mine too."

"We know," Wilmington said. "We have copies of all the clippings. There's one that talks about a man named..."

"Robert Maguire," Tanner finished. "He's the one who got Chris. I heard him. They told Chris I was dead and I couldn't tell him otherwise. They took him away and I didn't lift a fuckin' finger to stop them," he swore.

"You were hurt, Vin," JD said as he watched the pale young man's eyes fill with guilt.

"Mr. Dunne is right, Mr. Tanner. If you had moved those two miscreants would have thought nothing of putting another bullet in you."

"Listen to Ezra, Son, you couldn't have stopped them and if you tried you'd be dead now," Sanchez told him.

The Texan knew they were right, but it didn't make it any easier. He finally lifted his eyes and met those of the ladies' man. "He's alive, Buck."

"I know he is, Vin and we're gonna find him."

"Where is he?" the sharpshooter asked.

"Nevada, somewhere north of Reno in the Black Rock Desert area."

"How do you know?" the injured man asked.

"He called my cell number and left a message," the ex-preacher said softly. His voice was filled with the knowledge that he could've known this 24 hours ago if he'd only checked with his service. He knew it was nonsense to dwell on it, but it stayed at the front of his mind. qqq'I'm sorry, Son,'xxx he thought as he pictured the smiling face of the missing blond.

"When do we leave?"

"Vin, you need..." Jackson tried, but was interrupted by a steel, blue glare.

"I need to help finds him. If Josiah's right about all the strange things that have been happening then it points to all of us needing to work together to find Chris."

"Mr. Tanner may be right," Standish said. "I know he's hurt, but we've all seen him and Mr. Larabee move when they've been in worse shape than Mr. Tanner is right now. Hear me out, Mr. Jackson," he ordered as the medic moved to interrupt him. "I'm not making light of the seriousness of Mr. Tanner's injuries, but I do believe it's imperative we all do this together."

"I think Ez is right," Dunne agreed. "If what I found out about this guy Maguire..."

"JD, hang on," Jackson ordered as he watched the grimace of pain cover the sharpshooter's face. "Vin, you need to rest."

"Not 'til we find Chris."

"You won't be much help to us if you don't sleep, Vin. You're suffering from a concussion and you're still in pain. I'm gonna get the nurse to bring you something for that and then you're gonna get some sleep."

"Nathan, I..."

"Do you want to go with us tomorrow?" Jackson asked angrily as he looked into the pain filled blue eyes. The shaggy head bobbed once and the medic continued. "Then you sleep, eat and do whatever they tell you. Got it?"

"Yeah," Tanner hissed in defeat. He let his eyes slide closed and listened as Jackson talked with his nurse. He heard the door open and felt the hand holding his IV gripped by soft fingers. He knew she was giving him a shot of morphine and knew it wouldn't be long before the pain dropped to a more bearable level. He reached out for the quicksilver connection he often felt with Chris Larabee and found it, albeit a weak one, but he was glad to have anything right now. 'Hang on, Chris, the cavalry's on the way,' he thought as he drifted into a drug-induced sleep.

Black Rock Desert-2002

Chris watched through hooded eyes as his tormentor pulled an old chair in front of him. Next the man walked to a table and picked up a bottle of water. He watched as he twisted off the cap and strode purposely towards him.

"This is only water, Christopher. I know you must be craving it by now and in spite of your behavior I am going to let you have some." He smiled as Larabee's mouth clenched tightly and refused the offering. "I'm afraid you really have no choice here, Christopher. You see I can force this down your throat by using a funnel and tube if I wanted to, but it's painful for you. This really is only water I assure you."

Larabee refused to admit his need for the liquid, and closed his eyes in the hope his captor would leave him in piece. The puncture wounds on the back of his knees were painful as he forced his legs to hold his weight. He felt a hand in his hair and his head was viciously pulled back. He continued to fight as the hand moved swiftly to grasp his nose and close off his air supply. He lost track of time as bright twinkling lights flashed behind his lids before he had to open his mouth and suck in air. He took two heady breaths before he was forced to swallow the water being poured through his slack lips. He didn't know how long he was force fed, but when the bottle was finally removed he was close to blacking out from lack of air.

"It would be so much easier on you if you would just cooperate instead of fighting me. I have the upper hand here and I can make your life a living hell."

"Li...little pr...prick like y...you is f...full of s...shit. C...can't do n...nothing unless you tie a man up. F...fuckin' coward just like y...your friend." Again his head was rocked back as Maguire lost his temper.

"You will not speak of Mark Winston. You murdered him and for that you will pay."

Larabee glared at the man as blood seeped from a cut on the inside of his left cheek. He knew this man needed to feel in control and he wasn't going to let that happen. He would take that control away and show him who really was the master in this game. A small chuckle sounded in the chamber, growing louder as the blond used his strength to downplay the pain in his body. His laughter was soon joined by the sound of flesh hitting flesh as his enemy lost control of his anger.

Maguire struck at his prisoner as laughter spilled from his captive's throat and echoed around the chamber. He watched as the handsome face continued to show mirth before he strode back to the table. He picked up the small black box and adjusted the settings. He looked at the REACT stun belt he'd placed around Larabee's waist and smiled as he walked in front of his prisoner. "See if you find anything funny about this, Christopher?" he said as he pressed on the button.

Chris arched against the electric current that seemed to race through his body, igniting the nerve endings as it assaulted his extremities and closed back in on itself. The jolt lasted less than eight seconds, yet gave a lifetime of pain and humiliation as his body couldn't control its natural reaction to the charge flowing through it. He vomited the contents of his stomach and sagged against the manacles. He heard his enemy leave as he sank towards the waiting darkness. He felt a quicksilver touch on his mind and frowned as he thought of the only man who could ever do that. 'Vin's dead,' he thought in spite of the touch. As tears flowed down his dirt encrusted face he gave himself over to the waiting arms of sleep.

Albuquerque-2002

They waited until they were sure Vin Tanner was sleeping before turning their attention to the youngest member of the team. JD had already cleared the use of his laptop with the hospital and it was open and booting up as they watched. He keyed in his password and quickly brought up the information he'd dug up in his earlier search.

"Okay, Kid, tell us what you found out," Wilmington ordered.

"Robert Maguire was born in July 1952 in Taos, New Mexico. Mother, Josie Maguire, died during childbirth and he lived with his father, Robert Maguire, until he was placed with relatives. Robert Maguire Sr. was sentenced to life imprisonment for the torture deaths of an elderly couple in a convenience store. He died at the age of fifty-eight during a prison riot. Robert Maguire Jr. lived with Gerald and Myra Maguire in Taos New Mexico before moving to Reno, Nevada in 1960. The couple died in a house fire under mysterious circumstances in 1970. Robert was eighteen at the time and was suspected of causing their deaths, but there was no proof and it didn't go to trial. Within ten years of their deaths Robert Maguire worked odd jobs and took a business course at Harvard. There's nothing that explains where he got enough money to put him through university, but again there were a lot of suspicions, including the death of a couple he stayed with during his time at Harvard. Again, he had a perfect alibi and the police couldn't make anything stick."

"This guy sounds like he's left a bloody trail behind him," Jackson said.

"There's more," Dunne told them. "Once he got his business degree from Harvard he went back to Reno where he went to work in a Casino. There was a problem involving missing funds and Maguire quickly pointed the finger at an associate of his. A young man named Brian Newcomb and..."

"Let me guess?" Wilmington hissed. "he died under mysterious circumstances."

"And Robert Maguire had a perfect alibi," Standish finished.

"Yep. It doesn't stop there either. It seems like Maguire made his way up the rungs of the ladder by stepping over bodies. There's at least seven mysterious deaths over a six year space that point to Maguire, yet each time he had an alibi. Nothing the police turned up would hold up in a court of law. The owner and operator of the casino he worked for also died, but not before leaving everything he owned to his 'adopted' son. Jerome Turner, owner of The Golden Parrot hotel and casino died in a plane crash, again under mysterious circumstances."

"How can this guy have been around all these mysterious deaths, yet keep his hands clean?" Wilmington asked as he paced the hospital room.

"He's smart," Standish suggested. "If he is the man we are looking for then he's smart like his ancestor."

"Not so smart," came a tired voice from the bed.

"You're supposed to be sleeping, Vin," Jackson admonished as he walked to the bed.

"Was sleeping, but I keep feeling Chris. He's not doing too well, Nate. He's out there alone, in pain and we need to find him fast."

"We've got a pretty good idea of who has him. It's just a matter of finding out exactly where he is," Wilmington explained.

"We know he's in the Black Rock Desert area, but that's a big place and it'll take a long time to search it," Sanchez advised.

"Somehow, I think the past, our ancestors, and the present are going to help us in our search for Mr. Larabee."

"You're right, Ezra, everything is leading us to finding Chris and it's just a matter of time..."

"Does Chris have that time, Josiah?" Dunne asked.

"If we believe in everything we've been shown so far and that the present is mirroring the past then yes we'll find Chris in time," the ex-preacher told them.

"Vin?"

"Yeah, Nate?"

"Try to sleep."

"Can't."

"Try, Vin, otherwise there's no way in hell you'll be getting out of here tomorrow. If I have anything to say about it you'll be staying here anyway."

"You can't do that, Nathan. We all need to be there..."

"Yes, we do," Jackson agreed, "But we won't be if you don't rest because you'll be too weak to move tomorrow, and we won't be able to convince the doctor to let you go."

"I can sign myself out."

"Not if you're unconscious. I don't like the idea of you leaving here tomorrow anyway, but I know you're part of this...this...whatever it is. But I'm not gonna let you come with us if you're not able to move on your own. Understood?"

"Yeah," Tanner's voice was filled with relief at knowing they wouldn't stop him from going along in spite of his wounds. They understood whatever was happening involved all of them and Chris' survival, his life, hinged on their being together. He felt the exhaustion pulling at him, but not before a shadow moved in the corner. As his mind drifted towards sleep he sighed as the features became clear. Chris Larabee, but not the man he knew so well, stood silhouetted against the stark white walls.

The dark clad gunslinger watched as the young sharpshooter sank towards sleep. He moved back into the shadows and watched as the rest of his great, great grandson's friends, so like his own, closed the circle around Vin Tanner. 'Sleep, Vin, he's going to need you,' the shadow whispered.

Vin heard the softly whispered words as he gave into his body's needs and slept.

Black Rock Desert-2002

While Vin Tanner was entering a healing sleep, Chris Larabee was waking to darkness. He fought to get his eyes open as a wave of pain washed through him. He knew he was alone, yet Maguire had been there and extinguished the lights that provided him some comfort in his horrid surroundings. At least when the lights were on it gave him a sense of belonging. With the lights he'd been able to watch as shadows performed strange dances on the chamber walls. All he had now was the utter, cloying, darkness that gave him too much time to think. His body trembled in the cold air and he knew it must be night time. The temperature outside had plummeted causing the interior of the old mine to mimic the outside world.

Chris shifted his feet and pushed up with his legs, moaning as pain once more came alive in his arms. He felt the manacles pull away from his mangled wrists and fresh blood tracked its way down both arms. He cried out as a tremor raced through his body and realized it was probably the result of the electric belt wrapped around his waist. He knew this shock wasn't real, but his body reacting to the memory of the sharp, twisting current that flowed through him. He knew he'd lost control of his body's reactions, evidenced by the sickly odor permeating the area, yet he felt no shame, just anger. Anger at the man who killed his best friend and held him prisoner in this hell.

He felt his mind drifting again and was unable to stop it. Shadows formed in spite of the darkness and he thought the drug his captor forced on him was sending him on another trip. The shadow formed into the image of a man in buckskin and he felt the grief flood him. "V...Vin...sorry...," he mumbled tiredly, unable to take his eyes from the figure bathed in ethereal light.

'Chris, you need to hold on. Don't let this bastard kill you. Your great, great grandfather didn't let him win and you can't either.'

"C...cold, Vin, tired," Larabee's voice was the only sound in the dark chamber.

'I know you are, Chris, but you can do this. You've got something no one else has. You've got six friends searching for you and they need you to stay alive for them.'

"I'm trying...bastard hu...rt me," the voice was filled with pain, but also held a strength of soul few people ever had. "Shocked me...whipped me...some kind of drug....feel sick all the time."

'I'm afraid that's gonna continue, Chris, but you can hang on. You have to hang on, for their sake as well as yours.'

"Don't know if I c...can....feel l...like he took half of me when he k...killed you."

'Your Vin is not dead, Chris. He's still with you as my Chris is with me. Just don't give up.' The buckskin-clad figure began to fade as a new, dangerous light entered the cave.

Chris watched until the buckskin clad form disappeared altogether before his eyes were caught and held by the bright flashlight beam coming towards him. He clenched his eyes tightly in an effort to douse the imagined fire he felt. He sucked in air as he realized the return of light meant his nemesis was back. He would not, could not allow this man to gain the upper hand. No matter how much his body betrayed him, his mind would hold firm in his resolve to beat the lowlife before him.

"Hello, Christopher, I hope you've enjoyed your sojourn into darkness," Maguire talked softly as he lit the lamps and candles he'd spread throughout the chamber. "You see I do not hold a grudge and I am willing to forgive you for what you said. I know you didn't mean it."

"Me...ant...every...fuckin' word," Larabee hissed through clenched teeth. He smiled as his words drew the desired affect and his captor's face showed his rage for a fleeting instant. He waited for the resultant rage to manifest itself as his enemies fists, but no blow landed, instead a finger raked across the caned X on his chest. He shuddered, but didn't drop his gaze.

"Oh, Christopher, I wonder if my great, great, grandfather had such problems with his Chris Larabee." He smiled as his victim frowned, yet the gaze never wavered. "You see I have The Book that tells of my ancestor's endeavors to meet his destiny and take a man's soul as his own. He believed he could harness a man's power if he heard him scream at the right time." He continued to rake his fingers along the injury until he dropped his hand to the belt encircling Larabee's waist. "My name is Robert Maguire," he watched as a hint of uncertainty surfaced in the glaring green eyes. "I see that name means something to you."

"Fuck all!" the blond snarled as he forced a smile to his face.

Maguire wanted to wipe the defiance from the man's face, but first he wanted him to know how they were destined to meet. "It doesn't really matter if you admit it or not. You see I am just like my great, great grandfather. I was blessed with his name and his need to take what was rightfully his. Robert Maguire died at the hands of your friends when they saved Chris Larabee, but you will not be so lucky. Vin Tanner played a big part in finding and rescuing your ancestor, but he's dead and can't help you now." He laughed as his words had the desired effect and Larabee's stormy green eyes filled with pain and sorrow. "I see that got your attention. Perhaps I should have kept him alive and made him die a slow death before I take your life."

"Sick....bas...tard," Larabee hissed as fire once more raged through his eyes.

"Not sick, Christopher. I'm strong and more than willing to take what I want. What I want is for you to admit that I am your natural Lord and Master and to beg me to end your life..."

"N...ever happen!"

"You say that now, Christopher, but a man can only take so much. Just take this belt," he whispered as he placed his hands between the black REACT belt and Larabee's stomach. "This is a Remote Electronically Activated Technology stun belt, REACT for short. I see you've heard of them," he said as Larabee's eyes widened expectantly. "This one is my own special version of the REACT belt. You see it delivers a jolt as high as I wish for it to be. I could kill you with it if I turned it to its highest level, but you won't die from this, Christopher. I will kill you with Mark's knife when you're ready for it," He took the switchblade from his pocket and placed it at the exact meeting of the two welts he'd made on his victim's chest. "You see this is where I'll force the blade into your body, savoring the final breath as it leaves you."

Chris hissed in pain as the blade sank into his chest. He kept his eyes on the madman standing before him, knowing once more his sanity hinged on being able to best this man with a glare. It was the only thing he had left to fight with. and he needed it to be as strong as it ever was. He'd once been told his glare could make a man drop dead of fear, and it was something he needed to hang on to, no matter how true or false it was. He focused on anything but the pain emanating from his chest, yet his eyes remained on Robert Maguire.

Maguire stood in awe of the bound man before him. He knew it would take a lot before Larabee gave up and pleaded for his own death, but it was something he would do. Maguire was sure of that as he withdrew the blade, realizing he'd nearly gone to far as he saw the blood quickly leaving Larabee's body. He wiped off the blade and placed it on the table. He walked to the shelf and picked up a bottle of whiskey and a first aid kit. He walked back to his captive and slowly opened the kit as Larabee's eyes continued to un-nerve him. He angrily dropped his gaze, aware that he was conceding that Larabee was stronger than he was. He pulled out a gauze pad and poured whiskey over it before placing the soaked bandage over the wound.

Chris held his breath as the whiskey soaked gauze was placed on the puncture wound. He struggled to keep from crying out as Maguire's hands pressed on the bleeding hole. He tried to pull away as the madman's sickening laughter bounced off the chamber walls.

Maguire ran the gauze over the red welts and watched in glee as his victim cringed away from the stinging pain. "So much more to do with you, Christopher, so much pain to inflict. My ancestor didn't have the things we have today or you would never have been born because your ancestor would've died at his hands. Rest, Christopher, rest and stay strong for when I return I have much more to show you."

Chris watched the madman walk away and was surprised when he stopped just before exiting the chamber.

"I don't want you thinking that because you can't see me I'm unable to cause you pain," Maguire smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black object. "At any time I can turn this button and activate the REACT belt," he watched the eyes widen, yet they held no fear. "I won't do it right now, but I wanted you to know I have it and I can do it without warning." He turned and walked away leaving Larabee alone once more. He stopped at the mine entrance and ran his finger over the little black box before activating it.

Chris breathed a sigh of relief as the madman left him alone. The lights around him flickered as he tried to ease some of the pain in his arms and legs. He screamed as the belt was activated and his body was once more jolted in the confines of the manacles holding him in place.

Albuquerque-2002

"NO!" five men moved to the bed as the anguished cry of rage emanated from the sleeping man. They knew Tanner was feeling whatever was being done to Chris Larabee and yet there was little they could do to help either of them. Anger and fear resided on each face as they watched the struggle on the handsome face. Those emotions were quickly overridden by the promise of death to Robert Maguire for what he'd done to Vin Tanner and continued to do to Chris Larabee.

Black Rock Desert-2002

Chris sagged in the manacles as his body slowly returned to normal, or what he was beginning to think of as normal. The jolt running through him made him feel as if he was having a heart attack and he knew he couldn't withstand much more of this kind of punishment. His legs and arms trembled as he fought against the agonizing sensations brought on by the electric current. Pins and needles ran through his extremities as his chest throbbed and he found it difficult to draw a deep breath. His lungs were crying out for air and he forced himself to relax until the effects of the stun belt wore off.

His heart pounded in his chest until he thought it would explode from his ribcage. He knew he needed to bring his body under control, but it wasn't going to be easy. He lost track of time as his tortured lungs fought to keep enough oxygen flowing through his body. He coughed and cringed as stiffening muscles protested the movement. A soft moan issued from his throat as his legs gave out and his shoulders felt like they were torn from their sockets. He was finally able to draw in enough air, but he gasped as pain awakened in the other parts of his body. He closed his eyes as he fought to keep his strength in spite of the situation he was in. There was still something he had to do and he would make sure he saw it completed even if he wasn't able to complete it himself. Robert Maguire would die for robbing the world of Vin Tanner, it was just a matter of staying alive long enough to see the job done. In spite of the exhaustion and pain residing in his mind and body Chris Larabee forced himself to stand tall.

"I'll find some way to make him pay, Vin, something slow and painful," he vowed as visions of the bloodied form swam before him. The meager light glinted off the moisture in his eyes, but it had nothing to do with physical pain. The sea green orbs finally closed and Chris Larabee succumbed to the physical and mental trials he'd been put through.

Robert Maguire shivered as he heard the softly spoken promise from his victim. Never before had anyone even remotely showed the strength he saw in this man. He knew Larabee couldn't possibly win, yet those words spoken in an empty chamber, sent a chill down his spine that wouldn't let go. He shivered in spite of the sweat running down his body as he hurried from the mine. He needed to find something that would break his victim, yet there didn't seem to be anything he could use.

Part 8

Albuquerque-2002

Vin opened his eyes as bright morning sunshine streamed in through the window. He lifted his left hand and rubbed against his forehead in an effort to clear his vision. He knew there was something he needed to do, something important, yet he couldn't quite grasp it. He took a deep breath and grimaced as the throbbing pain in his head grew worse. He fought back the nausea and reached for the button on the rail of his bed. He closed his eyes as the room spun around him, but didn't stop the movement until he was sitting up. He forced his eyes open once more and looked around the room, surprised to find he was alone. 'They left without me,' was his first thought, but he quickly shoved it aside, knowing they all realized something beyond the norm was happening and they were all needed to save Chris Larabee.

Vin fought back the image of Chris being dragged away by two men. He knew they'd done something to the blond as he didn't seem to kick up much of a fight. He pressed the side rail as a sharp pain erupted in his right shoulder. He remembered the doctor telling him they removed the bullet, but the collarbone was broken. He shifted his weight until his legs hung over the side of the bed. He slid to the floor and leaned heavily on his IV pole. He felt a draft at his back and knew the hospital gown had come open, but it didn't deter him from his mission. He looked up as the door opened and an irate voice hissed at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Vin?" Jackson asked as he hurried to steady the swaying man. Once he was sure Tanner wouldn't fall he held the gown closed for him.

"I needed to get to the bathroom, Nate. All these liquids they've been pumping into me have to come out sometime," Tanner grinned as the medic's hand steadied him.

"Thanks," he said as Jackson held the gown closed.

"Why didn't you use the call button? You know you're not supposed..."

"Nathan, I've been going to the bathroom on my own since I was knee high to a grasshopper. Ain't nothing gonna change that," the sharpshooter moved away from the bed and walked slowly towards the bathroom. He could feel Jackson hovering close by and knew the man would grab him if he ran out of energy.

Nathan walked close behind the younger man until he made it to the bathroom. He opened the door and held it for the younger man until Tanner was inside. He stood there for a few seconds needing to know his friend was steady enough to continue.

"Nate, I can handle things from here," the sharpshooter assured him as he closed the door.

Jackson remained where he was, just outside the door and listened for anything that would alert him his friend was in trouble. He tensed as too much time seemed to pass with no sign of the injured man coming out. He was about to knock on the door when it finally opened and the pale young man exited the room. "Are you okay, Vin?"

"Yeah, just feel like an ol' man right now."

"Well, you kind've look that way too," Jackson grinned at the sheepish look on the tracker's face. "It's par for the course, Vin. You've been shot twice, had surgery, and suffered from dehydration." He smiled as they slowly walked back to the bed. "that sunburn doesn't help matters either."

"Thanks, Nathan, ya really know how to cheer a guy up," the sharpshooter said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "What time is it?"

"Eight thirty. Breakfast is coming around..."

"I'm not hungry..."

"That's okay," Jackson smiled. "All you need to be is thirsty."

"Huh?"

"Clear fluid diet. Jell-O, black tea and juice."

"Oh, hell, wonder what Chris..." He stopped as he realized he was going to ask what Larabee was having. His eyes grew worried as he met the medic's voice. "What time are we leaving?"

"Travis is sending the jet for us. It should arrive around noon. By the time it's checked out and ready to go it'll be after two. That gives you enough time to eat whatever they bring you and get some more sleep."

"Jesus, Nathan," Tanner hissed in frustration as a tremor ran through his lean form. "We need to move faster. The longer Chris is in the hands of those madmen the harder it's gonna be to find him. He's hurtin...bad!"

"I know, Vin, but would Chris want you ignoring your own health to go after him?"

Tanner smiled thinly as he answered. "N...no, he'd..."

"Kick your ass," Jackson finished, smiling as the door opened and an orderly brought n a tray of food.

Vin continued to sit on the edge of the bed as the orderly placed the tray on the table and pushed it towards him. He looked at the tray, not seeing what was on it as his mind conjured up visions of Chris Larabee, alone and at the mercy of a madman who seemed to have ties with their past. All he could think about was the damage done to the victims of Robert Maguire in the 1860s and 70s. Somehow he knew Chris wasn't faring any better than they had. He also realized his friend was probably going through an experience similar to the one his great, great grandfather had in 1876. That Chris Larabee nearly died according to the article and he prayed they'd be able to find their Chris Larabee before it was too late.

"Come on, Vin, I know it's not much, but you need to try," Jackson said.

"I know, Nate, I just can't shake the feeling that we gotta hurry."

"Hell, Vin, we all have that feeling. Buck's driving everyone nuts wanting to get moving. We all know how important it is, but we can't go anywhere until the jet arrives and Dr. Barnes takes a look at you."

"Don't matter what he says, Nate, I'm going."

"I know, Vin, I just want to make sure we have everything we need to keep you comfortable and stave off any kind of infection. That means Dr. Barnes has to look you over and tell us what meds you need and what we need to watch out for."

Tanner took a deep breath and turned his attention to the tray. The liquid diet was unappetizing, but it didn't matter as his appetite was non-existent. His stomach churned at the thought of what could be happening to his best friend in the harsh white sands of the Black Rock Desert.

Black Rock Desert-2002

Robert Maguire sat studying the man hanging before him. He returned to the chamber three hours after using the REACT belt on his captive and now he was watching the man as he slept. The blond hair was soaked in sweat and matted to his scalp with dirt and dust. The face held a few scratches and a major bruise covered the right side of his face. The skin that wasn't bruised held a gray pallor that showed just how much abuse this man had taken so far. He smiled as he realized there was more to come for his victim. He looked at the bone-handled stiletto in his hand and knew what he was about to do would mirror what his ancestor had done to his victims. Not all of them were worthy of it, but Christopher Larabee both past and present were bound to him, and he would again make it a blood tie. He took the blade and slid it down his left forearm, smiling as the crimson fluid ran down towards his elbow. Without a word he stood up and stepped in front of the still sleeping man.

He reached up and took hold of his victim's right forearm. He smiled as the eyelids fluttered at his touch and the body instinctively shied away from him. "We need to do things right, Christopher," he said as he slowly pushed the long thin blade into the bound man's arm.

Chris came too as a sharp pain in his arm drove the final vestiges of a peaceful sleep away. His dream, in which he was lying on a sun-drenched beach with Sarah and Adam, quickly dissipated. He cried out as he was thrown back into the nightmare reality of a chamber of horrors run by his own personal demon. His eyes were drawn to the blade protruding from his arm and the blood running freely past his elbow towards his shoulder. It took a few seconds for Maguire's words to reach him and he shuddered at the calm voice.

"This will make it impossible for anyone to break the chain, Christopher. You see, I've been studying my ancestor's journal and one of the things he mentions is you. Not you, but your ancestor. He wrote that when he finally found the right soul he would make sure they were forever bound by mixing their blood. I do not believe I will take your soul with this, but there are some strange coincidences happening here," he explained as he sank the blade even further into the un-protesting flesh. "It's strange how both our great, great grandfather's met under similar circumstances to ours. You are an advocate of what's right and I am an advocate of what's right for me."

Chris clenched his teeth as the madman continued to push the blade into his arm. He cried out as Maguire suddenly jerked the intruding metal from his arm and placed his own arm against the open wound. He watched, mesmerized as the free flowing blood mingled and ran down their arms. He turned away from the blood tie Maguire was making and met the man's gaze. He knew he was weakening, as evidenced by how hard it was to stand on his legs instead of sagging against the manacles on his wrists. 'Meet his eyes, Larabee, if you don't you might as well give up and fuckin' die right now!' he silently swore. Inch by agonizing inch he raised his head until he looked directly into the face of madness. He smiled as Maguire seemed to wilt under his glare. The man dropped his gaze and moved away, his eyes downcast for a few seconds, but it gave Chris Larabee a sense of control. He was down, but he was far from out and the bastard would not win every round. The pain he could manage and the knowledge that Vin Tanner was dead he would deal with as long as this man was sent to hell. He watched as Maguire cleaned his own wound and then walked towards him with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He knew what was coming and he set himself to deal with the pain.

Maguire smiled as he advanced on his captive. He couldn't quite meet the man's eyes and knew if he did Larabee would best him with a look. For now he would continue to work on weakening his victim's body. His mind would weaken in time and he would hear Christopher Adam Larabee beg for his own death. When that happened he'd prove that he was better than any of his ancestors, including the man who'd wrote The Book.

"This might sting a little," he smiled as he poured the liquor into the open wound.

Chris held his body taut as the fiery liquid mixed with his blood and quickly set fire to the nerves in his arms. He held his breath while Maguire cleaned the wound and taped a piece of gauze over it.

"I am going to send you on another trip, Christopher, but not until this afternoon. I find this blood loss exhausting and I am in need of sleep. You should take advantage of it as well, for when I return things will go very hard on you. Oh, I will not use the REACT belt as I have something that will involve the use of my hands. I will return this afternoon," he said as he walked away and left his victim alone once more.

Chris took a deep breath as nausea threatened to overwhelm him. His stomach churned in spite of the rumbling that signaled its emptiness and dry heaves suddenly wracked his body. He coughed and groaned as his chest tightened and his lungs once more fought for air. He knew he was getting sick, but again he forced his mind and body to ignore it. He sagged in the chains, not realizing his body was giving in while his mind still fought. Blood soaked through the gauze on his arm and ran from the raw flesh around his wrists as he gave into the call of darkness once more.

His dreams were far from peaceful as a madman advanced on him with fire and his silent scream died before it left his throat. Faces, both male and female, young and old, long dead and living swam before his closed lids. There would be no escaping hell for Chris Larabee as past and present mingled to torture his mind as Maguire had tortured his body.

Albuquerque-2002

Frank Barnes examined his patient, checking his eyes, the bandaged wound on his head and recording every detail. He knew the reluctant patient was leaving the hospital today with or without his permission. Barnes looked into the dazed blue eyes of the man on the bed.

"I'm not signing any discharge papers, Mr. Tanner," Barnes said as he looked from his patient to the medic standing on the opposite side of the bed.

"I know, Doc, just get me the papers and I'll sign myself out."

"Can't you talk some sense into him, Mr. Jackson?"

The medic wanted nothing more than to see the young sharpshooter remain in the hospital where he belonged. He also knew there was no way that was going to happen, somehow they would all need to be there to rescue Chris Larabee from the clutches of a madman. A madman whose very existence seemed to transcend the bonds of time and circumstances. He met the eyes of the sharpshooter and saw his own thoughts mirrored in the clear blue pools.

"I'm sorry, Doc, once his mind's made up it's impossible to get him to change it," Jackson supplied.

"Do any of you realize how serious his wounds are? Especially the head wound and I haven't even mentioned the dehydration he suffered."

"I know, Doc, and I've been hurt before, but this is somethin' I gotta do. A man's life hinges on..."

"Your life hinges on you getting the care you need."

"Nathan'll make sure I don't over do things, Doc. He's used to taking care of us and we trust him."

Tanner's expression showed the truth of his words and Jackson couldn't help the pride his words conjured up. He'd always known his friends trusted him, but when the quiet Texan said the words in front of others it drove home just how much he meant to them. "I'll make sure he rests, Doc," he assured the man.

"Not just rest, Mr. Jackson. He needs to take his medications on time. He needs to keep his fluid intake up, he needs to eat and sleep."

"We'll see that he does," the medic affirmed.

Barnes looked down at the injured man and saw the evidence of the pain the young man was trying to hide. "The broken collarbone is bad enough and it's gonna be uncomfortable, but it won't put you down," His eyebrows rose and he continued to stare at his patient. "What will put you down, and keep you there is that head wound! You were shot and the bullet took a fair chunk out of your scalp and you'll suffer the headaches that accompany a severe concussion! You'll more than likely be sick to your stomach and have dizzy spells. When this happens it's because your body is telling you it needs to rest and I'm warning you not to take this lightly! If you don't listen to what your body is telling you it won't be long before you'll be back in the hospital."

"Hell, Doc..."

"Hell is right, Mr. Tanner! There's little doubt in my mind you'll be back in the hospital before long and when you are just remember what I told you today!"

Barnes turned to walk away from the bed, but was stopped by the soft Texan drawl. "If there was a choice, Doc, I'd stay, but there's not. A friend...a brother is waiting for us to find him before it's too late."

Barnes' face was serious as he looked at the determination in the sharpshooter's eyes. "Would your friend...your brother want you to give up your life for his?"

"No, but he'd do the same if the roles were reversed," Tanner said simply.

"I'll get the papers ready for you to sign. This goes against everything I believe in, but there's no way I can keep you here if you're determined to leave." He turned his gaze on the medic once more. "I hope you realize what this could do to him!" he hissed and left the two friends alone.

Vin studied the now brooding medic and knew the man was wavering. He took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed to wait for the nurse to remove the IV from his arm. "Nathan, I know you're worried, but..."

"I know there's no choice, Vin, but I still don't like it. We're relying on..."

"Our instincts. Look, Nathan, you were in Four Corners. You and Josiah felt something there."

"I don't deny that."

"If that was all I'd agree to stay, but, Nate, there's a lot more to this. There's too much going on to pass it off as coincidence. Chris needs us all and we both know it." He stopped as the other men returned.

"How are you feeling, Son?" Sanchez asked.

"Truthfully, Josiah, I feel like shit, but I'm leaving here anyway. Is the jet here?"

"It's here and being refueled," Wilmington told him and walked to the window. He could feel five pairs of eyes watching him and knew they understood his pain. He'd known Chris Larabee longer than any of the others and had been there through good times and bad. He valued that friendship and wanted to hang on to it for years to come, yet he could feel the bond slipping through his fingers. He turned back to the others as tears welled up in his deep blue eyes. He met each gaze before stopping on the man whose bond with the blond was even stronger than his own.

"Can you still feel him?" he asked softly and sucked in a deep breath as the sharpshooter simply nodded. That simple gesture told him all he needed to know. "Then let's get you ready and get the fucking bastard who has him." With those simple words the six men knew they were ready to take down Robert Maguire once and for all.

+ + + + + + +

Black Rock Desert-2002

Chris opened his eyes and frowned as he lifted his arms. Pain radiated outwards from both shoulders and he tried to understand what that meant. He forced his eyes open and frowned as he looked up towards the ceiling. It didn't take long for him to realize he was lying on the ground, but it took a few minutes for him to realize what that meant. He turned on his side and used his aching arms to force his body upwards. His shoulders screamed in agony as the stiffened muscles awakened with renewed vigor. He looked up at the broken beam and remembered his first glance upwards had revealed how the chains were cutting a groove in it. He realized the wood must've weakened over the years and finally collapsed with his weight pulling down on it.

"Jesus!" he swore as he realized he was wasting precious time. His hands were still encased in the manacles, but at least he could move them in spite of the pain it caused to his upper body. He looked down at his waste and recognized the hated belt wrapped around his midsection. He reached for the clasp, but swollen hands and fingers made it a lessen in futility. He cried out as his anger grew, and ignored the pain in his limbs as he snatched at the clasp. He sucked in a breath as he realized he'd been holding it, and tore the belt from his waist. He ripped the wires from the torture device before flinging it across the chamber.

Pain wracked his body, but there was no time to dwell on it as he looked down at his ankles. Blood stuck to the metal and the mangled flesh around his leg as he struggled to pull the bolt from the floor of the mine. He grew frustrated as the bolt held his feet tight and he swore angrily. He looked around the vast chamber until he spotted the small scraps of metal he'd torn from the REACT belt. Picking up the longest piece he inserted it in the lock wrapped around the chain. His fingers refused to work and he lost count of how many times he dropped the stiff wire. It shocked him when he pushed the wire in and the lock was already open. A smile formed on his pale face as he pulled the mechanism from the chains. The length of chain running between his ankles would make it impossible for him to move quickly, but he refused to let that deter him. Taking a deep breath to steady the growing pain in his body he turned onto his stomach and pushed up to his knees before climbing up on his feet. His ankles refused to hold him and he grabbed for the nearby table. He stood there, waiting until the needles and pins racing through his lower leg subsided.

Chris knew he wouldn't get far if he didn't get moving now. He pushed away from the table and walked towards the tunnel leading out of the chamber. He forced himself to move, ignoring the mounting pain that threatened to engulf him and send him back to the ground. His left arm snaked out and touched the side of the tunnel leading out of the mine and he stopped to catch his breath and fight down the mounting nausea. He listened for Maguire's return, but all he heard was his own too fast heartbeat pounding in his chest. He kept moving, one foot in front of the other, sliding his hand along the wall in an effort to stay on his feet.

He could see sunlight streaming in from outside and had to squint as he got closer to the exit. He stopped again and listened for his captor's return, but again there was nothing but his own labored breathing, and the pounding of his heart. 'Just keep moving!' he ordered as he made it to the misshaped entrance. He waited for his eyes to adjust and slowly looked to the right of the entrance. Nothing moved in the harsh heat and he turned to his left.

Maguire smiled as he swung the crowbar, connecting solidly with the limping man. He laughed as Larabee screamed in a combination of pain and rage as he dropped to the ground.

"Fu...uck...!" The victim's voice was barely audible as wave after wave of agonizing defeat mingled with the blossoming pain in his hip. He writhed on the ground, not caring anymore if his captor saw his pain. There was nothing for him now, but the unbearable white-hot fire burning through his hip.

"Did you think you could escape me that easily, Christopher?" Maguire asked as he knelt beside the moaning man. He could see the bruise forming on Larabee's hip and knew he'd probably broken it, but it didn't matter. He would eventually kill this man, but for now pain was to his advantage. It would continue to wear down his victim and make him easier to manage. He reached out and pressed against the deepening bruise and smiled at the sharp intake of breath

Chris gritted his teeth as Maguire's hand touched his hip. He could feel the bones shifting and knew his hip was either dislocated or broken. Somehow he knew the intense pain signaled that it was broken and probably badly. He fought against his darkening vision and again met his enemy's eyes. "Si...ick....b...bastard," he screamed as Maguire grabbed his injured hip and tightened his fingers in the bruised flesh.

"I have something for you to drink, Christopher. I was going to mix it with a little LSD and send you on another wild trip, but," he smiled as he looked into the pain filled green eyes. "I think the pain you're in is enough of a trip for now." He lifted the bottle of water and shook his head as Larabee clenched his mouth tightly. "Now, Christopher, it really is only water." He made a smacking sound with his lips as he reached for Larabee's nose, pinching it closed until the blond was forced to open his mouth and take a deep breath. Again he forced the bottle past the dry lips and poured water into his victim's mouth.

Chris had no choice but to swallow and he felt his body gratefully accepting the offering. He was forced to drink until half the bottle was gone and Maguire finally pulled the bottle away. The injured man lay still, his eyes closed against the dizziness assaulting him, his stomach churning as he fought to hold down the water.

"Now, Christopher, it's time to get you back inside and see how you managed to escape. I don't think you'll be able to walk which means there's only one way to do this."

Chris felt the hated man grab him under his arms and begin to drag him towards his prison once more. He screamed as his hip bounced off the rocks and other debris as his captor laughed maliciously.

"You would've liked the LSD trip a lot better," Maguire said as he continued to drag Larabee inside.

Time had little meaning to the injured man as the pain reached out and finally sent him into a blissful oblivion where even Maguire's taunting voice couldn't reach him.

He dropped his burden in the center of the chamber and frowned at the broken beam overhead. He searched the roof of the cave until he found a suitable replacement. He walked past the unconscious man and pulled the chains from the old beam. He knew he wouldn't need to immobilize his captive's feet as the broken hip would make it impossible for him to move without setting off a grating agony in his hip. He ran the chains over the new beam and frowned as he kicked something on the floor. He bent down and picked up the broken belt and swore as he noted the damage done to it. He threw it back in the corner and turned back to the blond. Once more he dragged the lean body to the beam and attached the length of chain. He walked back to the crank and began lifting Larabee off the floor. As he was forced to bend at the waist a sharp moan escaped the slack lips and Maguire smiled as he realized that even unconscious Christopher Larabee was in agony. He continued until his victim was standing with his hands raised high above his head once more before he locked the hand crank into position. He listened to the soft moans issuing from the blond and felt a tremor run through his body. A small stream of blood seeped from the corners of Larabee's mouth and he realized he must've bitten the inside of his mouth during the trip back to the mine. He took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the evidence away.

"Sleep well, Christopher, for when I return hell begins again," Maguire vowed as he left the mine.

Albuquerque-2002

Vin sat on the edge of the bed as the nurse removed the IV from his arm. He felt lousy, yet he knew what had to be done, and he wasn't going to let anything stop him. He sucked in a deep breath as the nurse pulled the tape from his arm, removing a thin strip of hairs along with it.

"Sorry," she said as she put pressure on the tiny puncture wound.

"It's okay, Caitlin," he assured her as she placed the bandage on it. He looked up as Doctor Barnes came into the room with a stack of papers in his hands. He could see the man was still angered by his refusal to stay at the hospital, but he couldn't let it deter him from what he had to do.

"I have your paperwork, Mr. Tanner. You need to sign everything and I need a witness to you signing them," Barnes said as he placed the papers on the table.

"Sure, Doc," Tanner found it awkward using his left hand to sign his name, but he managed it. He watched as the doctor went through the papers one last time to make sure everything was in order.

Barnes shook his head as he checked the final paper and finally met the blue eyes once more. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"I can't," the Texan said softly.

"All right." Barnes was resigned to the injured man's determination and he passed over a prescription for painkillers and antibiotics. "Get this filled right away. The painkillers are strong and will make you drowsy. You can take them every four hours if you need to," he heard snickers from the other men in the room and frowned. "Did I say something funny?"

"Well, Doc, you should've left it at taking them every four hours," Dunne said. "Vin don't like taking pills unless he doesn't have a choice."

"I assure you he won't have a choice. He'll need them or he'll be in misery the whole time!" He turned back to the injured man. "The second ones are antibiotics for the infection in the wound. Those must be taken every six hours and there's no choice in that one. I also want to stress how important it is for you to drink plenty of fluids. Dehydration is a serious matter and..."

"I'll drink, Doc," Tanner said, impatient to get underway. The last hour or so of waiting left him feeling as if something had happened to the missing man. Something that would only grow worse the longer he was in Maguire's clutches.

"That's it then. Mr. Jackson, make sure he takes the medications and drinks. If he's having any problems, other than what we discussed, get him to a hospital immediately."

"We will, Doc. Thanks."

"Don't thank me for doing something that goes against everything I believe in. Just make sure he takes it easy. Goodbye, Mr. Tanner, gentlemen," he nodded and left the room, the nurse following closely behind him.

Tanner waited until the doctor left and looked at each of his friends. He could see the worry on their faces, yet he knew they understood how important it was for them to leave now. "Did you get me something to wear?" he asked.

Buck walked to the closet and pulled out a pair of blue jeans and an oversized blue shirt. There was also underwear, socks and a comfortable pair of moccasins. "Let's get you dressed," the ladies' man said as he placed the clothing on the bed. He heard the others leave in order to give them some privacy as he helped ease the hospital gown off the lean shoulders.

Blue eyes met blue eyes and the two friends knew what the other man was thinking. Neither one said a word, yet they took comfort in the fact that they trusted each other with the fate of the missing man. The seven members of The Firm were a makeshift family, but there seemed to be something even more to the relationship between Larabee, Tanner, and Wilmington. Now, with Larabee missing and possibly dying, there was an empty place in their lives.

"We'll find him, Buck," the sharpshooter vowed as Wilmington placed the moccasins on his feet.

"I know we will, Vin. I just hope there's enough of him left to find. Everything about this Maguire points to the classical definition of a serial killer. One whose victims are never found."

"Chris is waiting for us. I can feel him," he explained. "He's hurting, but he's there and he's fighting the son of a bitch."

"At least we have a place to start the search," Wilmington said as he walked to the door.

"Yeah," Tanner said as he waited for the inevitable wheelchair. 'Black Rock Desert is one hell of a big area to search,' he thought. His mind wondered back to the images he'd seen in Four Corners. They'd slowly began to clear up and he'd recognized each of the six figures and knew he was looking at his past, as well as those of his friends. Somehow he knew the reason he didn't see himself there was because his ancestor was with Chris Larabee. He prayed he was right and that his friend was not alone wherever he was.

"Your chariot awaits," Standish said as he came in with a nurse pushing a wheelchair.

Tanner shook his thoughts aside and slid off the edge of the bed as the conman walked towards him.

"Thanks, Ez." He smiled at the gambler as the man helped him into the chair. Within fifteen minutes the six men were in a car and on the way to Albuquerque's Sunport Airport.

+ + + + + + +

Black Rock Desert-2002

A lean form dressed in buckskin eased out of the shadows of the cave and came to stand in front of the injured man. The figure was a shadow of itself and yet he wanted Chris Larabee to know he wasn't alone. That friends both past and present were there and would continue to be there for him. The blue eyes were strong with heartfelt emotions as he reached out to touch the pale cheek. He ran his hand down the darkly colored bruise and knew there would be a long painful journey ahead for this man and his friends. He remembered when they found their own Chris Larabee in a damp cave, strung up much the same as this man was. He remembered the anger and frustration of being forced to listen to the ragged breathing and the soft moans of pain. He watched as the eyelids on the man before him slowly fluttered and a grimace of pain raced across the handsome features.

Chris slowly opened his eyes, knowing instantly that he was in hell, as fire burned in his hip, extending its flame-like tentacles out to encompass every bone in his body. He groaned as the images in the chamber became clearer and the pain became more pronounced as he shifted in the manacles once more. He hissed as he shifted his weight and realized the pain in his right hips was real and not a leftover from the dreams he'd been having. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture left in his mouth. The tip of his tongue protruded from between parched lips as his eyes blinked rapidly. Sweat dripped off golden lashes into green eyes as a low-grade fever continued to burn through his body.

Chris let his eyes slide closed for a few seconds, but opened them again as he realized he'd seen a figure standing in the chamber with him. He tried to make out the lean form, knowing in his heart it was someone who meant a lot to him. He continued to blink the sweat from his eyes made out the dust covered, buckskin clad man in front of him. A tan colored hat hung low over his forehead, but there was no mistaking the limpid pools of blue staring back at him. The long hair hung over his shoulders and there was a strength to the set of the square jaw. He knew he was looking at Vin Tanner, but not his Vin Tanner, yet the worry and concern were written across the handsome face.

"V...in!"

'Yeah, it's me, Cowboy.'

Chris watched the face as it seemed to fade in and out of his vision. He wasn't sure if it was real or his mind playing games on him, giving him something he needed to pull him through. His throat worked to force out the words as his eyes watered and he remembered the hated words spoken a seeming lifetime ago. 'Tanner's dead, Robert!'

"You're not really, Vin. He's dead," he mumbled tiredly.

'I'm not yer Vin, Chris, but I know ya just the same. I know who ya are and what ya've done. I know yer great, great grandfather and I know how proud he is of his namesake. Ya have ta beat this man, Chris, ya can't let him win.'

Chris shifted in the chains and groaned as the bones in his hip grated against each other. "Hu...rts, Vin," he stammered, but kept his eyes on the flickering form.

'I know it does and I ain't gonna lie ta ya. It's probably gonna hurt a lot more before yer friends get here, but ya gotta hang on fer them. The seven of you, together, will be able to stop this madman once and for all. Ya jest gotta draw on their strength.'

Larabee met the determined blue eyes and nodded, regretting the move as pain stabbed at him. He forced a smile to his face as he thought of each man, a frown quickly forming as he pictured the bloodied body of the young sharpshooter.

"There's only six of us now," he whispered regretfully.

'No, Cowboy, there are still seven of ya. Yer Vin is not dead. He's hurt, but Vin, Nathan, Josiah, Ezra, JD and Buck are on their way.'

"Vin...a...live," the injured man asked hopefully, praying the words he heard were true.

'Very much so and he's pissed as hell.'

Chris heard the soft chuckle and couldn't help returning it. Whether this was real or a trick of his fevered mind didn't matter anymore. He clung to the hope that his friend was really alive and that he and the other members of the team would soon be here.

"Vin's gonna be pissed... Nathan too...and B...Buck..."

'Yeah, they are all pissed, but at least when they rescue ya, yer Nathan won't force ya ta drink horse piss.'

The quicksilver laughter was a soothing bomb on the injured man's tortured soul and he smiled in spite of the pain. "Ho...rse piss?"

'Yeah, think I drank a gallon or more of that shit. So did my Chris,' he laughed again and watched the blond.

Chris smiled at the thought of Jackson's ancestor forcing them to drink things they didn't want. He knew instinctively the two men would be a lot alike in how they cared for their friends. He frowned and cried out as the buckskin-clad figure of Vin Tanner slowly faded before his eyes.

'Be strong, Cowboy, they are coming,' the figure said before he disappeared altogether.

Larabee tried to hold onto the fading image as he shifted in his bonds. "Vin! No!" He gasped as a hand touched his right hip, sending the nerves into a frenzy of activity once more. He hissed and tried to move away from the pain, but there was no way he could move without making the pain worse. A new voice entered his pain filled mind and he opened his eyes to meet the cold, dead ones before him.

"Who were you talking to, Christopher?"

"None of y...your fuckin' business!" Larabee groaned as the man moved behind him. He hated not being able to see his enemy, yet he knew he was still there. He could feel Maguire's hot breath on his bare skin as the man's hands ran along his lower back.

"Oh, but it is, Christopher. Everything about you is my business. I know you're alone in here so it must be your imagination running wild." He waited for an answer from his victim, but none came. He slid his hand along the lean waist and let the fingers of his right hand relax over the broken hip. He tapped his fingers lightly on the injury, smiling inwardly as a tremble ran through the lean form. "Does this hurt, Christopher?" Still no answer, except for the low moan escaping from the injured man. "I could give you something to make you forget the pain, but it would also send you on a wild ride. Do you want that?"

Chris listened to the taunting voice and tried to escape the pain the tapping fingers were causing. He gritted his teeth and waited for Maguire to grow tired of the game, but it continued and the torment was grating on his nerves. He wished he could reach out to the darkness and let it embrace him in a warm cloak, but it wasn't happening. The raw torment was keeping him awake and the hated figure behind him was making sure it continued. He was growing used to the pain and didn't notice when the fingers stopped their incessant tapping, until his nemesis walked in front of him once more.

"I think it's time I shared some things from my great, great grandfather's journal with you, Christopher. After all you, or should I say your ancestor have one of the starring roles in it. He was an amazing man, but he was wrong in some of his thinking. It says in The Book he had a destiny with the devil but he was wrong. >From what I read he was the devil himself which would make me the devil's spawn."

"Not devil...sick fu...cking asshole," Larabee muttered softly, yet the words had an undeniable strength to them. His head rocked back as an open handed slap nearly sent him into oblivion.

"Watch your mouth, Christopher. Remember I can..."

"Don't c...care what you can do..."

"Oh, but you will," Maguire assured him as he pulled a chair in front of his victim. He sat and watched as Larabee tried to keep his weight off the injured hip, but eventually gravity won out and a sharp hiss of pain would erupt from the man's mouth. "Maybe my reading from The Book will actually make you forget your own troubles, Christopher," he said. He walked to the shelf, reached for a bottle of Sherry and a glass and placed them on the table beside the chair. Once more he sat and poured himself a drink. He lifted it to his mouth, but before taking a sip he looked into the hate filled green eyes. "Would you like some, Christopher?" he asked in spite of the misgivings the blond's glare was giving him.

Chris continued to meet the man's eyes, but could feel his body weakening with the passage of time. He shifted his weight and gritted his teeth as his right hip protested any movement. He watched as Maguire drank the liquid in the glass, his throat crying out for the moisture his eyes saw.

"You really should have some you know? This could be the last chance you have to enjoy a glass of the finest Sherry ever made." He placed the empty glass back on the table and reached for the old journal. He opened the yellowed pages and looked at his victim once more. "I think we should start with what he wrote about your ancestoryyy.....zzzJuly 1876, I found him today in a little town called Four Corners. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the one. He's dressed completely in black, his eyes so green and deep that I felt the strength and vulnerability in them. What makes him unique is that he won't back down. he met and held my eyes and it was finally me who dropped them. I couldn't hold his glare any longer and still be able to stand. There is so much to this man, I can sense it, feel it. His confidence oozes from his body as he stands up and walks into the saloon. I must find out more about him. I confronted him and his friend in the saloon. I talked to him and his friend. His friend seems cold to me, maybe he senses my plans for his friend. It doesn't matter, I will have what I need. My body is actually tingling with anticipation. I have his name and it was worth the few coins I gave the drunk outside. Chris Larabee has to be the one. He seems so worthy and I am ready to make his soul mine. To prove that I am the only one worthy of owning him. I watched him and his friend work no his house outside of town and knew this would be the perfect place to grab and hold my destiny. To complete what I started so many years ago. To be whole once again. This is My Destiny and yours as well Chris Larabee..... Do you understand what this means, Christopher?" Maguire asked the semi conscious man. "It means that this meeting between us was meant to be. You were destined to die back then, but I could not finish the job. Now I can and I will and you will beg me to end your life for you!" He stood and stalked the short distance to his victim, his dark, dead eyes sparkling with malicious glee as he stood in front of the bound man.

Chris was barely able to keep his eyes on the man standing before him. He was shocked by the words he'd read from the journal, yet it also instilled a sense of hope in him. A hope that had begun with a visit from the past and now seemed to grow from the words written so long ago. He now understood that his Vin was still alive and that they really were coming. He just needed to hang on until they got there. He groaned, as with new determination he stood on his left leg and ignored the stabbing pain emanating from his right hip. He sucked in enough air to satisfy his body and forced everything he had left into his next words.

"W...wrong, Maguire, my great, great grandfather wasn't meant to die by your hands and neither will I! My friends, the SIX of them will come for me!" Chris' gaze never wavered as he glared at the madman.

Maguire saw the truth in his victim's eyes and knew he really believed his friends would come. He'd thought by reading the book and showing Larabee that he really was meant to die by his hands that he would take the last spark of hope from the green eyes. Instead that spark had grown to engulf not only the eyes but the spirit as well. Christopher Adam Larabee was far from the defeated victim he should have been, and Robert Maguire was more than a little afraid.

"Your friends, the five of them may come for you, but they'll find the empty husk of your body. You'll be dead long before they grace the threshold of this mine!" The words were strong and heated, the conviction in them was not, and he felt he'd lost another round to the enigmatic blond. His anger grew as Larabee smiled weakly at him, a smile that said 'I'll humor you for now' and Maguire again struck out.

Chris felt the fisted hand connect with the right side of his face and he embraced the state of unconsciousness knowing his friends were closing in on them.

Maguire stormed from the mine, anger and fear mingling to take the last of his patience. "Tomorrow you die, Christopher Adam Larabee!" he vowed, frowning as he briefly wondered why he just didn't kill him today. He shivered as he felt someone watching him, but there was no one around.

Part 9

Seven shadowy figures stood just inside the entrance to the mine. Each man knew what was to happen the next day. A figure dressed totally in black understood the pain the injured man felt. He turned away from the madman and looked into the dull interior where his great, great grandson had finally lost consciousness. He struggled against the emotions of seeing a man in so much pain and felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

'He'll make it, Chris,' Sanchez told the blond.

'I know, Josiah, but he'll have to live with what that madman is doing to him.' Larabee snarled.

'You made it past that, Chris and he seems to have your strength," Jackson said.

'If I were to endeavor to make a bet on his survival, Mr. Larabee, I would bet on your namesake,' Standish smiled as his hand touched the black duster.

'He'll win, Chris,' Dunne spoke softly as he watched his mentor.

'Come on, ya ol' war dog, we both know how pig headed you Larabee's can be,' Wilmington smiled at his long time friend.

'The others will get here in time, Chris,' the sharpshooter vowed.

Chris felt the strength of friendship and brotherhood and knew the injured man was blessed with the same thing.

The shadows of seven figures faded as they waited for the arrival of the men who would save this Chris Larabee.

+ + + + + + +

Enroute to Reno/Tahoe International airport-2002

The Firm's private jet had been in the air for an hour when Nathan first noticed the grimace of pain on the man in the seat beside him. Without saying a word to Vin Tanner he signaled to the flight attendant and waited for her to come to him.

"What can I get you, Nathan."

"Just a glass of water, please, Jackie."

"Right away," she answered as she looked at the man in the next seat. "How is he?"

"Hurting, but he won't admit it," Jackson explained softly.

"I'm fine, Nate," the sharpshooter said tiredly. He turned away from the two people and tried to get comfortable. Doctor Barnes' words echoed through his mind as he struggled to control the headache and nausea.

"Sure you are, Vin," Jackson said as he took out the bottle of painkillers and dropped two into his hand. He waited for Jackie to bring the glass of water before turning back to the injured man. "Here," he said.

Vin opened his eyes to half-mast and frowned at the medic. "What?"

"Take these."

"Don't need 'em," the Texan whispered, afraid any loud noise would set off the explosion building in his skull.

"Vin, I know you're hurting and I know you want to be able to think, but right now we're thousands of miles in the air and it'll be a while before we reach Reno," he knew it was technically the Reno/Tahoe International airport they were headed for. "At least these will help you get some sleep," he saw the look in Tanner's eyes and knew he was about to refuse again. "Look, Vin, you'll be no help to us if you pass out and end up back in the hospital. At least this way you'll feel a little more human."

The sharpshooter knew the medic was right. He really did feel lousy. He took the pills and placed them in his mouth before taking the glass of water from the flight attendant. He swallowed the them with a full glass of water and passed it back to the pretty flight attendant. "Thanks," he said and let his eyes close once more. He felt his mind drifting and knew somehow he was seeking out the presence that only he could feel. He smiled as he felt the quicksilver resonance that told him Chris Larabee was still alive and waiting for them.

+ + + + + + +

Black Rock Desert-2002

Miles away in a darkening cave a smile graced the pale features of another man. Chris felt the familiar tingling and knew Vin Tanner really was still alive. He realized he'd known it all along, but had been too weak to feel the touch. Now, as he stood in the cave, his back, hip, head, shoulders and ankles throbbing for relief, he knew he wasn't alone. The unconscious man didn't see the smile mirrored on the seven faces from the past, but he felt as if he was being protected. A soft sigh left the battered form as he sank deeper into unconsciousness.

+ + + + + + +

Reno/Tahoe International airport-2002

The airport was a veritable hubbub of activity as the six men disembarked from the jet and moved into the building. They didn't need to stop by the luggage carousel as each man carried in their hands everything they needed. Five sets of hands were ready in case the injured man should falter, but Vin Tanner seemed to stand taller than he had since they'd left the hospital. The pain was still evident on his face and in the set of his shoulders, but they knew it wouldn't stop the sharpshooter from doing what needed to be done.

The building was well lit and they walked to the Hertz rental car booth and quickly filled out the necessary papers that would see them in the control of a 1997 Ford Aerostar van. Josiah would drive the first leg of the journey. JD had brought his laptop along and they now had maps of the area they'd be going to. They knew they'd be searching in sparsely settled areas as Maguire would not want any witnesses to what he was doing. Twenty minutes later, with Vin Tanner sitting in the back seat, the belt tucked gently across his lap, Josiah pulled out into the street and headed away from the airport. They would drive towards Gerlach and begin their search in that general direction.

Vin settled back against the seat, his head throbbing with each heartbeat, his shoulder adding it's own loud protests as he tried to get comfortable. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the worry and concern on the faces of his friends. His stomach was queasy, in spite of the Dramamine pills Nathan had given him, but he knew he needed to concentrate. He forced his own problems aside in order to think straight. There was something they were missing, and he knew if he could pinpoint what it was they'd draw a straight line to where Chris Larabee was being held. He struggled to control his body's pain as he forced himself to think about the strange things occurring around them.

Are you all right, Mr. Tanner?"

Vin forced his heavy lids open and realized the steady swaying of the van had caused him to slip towards sleep and let his guard down. He knew the gambler heard his low moan of pain and smiled at the concern in the green eyes. He forced a slight smile to his pale face as he answered.

"Yeah, Ez, I'm fine, just thinking is all."

"Well if thinking causes you that much pain I would endeavor not to think anymore." Standish returned the smile as Jackson turned in the seat and looked at the two men. Only the passing lights of other cars lighted the interior of the van, yet Nathan knew the sharpshooter was in pain once more. He looked at the bottle nestled in the small compartment between his and Sanchez' seat and reached for the pills.

"I don't need them yet, Nate," Tanner said as he let his eyes slide closed.

"Vin..."

"Nate, I need to think and those things make me feel groggy. I'll tell you when I need them. Okay?"

Jackson knew the young man was telling the truth for a change. He nodded his head and returned his attention to the highway ahead of them.

Buck and JD continued to go over the information stored in the laptop. The route they were taking had been agreed upon by the six of them, yet nothing was set in stone. They knew this journey would not end until they found Chris Larabee, but they were playing things by ear. The strange happenings of the last few weeks would eventually lead them to their missing friend, all they needed to do was set aside their scepticism and listen to what their hearts told them.

Buck watched the kid as his fingers tapped out a staccato rhythm on the keys. Page after page of text, photos and maps were displayed for brief seconds as the young man searched for anything that would help them. He discovered that a man named Mark Winston had befriended Robert Maguire shortly after Maguire acquired The Golden Parrot Casino/hotel in Reno, Nevada. The two men were seldom seen without the other one in attendance. There was talk that they had more than a friendly relationship, but if they did they were very discreet about it.

JD continued to look for information about Maguire in the Reno area, more often than not coming up empty. He'd turned from the search into Maguire's background and was concentrating on Mark Winston. There was something about the name that nagged him, but he couldn't quite place it. He tapped at the keys, the light from the monitor illuminating the small area around him.

Josiah watched the road ahead, searching for the turnoff that would lead them to Gerlach. Once there they'd either get a room for the night or continue on, depending on how they felt or if something new came up. His thoughts once more moved towards the strange things happening around them. Somehow he knew the past and the present were always tied together, but never had he felt so sure of it as he did now. The things he'd felt in Four Corners were more than a hint of what was happening and he'd seen stranger things happen to others. He wondered why people often ignored this gift from God, but he knew in this instance a man's life hinged on all of them believing in the unbelievable. His eyes shifted to the rear view mirror and quickly met the blue eyes of the ladies' man. He saw the same surety in Wilmington's eyes before he shifted his attention back to the road ahead. A road leading to Gerlach, and eventually Chris Larabee.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Black Rock Desert-2002

Chris didn't know if his eyes were open or closed. The darkness was absolute and the silence almost deafening in its non-existence. The air was growing colder and he knew it must be night again. How many nights had passed since he'd been placed in the mine, he didn't know, but each time he woke up he felt weaker. He struggled upwards, forgetting about the injury to his numb hip and cried out as it shifted in its socket. He trembled as his body tried to extract heat from the air around it, but nothing worked. Chris was cold and it felt as if he'd never be warm again. He bit his lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood as the cracked skin broke and bled under the simple assault.

The silence surrounding him was something he could live with, especially since it meant his tormentor was not around. He sucked the dry air into his lungs and coughed as the dust coated them. He knew he was in danger of exposure and what that would mean to him. The cold, the lack of water, and the pain were devastating to him, but once more shadowy movement caught his attention. As impossible as it seemed there was a light in the chamber, yet it didn't illuminate anything. He smiled as the figure walked towards him and he knew he wasn't alone.

'Soon, Chris, very soon,' Tanner assured the injured man.

Larabee met the blue eyes and saw the confidence in them. A confidence he knew he could trust as much as he trusted his own Vin Tanner. He shifted slightly, groaning as pain lanced through his hip, flowing upwards to encompass his chest and head. The minor injuries, including the needle wounds behind his knees, elbows and waist continued to aggravate him, but they were minor compared to the overlying pain in the rest of his body. He forced a smile to his face in spite of the chattering teeth.

"C...ccoldd..." he stammered.

'Yeah, I know ya are. It won't be fer much longer, Cowboy. Trust me.'

"I do tru...st you, Vin, just tired..."

+ + + + + + +

Robert Maguire sat at the table in Mary Winston's home. He knew the following day would see the death of his nemesis, yet he wanted him to suffer more than he already had. He looked once more at the bottle of water before him, It looked like any other bottle of water lining the shelves in supermarkets around the world, yet there was nothing normal about this one. This one held a little something to send Larabee on another round trip to hell and back. He smiled, knowing just what was about to happen. He picked up the bottle and walked out of the house. The smile plastered on his face was not a merry one, but one that promised much suffering for his captive. Steady feet walked across the clearing as a half moon shone down on the white sands. He felt stronger than he'd ever felt in his life. He would soon prove that to himself and that was all that mattered.

The night air chilled his skin, but his mind didn't register that fact as he stepped through the entrance. He could smell death in the area, something he'd always been able to detect and he knew tomorrow would see the life drained from Christopher Adam Larabee. He took a deep breath and stepped into the dark chamber.

+ + + + + + +

'Just hold on for yer friends, Chris. Have faith no matter what happens.'

"Faith? I'm t...trying." Chris heard a sound coming from outside and watched as the image of Vin Tanner faded to black. He knew his tormentor was coming back and he fought back the urge to surrender to the waiting blackness and the comfort of unconsciousness. He hung in the chamber, his eyes focused on the entrance, waiting for the inevitable pain that accompanied Maguire's visits. He heard the man moving around in the darkness and waited expectantly.

Robert Maguire knew his way around the chamber and really didn't need light to show him what he knew was there. He moved to the shelf that housed the lanterns and the candles and set about lighting them. He craved the image of pain he would see on Larabee's face once he fed him the water. He set the lanterns and candles around the chamber, not bothering to speak with his captive. The madman knew the blond was awake, yet he wasn't ready to acknowledge that fact until everything was set. He placed a candle on the table next to the bound man and smiled as he turned towards his victim. It still shocked him when the green eyes managed to meet his. He shook his head and realized he actually admired Larabee's ability to hide his fears. He knew the man must feel fear after everything that was done to him, yet that fear was not evident in the glaring green eyes. Instead he saw a stubborn determination and strength he couldn't fathom, and could not afford to admire.

Chris remained still as the man placed the items around the room, forcing back the shadows and lighting up the reality of his captivity. His eyes followed the hated figure as it moved around, waiting for whatever this man had planned for him next. He watched as Maguire stopped before him and kept his eyes steady as the cold, dead gaze turned towards him.

"How are you feeling, Christopher?" Maguire asked, a hint of fear in his voice as he watched the man who should be cowering from him. There was no answer from the blond and he grew impatient. He shoved against the broken hip and smiled as a sharp hiss of pain tore from his victim. "Not talking today?" his eyebrows rose as his confidence returned with his ability to cause pain. "Well that's okay. I don't need you to talk, just to drink. I've got some water here for you. Do I need to go through the same routine as the last time or will you drink it willingly?"

"Fu...ck you!" Chris couldn't stop the defiant words from leaving his mouth in spite of his body's craving for water.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Christopher," Maguire laughed as he walked to the table and picked up the bottle of water. "It's much more pleasurable when I have to force you to drink it. At least for me it is. You see this one contains a little more of the LSD," he saw a hint of fear in Larabee's eyes and smiled at the power he held over him. "I figured I'd send you on one more trip before I take your life tomorrow. I'm still confident I can get you to beg me to kill you, to stop the pain, but it's not imperative that you do so anymore. All that is required is your death at my hands."

Chris swallowed and again clamped down on his teeth as Maguire moved to stand beside him. He tried to shift away from his tormentor, landed on his right leg, and cried out as pain traveled a straight line from the damaged area to his brain. He felt Maguire's hand in his hair, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. His world had just exploded into a jumble of pain, and he could no longer distinguish one from the other. His breath came in hitching gulps as something was poured into his mouth. He knew he needed to expel the liquid, yet a hand quickly replaced the bottle and clamped down on his mouth. His eyes opened wide as he tried not to swallow, but his body betrayed him and the liquid flowed down his throat. The relief it gave his arid mouth paled when compared to what the drug would do to him. Green eyes were forced open once more as the madman released his mouth. He could feel tears streaming from his eyes as the pain in his hip continued to gnaw at his raw nerves. He knew he was not going to die, yet he wasn't sure if that was such a good thing anymore. He saw the bottle in Maguire's hands and realized he'd drank over half of the LSD laced water. He stood tall on his left leg and forced himself to meet the madman's gaze.

"Coward!" he snarled, amazed at how much strength he managed to put into the heated word.

"Oh, no, Christopher, I am not a coward. I see what I want and I go after it. If someone gets in my way I make them regret the day they laid eyes on me. I've killed a few men in my life, but none has ever showed the strength you have. I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps my great, great grandfather was right and that I can somehow harness that spirit and strength of soul you have," he stood watching as Larabee's eyes began to glaze over and knew the drug was beginning to affect his mind. He sat back in the chair and waited for the drug-induced trip to begin.

Chris licked his lips as the first of the drug-induced hallucinations began. He watched as Maguire turned into a monster before his eyes and almost laughed at the irony of it. He knew he couldn't trust what he was seeing anymore, but that didn't make it any less real. He cried out as tiny spiders appeared on his bare chest. He screamed as mouths opened in the tiny creatures and revealed razor sharp rows of teeth. Snickering laughter seemed to escape each tiny mouth as they clamped down on the skin covering his chest.

Maguire smiled as Larabee's gaze dropped to his chest. "What are you seeing, Christopher?"

Green eyes opened wide as terror washed over him. His vision blurred as he closed his eyes to block out the image, but it didn't work. Instead his mind conjured up pain as the pincher like mandibles drove into his flesh, the unlikely spiders boring into his chest. "NO!" he screamed, his eyes widening in fear as more of the tiny arachnids joined the ones already on his chest. He felt consciousness slipping away, even as he felt the creatures devouring his heated flesh, yet there was no relief as his eyes widened once more and a scream left his ravaged throat.

Maguire knew the blond was seeing things he could not, and he smiled as his victim's screams weakened to the point of whimpering cries. The power he held over his captive felt right, something that was destined to happen. He ran his fingers over the bruised torso, knowing his fingers were adding to the raging hallucinations brought on by the drug. He sank back in the chair to watch the tormented figure before him.

+ + + + + + +

Vin shifted in the back seat as they entered the town of Gerlach. He'd finally given in to the need for relief and taken the offered painkillers. They were parked outside a small town and Vin frowned as he looked at a sign outside the window.

yyyWhere The Pavement Ends and the West Begins.zzz

A figure dressed in black blended with the shadows underneath the sign and he wondered why he could see him so clearly. "Chris," he said softly.

'Hurry, Vin, you boys need to move a little faster.'

"Is Chris..."

'He's still alive, but Maguire's doing a number on him.'

"Can ya tell us where he is?"

'I wish I could, Vin, but I've never been to this place and I can't tell you the name of it, but you're close. Just make Josiah go a little faster. JD knows, Vin, he just has to search his subconscious for something he passed over.'

The figure faded and Vin opened his eyes, surprised to actually see the sign announcing the town of Gerlach. He knew they were supposed to spend the night here and head out at first light. Those plans were about to change. "Josiah."

Sanchez glanced into the rear view mirror at the soft call of his name. "What's wrong, Vin?"

"We need to keep going."

"Vin, you need to rest," Jackson warned.

Vin could feel Wilmington staring at him and knew he felt the same urgency. "We have to keep going, Nathan. If we don't none of this matters because Chris will be dead."

"How do..." Jackson stopped as he realized he was questioning something they'd all accepted as true. "We need to stop for gas and pick up more supplies."

"JD?"

"Yeah, Vin."

"There's something we've missed and only you know what it is," Tanner told him.

"Me?"

"Think, JD, all those names you've been reading. There's got to be one that stands out," the Texan told him.

"I don't..." the kids eyes widened suddenly and he looked at the ladies man sitting beside him. The confidence in the blue eyes told JD he trusted him. His eyes searched each member of the team and stopped on the gambler. Again he was shocked at the confidence there. He looked down at the screen and returned to the list of names he'd called up.

"There's so many," he whispered.

"Trust your instincts, JD," the gambler said. "We know there are some strange things going on and we've come too far to doubt ourselves now. I know I'm believing in things mother would be appalled at if she knew, but there's just too much going on to ignore it."

JD felt the van stop, but didn't take his eyes off the screen. His eyes continued to return to one name and he tapped the letters on the keyboard. He waited for the information to come up on the screen and gasped at what he saw.

"I got him!" he said, excitement making his voice sound boyish as he looked from one agent to another.

"Who is it?" Wilmington asked.

"Mark Winston. His uncle had a small place in the Black Rock Desert. Josiah, we need to get on that dirt road we passed and head towards Sulphur. I don't have an exact location, but the property is somewhere between Sulphur and Winnemucca. There's just nothing that tells me exactly where it is."

"It's okay, Son, we'll know when we get there," Sanchez said as he got out of the van and proceeded to fill the gas tank. He watched as Jackson went into the small store attached to the station and knew the medic was replenishing the supplies they'd need. Fifteen minutes later they were back on the road, more confident than ever they'd soon find the missing man. They knew once they found Chris it would only be a matter of calling the local authorities and the state police would be there to help them.

+ + + + + + +

A buckskin clad figure, unseen by Robert Maguire, reached out to break the hold the drug had on the injured man.

Maguire watched as his victim suddenly went limp in the manacles and he swore softly. He looked at the bottle and frowned as he realized Larabee should've had plenty of the drug in him to continue the magic ride he'd been on, but somehow it had been cut short. He threw the bottle across the chamber and touched the lean chest, relieved that his victim still breathed, but angered that he'd lost his entertainment. He strode from the mine and walked back to the house as the first streaks of dawn heralded the start of a new day.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah drove through the town of Sulphur, his stomach churning as he steered along the dirt road. He knew they were nearing the completion of a trip that transcended the boundaries of time, yet as impossible as it seemed, it was happening.

"We're getting close," Jackson said softly as he sat up further in his seat. "You feel it too, don't you?"

"I think we all do," Standish said from the back seat. He'd been watching the sleeping sharpshooter beside him and knew the man was beginning to wake up.

"Keep an eye out for a turnoff," Buck said as the sun climbed above the horizon.

"It's not far from here," Dunne agreed as he closed his laptop and sat forward in his seat. Dust billowed up from the tires as Sanchez picked up speed.

"Josiah, turn here," the tracker ordered, pain and worry etched on his pale face. He wasn't surprised when Sanchez put on the turn signal even as he said the words. Vin could feel the tension in the van as each man seemed to be leaning forward in his seat, as if it would bring them to the end of the ethereal journey they were on, that much sooner.

+ + + + + + +

'Chris.'

The blond heard someone calling his name as if through a heavy thickness of fog. His mind seemed engulfed in mire, so thick he couldn't think straight.

'Chris!'

The voice was a little stronger now and held a sense of urgency. Still he couldn't shake the cobwebs from his fevered mind. "C...can't..." he stammered as he fought what he knew would be a painful awakening.

'Yes, you can, Cowboy. They're almost here.'

'Too m...much, V...Vin," the dry throat barely had the strength to force the words out and yet the eyelids began to flutter.

'Ya ain't never been a fuckin' quitter, Lar'bee and I ain't about ta let ya start now! Get that head up and show this madman what it means ta be a Lar'bee!'

In spite of the pain he knew awaited him he could not deny the Texan. He forced his eyes open halfway and finally managed to focus on the vague figure standing before him. "M...means as much ta be a Lar'bee as it does ta be a Tanner!"

'Reckon it does at that. Now ya keep thinkin' 'bout what it means ta be a Lar'bee and ya stay strong. Ain't never lied ta ya and I ain't gonna start now. Yer friends are almost here, but they won't make it 'fore that madman returns. He's got plans fer ya, Chris, plans I can't stop, but if'n ya can stay as strong as my Chris did ya'll make it through. Draw on our strength and don't let him beat ya!'

"I'll try," Larabee said as the figure faded once more. He heard sounds outside the entrance and knew 'hell on earth' was about to get worse.

+ + + + + + +

Robert Maguire picked up the tools he wanted to use on his victim. He picked up the cane he'd used earlier on his captive, a scalpel, Mark Winston's knife, and a small branding iron. He tucked them into the bag he held and zipped it closed. He looked at The Book on the table and lovingly picked it up. Today was the day he would prove he was better than his ancestors, today he would kill Christopher Adam Larabee. It was also the day he would hear the confident blond beg for his own life. There was little doubt in the madman's mind that he could do this. It felt right, it felt good, it felt like he'd been born to be Larabee's lord and master and today he would be both of those things. He slung the bag over his shoulder, held The Book close to his heart and walked out the door. He took in a deep breath of the early morning air before looking towards the entrance to the mine.

"It's time, Christopher," his voice promised a day of misery for the battered blond.

+ + + + + + +

"He's close by," Tanner gasped as he held onto his shoulder. The road they'd turned onto was little more than an old horse trail, but Sanchez continued to keep up the pace. The tension was thick in the cabin of the Ford Aerostar as six men held their collective breaths.

Jackson pulled out his cell phone and placed a call to the authorities in Gerlach. The police there had been warned they were coming and promised to help in any way they could. He dialed the number and waited for the call to be answered on the other end. He asked for Barry Lawrence and breathed a sigh of relief when the captain picked up almost instantly.

"Captain, it's Nathan Jackson.....Yes, Sir, that's right.....Yeah, we're pretty certain we know where he is and we're hoping you would get things rolling from your end." He knew the others were listening intently to his side of the conversation and he would explain the other end of it after he was finished. "Yes, Sir, we're driving east of Sulphur about halfway between it and Winnemucca.....Yeah, the old dirt road.....We're looking for an old homestead owned by Mary Winston.....Yes, Sir, her nephew is involved with the man we think is behind this.....Probably need a medivac chopper out here as well.....At least two patients.....Yeah, we will.....Thanks, Captain.....We do too, Sir." He turned off the power on the cell and turned to the others. "He's sending out a couple of cars and he's put in a call to medivac."

"Two patients, Nate?" Dunne asked.

Jackson pointed to the sharpshooter whose teeth were clenched tightly as he held onto his shoulder. The blue eyes were closed and furrows of pain lined the pale face.

"Oh," Dunne said simply as he turned back to the road.

"Josiah, we're on the right road. Captain Parker says it's approximately an hours drive from where we turned onto the dirt road."

'Hang on, Cowboy,' Tanner sent across the quicksilver connection as he rubbed his hand against his throbbing shoulder.

+ + + + + + +

Chris smiled as he felt the touch and whispered 'I'm still here, Vin, don't know for how long. I hear Maguire coming back. Hurry, Cowboy!' he sent back.

+ + + + + + +

"He's still alive, but Maguire's with him," Tanner informed the others without opening his eyes.

"Son of a bitch!" the ladies' man swore; anger and worry etched on his face.

"Easy, Buck, we're almost there..." Jackson began.

"We have to keep believing he'll be alive and waiting for us when we get there or this was all for nothing. The tings we've seen are showing us Chris will not die today if we believe in...believe in destiny. He is not destined to die today or anytime in the near future."

"Mr. Sanchez is right. Just keep believing in Chris and ourselves and the things happening around us and we'll all make it threw this," Standish told them.

'Not much longer, Stud. Just hang on for us...for me...for all the times I'll need you to get my ass out of deep shit,' Wilmington thought as the tires ate up the road, closing the distance between them and their missing leader.

+ + + + + + +

Chris lifted his head as the hated man walked into the chamber. The man was dressed entirely in white and Chris was reminded of the Glad commercials. The man was always dressed in white as he spoke of the strength of Glad garbage bags. He laughed as he looked Maguire in the eye. "More like Howdy Fuckin' Doody," he mumbled.

"What was that, Christopher?" Maguire asked as he placed the bag and The Book on the table.

Chris refused to acknowledge the man's question, instead he tracked him as he walked around the chamber. He knew his friends were near, could feel them closing in on their location. He didn't question why he could feel them or the certainty that they would get there before he died. That's all he wanted, to see the faces of his family before he surrendered to his own death. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever this Devil's Spawn had in mind it didn't bode well for him. He watched as Maguire lit a tiny fire in the center of the chamber and frowned as he placed something in the center of the flames. He knew what it was and he knew what this madman planned to do, at least he knew part of it.

Maguire could feel the green eyes glaring into his back as he placed the branding iron in the red-hot flames. "You know what this is, Chris? It's what I'm gonna use to mark you. It'll be a reminder to anyone who finds you that you sacrificed your life for your Lord and Master."

"No one...will be...believe that," Larabee hissed as the man stood away from the fire once more.

"Believe what, Christopher. That I am your Lord and Master." He stood in front of the sweat soaked blond and smiled at the flush of fever on the handsome face. "It don't really matter what everyone else believes. What matters is what you believe and more importantly, what I know. You see, Christopher, I've had a lot of experience over the years with causing pain," he said and once more shoved against the blond's broken hip. He smiled at the sharply drawn breath and the watery film covering the green eyes. "Pain has a remarkable way of influencing the way a man thinks. By the time I'm through with you, you'll not only beg me to end your life, but you'll admit who I am."

"Fuck you!" Larabee snarled as pain lanced through his body.

"Not likely. We shall see if you feel the same way when we're through. What shall we start with?" Maguire went back to the table and began pulling things from the bag. His hand ran down the length of the cane and he smiled at the remembrance of the cries of pain it elicited from the blond. He turned back to his victim and slapped the cane onto his open palm. He smiled as he thought he saw the blond flinch, but it disappeared before he could be sure. "This will do nicely," he said as he stood in front of the blond once more. "Can you stand the feel of this on your body once more, Christopher?" he asked as he ran the tip down Larabee's taut chest. He smiled at the slight tremor in the lean body, knowing it was an involuntary reaction.

"Do you remember how this felt, Christopher? How it felt as it struck your bare skin?" He watched the eyes, searching for any sign he had power over him. Still the eyes seemed to blaze with a life of their own as Larabee's gaze never wavered. His frustration at being denied the emotions he sought made him lash out and he brought the cane down across captive's bare chest and shoulders. Over and over he struck, ignoring the feeble cries emanating from the battered form. He stopped only when he ran short of breath. He leaned heavily on his knees and smiled as he noticed his victim's downcast eyes.

His chest was on fire, his arms and shoulders burning from the numerous lash marks inflicted on him, yet he knew what he had to do. He forced his head up once more until his tear filled eyes met those of his captor. His dry tongue darted past his cracked lips as he forced words past his ravaged throat.

"You c...can do w...what you w...want you, Bastard, but I'll n...never..."

"SHUT UP!" Maguire shouted as he lashed out with the cane once more. This time it landed across the broken bone in the hip and Chris could not hold back the scream that erupted from his throat.

+ + + + + + + ~`

"Jesus, Josiah! How much further?" the tracker cried out as his hand pressed tightly to his shoulder.

"There's a house up ahead," Jackson answered for the ex-preacher.

"That's gotta be the place!" Dunne cried as the Aerostar raced across the white sands.

A cry of rage and pain erupted from the solemn ladies man as he felt something he hadn't expected. He doubled over as he saw seven men, seven very familiar men standing before the house. He knew they were the men from his dreams and he also knew they were from his past, a past that was helping bring about the rightful destiny that should have been theirs. Chris Larabee was not meant to die today and somehow the thirteen of them would make sure it didn't happen. He opened the door and bolted from the van before it came to a complete stop. His stomach heaved and he vomited the contents onto the dry sands where whatever moisture was present was greedily sucked up by the land.

"Fuck!" he swore as he stood up and looked around. The figures were gone but his eyes were drawn to the dark entrance in the hillside five hundred yards from the house in front of him. "There!" he shouted as the others joined him.

"Vin, stay put!" Jackson warned as the pale young man climbed out of the back seat.

"H...have to be t...there!" Tanner stammered as he saw a figure dressed in black standing near the opening he knew would lead to his friend. "All of us!" He started forward, ignoring the weakness and pain encroaching on him. "T...thanks, Ez," he said weakly as the gambler pulled his left arm over his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around the sharpshooters waist.

"Anytime, Mr. Tanner," Standish assured him as he took most of the sharpshooter's weight on his shoulders. He watched the others racing towards the dark entrance, smiling as he realized seven dust covered cowboys stood waiting for them. It was something he wouldn't question in spite of his once sceptic attitude. He knew the Ace of Spades was in his pocket and as long as he held onto it the seven of his time, would remain seven.

+ + + + + + +

Maguire dropped the cane and used his fists and blow after blow landed on Chris Larabee. Bruises that were beginning to fade on his cheek brightened and expanded as new ones formed. Blood ran from cracked lips, ribs broke under the onslaught of the angered man's attention. Once more Maguire stood back and smiled as the head remained leaning forward on the lash marked chest.

'Chris, ya have ta look him in the eye. Ya need ta lift yer head.'

"C...can't, Vin, c...an't."

Maguire heard a raspy sound coming from his captive, but couldn't make out the words. He walked back to the table, carefully stepping over the blood drenched weapon he'd already used.

'Ya have ta, Chris,'

"Hu...rts.."

'I know it does, Chris, but the others are here. Hang on a few minutes longer and look Maguire in the eye or yer lost and all of this was fer nothin'. Yer friends will know ya died because they failed and they'll have ta learn ta live with that guilt.'

"No!"

'Then lift yer head, Cowboy. Jest one more time and ya'll be able ta rest.'

"T...try," Larabee said and put everything he had into the effort. He could feel the buckskin clad form sending him strength.

Maguire turned back to his victim with Mark Winston's knife in his hand. He gasped as he watched the impossible happening before his eyes. Larabee was forcing his head up once more. Defiance glistened in the set of his jaw and the bright green eyes glaring daggers at him once more. He looked at the knife in his hand and knew the time was at hand. He now knew he would never hear Chris Larabee beg for his life or admit to him being his natural Lord and Master. He'd failed in this, the same way his ancestor had, but that's where the similarities would end. He took a deep breath and stood in front of the blond.

"I may have failed to make you beg, Christopher, but I will not fail to kill you." He lifted the knife over his head and brought it slashing towards the heavily bruised and lash marked torso.

+ + + + + + +

A scream reached the ears of the six men hurrying towards the mine entrance. A cry of rage erupted from each throat as they knew beyond a doubt who the scream emanated from. Shaky legs found new strength as the six men made it to the opening just a cracking sound emanated from inside the mine.

"No!" Vin cried out as he lurched away from Standish's hold and tried to enter the mine.

"Vin, you can't! It's collapsing!" Dunne called and he tried to step in front of the advancing sharpshooter.

"It'll hold!" the tracker cried as Sanchez's strong arms wrapped around his waist. "Godammit, Josiah, let me fuckin' go!" Creaking sounds continued to escape the faltering mine, dirt and dust billowing out of the entrance as Tanner struggled in the arms of the ex-preacher. He searched for the blue eyes he knew would understand and finally came to rest on the ladies' man. "Buck, we have to!"

"Vin, I..."

"We've come this far on faith!" Tears were flowing from the injured man's eyes as he stopped fighting the steel grip holding him immobile. "We..." he groaned, his left hand reaching up to grab at the pain lancing through his skull. He turned away and vomited onto the dry ground. Breathing deeply he lifted his head and saw seven shadows standing out against the darker entrance to the mine.

'There's still time!' the black clad man told him.

"There's still time!" Tanner repeated Larabee's words as he stood tall. "We can do it. Look!" He pointed to the entrance and heard his friend's collective gasps. "They've been here all along. Have faith in them!" He felt Sanchez relax his hold and once more supportive arms wrapped around his waist.

Buck drew his gun, glad to see Standish and Dunne do the same as they acknowledge their renewed faith in the strange happening. Six men headed into the dark maw that seemed to be beckoning to them.

Vin fought to put one foot in front of the other as Jackson added his support to Sanchez' and they followed the others into the mine.

Part 10

Chris screamed as the blade sank into his right shoulder, unaware of the fear that formed on Maguire's face. All he knew was the new pain was adding to his misery, but he needed to keep his eyes on his captor. Everything came down to a strength of will and having faith in his friends, both old and new. He forced his eyes open, feeling warm blood flowing from the wound. His eyes met Maguire's once more as the man went to pull the blade from his shoulder.

Robert Maguire could not understand why his aim had been deflected. He'd raised his hand over his head and brought it down towards the taut chest, but at the last minute his aim faltered. The knife embedding in his victim's shoulder instead of dead center of the X he'd made with the cane. He reached for the handle protruding from Larabee's flesh, but a sound outside the entrance caught his attention and he turned away from his victim.

Chris let his eyes slide closed and a thin smile adorned his battered features as he recognized the voices from outside. He knew instinctively who was out there and took a deep breath in spite of the pain in his chest. He knew ribs had bent and broken under Maguire's fists, yet he found the strength to face the pain and let it keep his mind clear.

"You feel them too, don't you?" Larabee whispered as the madman turned back to him.

"They won't stop me Christopher. I will not fail like my ancestor did. You die right here, right now!" the madman vowed as he walked to a shelf, frowning as a screeching sound came from overhead and dust and dirt billowed down around him. 'Can't fail,'he thought as he reached for the gun on the shelf. Long slender fingers wiped the dust and dirt from the weapon. He didn't know where it originally came from, but the white handled colt had been his property since he discovered it in an Old West novelty shop seven years before. He caressed the handle and walked back to his captive as footsteps sounded at the entrance to the chamber. His eyes darted to the branding iron still nestled in the flames and regretted that he wouldn't get to use it on his victim. He looked into the green eyes and saw a strength in them he knew he'd never possess. 'Perfection!'he thought simply.

"Don't fuckin' do it!" Wilmington hissed as he entered the chamber. Dust and debris fell around him, but his eyes were drawn to the bound man. "Oh, God, Chris," he muttered as he brought his weapon to bare on Robert Maguire.

"You can't stop me!" Maguire hissed as he lifted the gun and pointed it at his victim's head.

Buck heard the sounds of footsteps beside him, the heavy breathing of everyone involved, but only acknowledged the sound of a cocking pistol. "NO!" he snarled as he pulled back on the trigger of his own weapon. The bullet discharged from the weapon and the men watched as if everything was happening in slow motion. It felt as if they could track the bullet's progress as it left the barrel and made a direct line to Maguire's waiting flesh.

Chris knew he needed to watch what was happening, but the adrenalin rush that kept him on his feet was quickly disappearing, leaving him weak and trembling. He watched as the white handled Colt came up and still he met the dead eyes of the madman. He waited, his body rigid as it anticipated the inevitable impact of a bullet. He could see his six friends enter the chamber and knew Wilmington was screaming at Maguire. A blast shattered the silence and he gasped as his strength gave out and he sagged in the chains, his shoulders now holding his dead weight.

"Chris!" Tanner shouted as he tore from Sanchez and Jackson's hold. He registered the fact that Maguire was sinking to his knees at the same time Chris sagged against the overhead beam. He felt the strength leaving his own body, yet he couldn't give into the weakness until he knew his friend was alive. He heard Maguire slip the rest of the way to the floor and the gun fall to the ground beside him.

Jackson hurried forward and stepped in front of the team leader as Sanchez rushed to support the tracker once more.

"We need to get him out of here, now!" Jackson shouted above the rendering cracks of overhead beams. "Buck, see if he has the keys!" the medic shouted, not wanting to chance another gunshot in the rapidly weakening chamber.

Wilmington knelt beside the man he'd just shot and searched through the pockets. 'Thank God,' he silently prayed as his hands fell on a set of old keys. "I got 'em, Nathan," he said as he hurried forward.

"Give 'em to me. You and Ezra are gonna have to support him once I release the chains. Josiah, Get Vin out of here!" he shouted as more and more dust, chunks of rock, and rotted wood fell around them.

"N...no, all need to b...be here. Get him down, Nathan!"

"Vin's right," Sanchez said as he saw the seven shadows standing at the darkest corner of the chamber.

JD frowned as he noticed one of the shadows point to something on the floor in front of him. Not understanding why, the young easterner picked up the white handled Colt and held it in his grasp. He had no understanding of why this seemed important, yet he didn't question why he'd been told to do it.

Buck and Ezra stood on either side of Chris Larabee. Neither man could see an unmarked place on his upper body and both were afraid to touch the victim. Buck was on the side where a knife protruded from Larabee's shoulder and he knew they shouldn't remove it. His eyes were drawn to the livid bruise on Larabee's hip and he drew Jackson's attention to it.

"Dammit! Look, it's gonna hurt no matter how we do this! Hold him now!" Jackson ordered as he reached above Larabee's head and released him from the beam. "Okay, you two, get him out of here! Josiah, bring Vin! JD, get out now!"

Buck and Ezra lifted the injured man into their arms, biting their lips in an effort to ignore the weak cries of pain and the gasping breath as they rushed from the chamber. Although painful to hear it was evidence that Chris Larabee was still with them. They raced into the bright sunlight and nearly collapsed with relief as Josiah, Vin, JD, and Nathan joined them.

"Where do we put him, Nathan?" Buck asked worriedly.

"Let's get him into the house!" Jackson ordered. "Josiah, bring Vin along!"

"S...si...ck."

Wilmington heard the weak gasp and turned to Jackson. "Nathan, he ain't gonna make it to the house."

JD didn't wait for instructions as he left the others standing where they were. He ran to the house and shoved open the door. He ran into the slightly cooler interior and searched for anything they could use. His eyes fell on an open door leading into a bedroom. He ran across the foyer and into the room, grabbing the blankets and pillows from the unmade bed. He turned from the room and raced back to join the others.

"Mr. Jackson, he's gonna throw up." Standish eased his grip in order to let the injured man turn his head slightly as dry heaves wracked his body. His eyes looked at the blond, sympathy for his plight written on his normally steadfast poker face. He knew these men would not think less of him for his emotional display as he let the tears stream from his eyes.

Chris could feel six pairs of eyes watching him and knew he was safe, something he hadn't felt in a long time, yet he also felt things were not quite over. He saw the seven shadowy images near the entrance to the mine and smiled thinly. They were there to help and as long as he let them everything would be okay. He sucked in a deep breath as he was eased to the ground. He looked into the eyes of the youngest member of his team and smiled weakly. "T...thanks...Kid," he stammered through cracked lips. He groaned as a deep cough erupted from his chest and he tried to wrap his arms around himself.

"Just lie still, Chris," Jackson ordered as he placed his hand on the team leader's arm. "Josiah, put Vin down here beside him."

"V...Vin," Larabee tried to speak, but it came out as a rasping whisper.

"R....right here, Cowboy," Tanner said as he was eased down beside the battered blond.

"T...thought you w...were dead."

Tanner smiled in spite of the agony raging through his head and shoulder. "Ain't that easy to kill."

"Me e...either," Larabee gasped as his mind once more registered the pain invading every nerve ending in his body. The signals to his brain were overwhelming as new injuries registered in his mind. "F...uck!" he swore as he tried to curl into a ball. He could feel hands touching him and trying to sooth some of the pain from his body, but there was no relief from the terrifying feeling that death was closing in on him.

+ + + + + + + ~`

'Dying!' he thought as he felt blood run from the wound in his back. 'Have to finish it!' He rolled onto his side and finally made it onto his stomach. He set his mind to ignore the pain in his back as he stood up. A creaking moan from overhead once more announced the immanent collapse of the mine. He looked around the chamber, his eyes coming to rest on The Book and he hurried to pick it up. He moved to the well stocked shelf and picked up the second gun he'd kept there. This was a newer acquisition and he wished he still had the Colt. It had seemed fitting that he kill Christopher Adam Larabee with the battered old weapon, but it was not to be. There was no pain now, just a deep sense that things were about to end. Proof once and for all that he was a better man than his ancestor was within his grasp. He held The Book in his left hand and placed it over his heart as he walked towards the entrance. A rock struck his temple and blood seeped from the tiny cut there, but the pain never registered. For Robert Maguire things would end just outside the entrance to the mine. When all was said and done, Robert Maguire and Christopher Larabee would both be dead.

+ + + + + + +

"Nathan!" the sharpshooter hissed as Larabee suddenly went quiet, his body tense and rigid.

Jackson reached for the blond's neck and felt the tiny flutter of a pulse there. "He's still with us, Vin," he assured the worried man.

Chris could hear them talking, yet his eyes were glued to the entrance of the mine. Seven figures stood silently watching him and he knew the time of reckoning was at hand. He lifted his left hand and reached for the gun tucked into the young Bostonian's pants.

Vin knew something was happening as he too watched the figures at the mine entrance. He looked from them to Larabee, to Larabee's long fingers closing over a white handle sticking up from JD Dunne's pants. It seemed as if Chris's hands were the only thing moving as he pulled the gun from its resting place. Vin sighed and struggled upwards, frowning as Jackson didn't stop him. With his left arm he reached out and dragged the battered form upwards. He let Larabee lean against his own chest, ignoring the reawakened pain in his shoulder.

"N...nearly time, V...in!"

"I know, Chris! Here come the others!"

Larabee and Tanner watched as the seven figures seemed to glide towards them. They knew why these men were there and knew with their touch they'd gain the strength they needed to end everything, here and now. He saw each figure place a hand on his own namesake and smiled as Chris looked into the eyes of his great, great grandfather.

'You can do it, Son,' the black clad man said and placed his hand on Larabee's shoulder.

'Hang on to him, Son' the buckskin clad man said as he placed his hand on Tanner's shoulder.

'Here he comes,' the seven shadowy forms hissed as one. They sent their own strength into their namesakes and waited for destiny and fate to make things right.

Nothing moved as seven men from the past surrounded seven figures form the present. Their images were barely noticeable yet there was little doubt of their presence as a dark figure stepped from the cave. Time stood still as fate made up her fickle mind as to who would win this day.

Maguire moved into the framed opening of the mine. Blood continued to flow from the wound in his back, his body shook as sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes, cold and deadly, sought out and held the contact he wanted. He was oblivious to everything, but the blond man sitting on the ground in front of him. "I will not fail!" he shouted as something clamped down on his arm, steadying the tremors in his hand. He knew who was with him as sure as he knew who was surrounding his victim. A shadow stood beside him, the arm outstretched and touching him as he watched the changing patterns before his eyes. "You die, Christopher!" he gasped as he felt his ancestor sending him the strength he needed to finish what had started over 100 years in the past.

Fourteen figures watched as the man who'd tormented Chris Larabee in July 1876 joined his own great, great grandson.

Chris felt the strength shift slightly and once more met his ancestor's gaze. Both sets of green eyes sent the message that it would end today. Robert Maguire would meet his destiny and fate at the hands of the men grouped around Chris Larabee.

Maguire watched as the shadows of the past mixed with the reality of the present and knew the time had come. He held The Book tight to his chest as he felt the form next to him help lift his right arm.

'Are you ready to meet your Destiny, Chris' the shadow asked.

'You're not my destiny, Maguire, but we are yours!' the black clad man said as he felt his hand join the three others on the gun held tightly in his namesake's hand. The gun came up, inch by inch until it was pointed at the figures before them.

'Now!' the spectral Maguire hissed.

"Burn in hell where you belong!" Fourteen voices spoke the words as a single shot rang out.

The ground quickly sucked up the offering of moisture as a rogue wind blew sand and dust around the silent forms huddled on a single blanket.

Robert Maguire looked down at The Book, not quite understanding where the hole came from. His eyes misted as pain lanced from beneath the ruined journal and he let his hand drop. He heard a soft cry of rage from beside him and frowned as the shadow of his ancestor faded before his eyes. Still nothing registered in his mind until he looked at the seven men in front of him. His eyes grew wide as the shadows beside them grew stronger.

"NO!" he cried out as the gun he held dropped from his hand. He stood frozen in place as his life seeped from his body and dropped to the greedy, waiting sands. His legs could no longer support his weight and he sank to his knees as the gun slid from numbed fingers. His eyes lingered on one man and for a second he thought he was seeing double. Sudden realization came with the flash of pain in his chest. He knew beyond a doubt who this man was. His ancestor's victim had come back to save his own great, great grandson. His eyes slowly lost focus as he finished the final journey of his life and his lifeless body lay on the hot sand, as the wind around him died as quickly as appeared.

Chris felt the presence beside him as the winds of time shifted. He felt nothing right now, no pain, no fear, no worries, but he knew it wouldn't last long. He met the eyes of his ancestor and knew the other six men were looking into their own pasts.

"Thank you," Larabee said and saw an unmistakable smile cross the shadowy figure dressed in black. A simple nod of the head was his answer as both past and present Larabee's looked towards the body. Two sets of green eyes fell on The Book and Chris looked at the fading image beside him. "What do we do with it?" he asked as the pain began to seep past his defences.

'Burn it. It won't end until that bastard's words are vanquished the same way he was.' He smiled as his namesake nodded his head. 'You've got good friends here, Son,' he said as Tanner and Larabee passed him the Colt. The weapon went from solid to shadow as it passed from one pair of hands into the hands of its rightful owner.

"The best," Larabee agreed as his eyes met those of the gunslinger one final time.

'You'll be fine now, Chris. Just accept the help of your friends and you'll make it through. I'm proud of you!' the man in black stood up and placed the Colt back in the holster where it belonged.

The two Magnificent Seven Firm Agents watched as their counterparts joined The Magnificent Seven Peacekeepers from the past. A simple nod of fourteen heads was all that was needed. The Seven shadows moved to other shadows and each man recognized the familiar outline of horses. They mounted up, turned away from their namesakes and rode away. The sun blocked out the final leg of their journey back to their own time.

The seven men remained where they were for a full minute before a gasp from the blond brought Jackson back to the present. He moved to sit beside the two injured men. "Buck, ease Chris off Vin and lie him back on he pillows.

"N...no..." Larabee stammered as he tried to sit forward. The pain had a stronger grip on him now, but there was one more thing he needed to see done.

"Chris, I need to check you out!" Jackson ordered.

"G...gotta see it fin...ished," the blond hissed.

"See what finished, Chris?" Tanner asked as his own pain came back to life.

"Burn....Gotta...bu...rn...it!"

"Burn what?" Wilmington asked worriedly.

"Book...burn it..."

Josiah stood up and walked over to the dead man. He reached down and pried the ruined book from the dead fingers and stood up. He turned towards the four men huddled around the two injured agents and knew instinctively what Larabee was asking them to burn.

"Only way to end it," Larabee cried weakly. The pain that was once a dull, throbbing roar was taking hold and slamming into every part of his body and still he had to hold on. "Burn it, J'siah!"

Sanchez nodded and quickly searched for anything to set fire to the aged Journal. He searched Maguire's pockets and found a gold embossed lighter with the initials R. M. on the lid. His eyes met the pain filled eyes of Chris Larabee and he flicked the lighter open.

"Do it!" Larabee hissed. He smiled as the flame came to life in the ex-preacher's hands. The fire sputtered as it neared the pages, but the edge of the paper finally caught. The blond watched as Sanchez placed the book on the ground beside the dead man and waited for the fire to consume whatever was written inside. He leaned forward, crying out as the wounds to his body and the broken bones protested the new abuse he was inflicting on it.

Josiah watched the book until there was nothing left but a pile of black ash on the incredibly white sands. He knew they'd just destroyed evidence, but he also knew it was destined to happen. A sound behind him caught his attention and he turned to see a cloud of dirt and dust billowing out from the mine and rising up into the open air. He looked above the entrance to see a large crow circling overhead and he dropped his eyes to the injured men as he snarled. 'You're not taking Chris Larabee!' he swore as he came and knelt in front of the blond.

"It's done, Chris!" Sanchez watched as Larabee's energy gave out and he sagged against the sharpshooter. Twin cries of pain reached the ears of the healthy men and they quickly moved Larabee off Tanner.

"JD, get the first aid kit! Buck see if you can find more water! Vin stay put! Josiah, make sure Vin's shoulder's not bleeding! Ezra, go into the house and find anything I can use to immobilize Chris' shoulder! Bring some water to clean him up with too!" Jackson called the orders as he slowly ran his hands over Chris Larabee's battered body.

Chris felt the soft hands of the healer as he gently probed his ribs. He couldn't suppress the cry of pain as broken ribs shifted under the easy touch.

"Sorry, Chris," Jackson said as he shifted his focus to the hip. The bruise covered most of the area, from the navel as far towards the back as he could see. There was no doubt in his mind the hip was broken, now they just needed to keep it immobile until the medivac chopper arrived. "Jesus," he swore as he moved to the lash marks covering the lean thighs and taut chest. He could tell Chris had gone through at least two rounds with a cane, or something similar, as livid welts now surrounded old wounds.

"Nathan?"

Jackson looked up as JD placed the first aid kit beside him. "Thanks, JD," he muttered as the kid opened it. He heard Buck and Ezra return and was grateful as they afforded him extra hands.

"Nathan, how is he?" Tanner winced as Sanchez probed his shoulder.

"I don't know yet, Vin," Jackson answered as he felt the area around the knife wound. He knew not to remove the blade or he could cause worse damage.

"Chopper coming in!" Wilmington said as the sound of rotary blades came closer.

"Thank God," Jackson hissed. He opened a sterilized package of gauze and used it to soak up the blood seeping from the knife wound. "Buck, hold this for me!" he ordered and the ladies' man placed his hand on the gauze, holding it against the wound, but not pressing down heavily.

JD rushed out into the open and waved his hands to get the chopper's pilot's attention. He watched as it descended towards them, knowing help was almost on hand. As it touched down he motioned them towards the injured men. Two men jumped out, grabbed the medical kits and the stokes and ducked as they ran beneath the churning blades. They hurried past the anxious agent and knelt in front of the injured men, one beside Larabee the second beside Tanner.

The two men were used to working together and began cursory exams of both men.

"What have you got, Phil?" Joe Striker asked as he placed his hand against Larabee's neck. His expert eyes were quickly assessing the visible injuries on the front of the body he worked on.

"He was shot four or five days ago," Jackson supplied, realizing he really wasn't sure how much time had passed since Vin had been shot. "Bullet broke the collarbone. Second bullet grazed his head. He's been suffering from a major concussion."

Phil St. Laurent looked at the dark skinned man and frowned. "Why the hell isn't he in the hospital?"

"It's a long story. He wasn't released...we...we signed him out," Jackson explained as the paramedic completed taking vitals.

"What's your name, Son?" he asked the young man.

"Vin...Tanner," the sharpshooter gasped. He heard Jackson telling the man working on Larabee that he was a fully trained paramedic in Billings Montana and smiled as the second man put him to work taking vitals.

"Allergic to anything?" Phil asked the man he worked on.

"Penicillin."

"All right, Vin, I'm gonna set an IV up and give you something for the pain. Then we'll get you loaded in the chopper."

"Ch...ris?" Tanner lifted his head slightly and looked at the man beside him.

"Joe's taking good care of your friend and the quicker I get you comfortable the quicker I'll be able to help him out. So just relax for me okay?"

"O...kay," Tanner hissed as his eyes slid closed.

Striker was glad of Nathan Jackson's help. The extra hands were needed as he started to examine the wounds on the injured man before him. He smiled as a pair of green eyes peeked out from under half mast lids. He saw the lines of pain on the haggard face and knew they needed to get this man ready and loaded on the chopper.

"What's your name, Son?" the older man asked as he attached a cervical collar around the patient's neck..

"C...Chris."

"Well, Chris, I'm Joe and I'm gonna take good care of you. Now you try to relax while we get some fluid running into you. Okay?"

"...okay..." Larabee agreed and closed his eyes. He could feel hands all over his body and grimaced as they struck a particularly sore spot. 'Hell, Larabee, you're sore everywhere,' he laughed as he felt someone tapping at his forearm.

Nathan heard the weak sound and looked at the man he was working on. He knew Larabee was in a lot of pain, but he also realized with his blood pressure so low there was nothing they could give him without jeopardizing his life even further. He looked back at the arm and searched for a likely place to start an IV.

"The right hip is broken and he's got broken ribs down both sides," he explained as he inserted the tiny needle that would help deliver much needed fluids to his friend.

"Does he have any allergies, Nathan?" Joe asked.

"No," Jackson answered.

Striker nodded as he quickly wrapped the knife to keep it from shifting and then turned his attention to the wounds covering the body. He knew his patient was awake and in misery, but continued with what had to be done.

"Vin, we're going to get you in the chopper now," Phil explained. He knew the other men would help him as they'd informed him they knew the logroll as well as other maneuvers to load Tanner into the stokes.

"Chris?" Tanner asked.

"Joe and Nathan are getting him ready right now, Vin," Phil assured him. "The faster we get you taken care of the faster we can get him ready for transport."

"Okay," the injured Texan said as he felt the hands on his body.

Nathan continued to help the paramedic working on Chris Larabee. He started a second IV as Striker finished hooking up the monitoring equipment. The portable equipment came to life with the flick of a switch and Nathan felt the relief of hearing his friend's heart beat.

"Chris?" Larabee opened pain filled eyes once more and looked Striker. "I'm going to put an oxygen mask on you and I want you to relax and try to take deep breaths," he ordered as he placed it over Larabee's mouth and nose. "Phil, bring the backboard!" he shouted as his partner finished securing the first patient in the medivac chopper.

"Got it," St. Laurent called as he grabbed the backboard and the second stokes. He hurried back to the second injured man and dropped the stokes. He knew Jackson was helping his partner and hurried to check the man sprawled on the ground next to the collapsed entrance to a mine. He quickly took in the open eyes and the blood covered body and felt the neck. There was no doubt that the man was dead. He hurried back to the group surrounding Larabee and began assisting with the care of the seriously injured man.

"I need to check his back," Striker said. "Let's roll him onto his side and hold him there while I take a look. The three men got into position and professionally logrolled the injured man onto his left side.

Nathan gently, but firmly held the injured hip, and tried to steel his heart against the pain he knew he was inflicting on the blond. He looked up to see the others standing over them, four silent sentries guarding a man who'd been put through hell. He tried to let them know Larabee was fighting, but his attention was quickly brought back to the injured man as Striker examined the wounds on his back and legs.

"It looks like he was struck pretty hard back here as well," Striker began and turned his attention to the backs of Larabee's knees. The flesh was swollen and bruised and he frowned as blood seeped from two tiny holes. "There's a couple of puncture wounds behind both knees. It looks like there's infection in both of them. Just hold him where he is for a minute," he ordered and quickly cleaned and wrapped the wounds. There was nothing else they could do for Chris Larabee except get him on the board and transport him to the trauma center. "Alright, let's get him in the stokes and into the chopper!" he snapped as he realized this man was dangerously close to losing his life.

Chris groaned as his body was rolled onto a backboard and secured to it. With the help of the others they quickly placed him in the stokes. The Paramedics secured the equipment and IV lines and stood back as they were shouldered aside and the five Firm agents lifted Larabee and carried him towards the waiting chopper. Buck looked at the bruised face and watched as the eyelids finally closed and his friend lay still. He looked up at the medic standing beside him, worry and fear etched on his face.

"He's still with us, Buck, he's just lost consciousness." 'Thank God!' Jackson thought of the last glimpse of the green eyes he'd had. Larabee was no longer holding back the pain, it was there, in the green depths for any and all to see.

"Listen to the monitors," Jackson told him. Although the beep seemed too fast, it was music to the ears of each man.

They lifted Larabee into the chopper and secured the stokes. Striker and St Laurent turned to the men standing outside the door. "We're taking them to Washoe Medical Center. They've got one of the best trauma centers in the world," Striker explained as he turned back to the two injured men.

The five remaining men moved back as the rotary blades began to churn up the sands underneath them. They watched in silence as the chopper lifted off and raced towards the trauma center. They stood silently watching until the black shape was a speck on the horizon and finally disappeared altogether.

They walked back towards the mine entrance and Jackson stopped to pick up the blanket. He walked to the body and covered it as sirens sounded in the distance. He knew it would take a couple of hours before they could drive to Washoe and check on their friends. All they could do was pray both men were alive when they got there.

Part 11

Washoe-2002

Vin's head was turned slightly, and he kept staring at his fellow passenger. His eyes never wavered from the slight rise and fall of his friend's chest as he fought to stay awake. He didn't know how long they'd been in the air, but the pain in his skull had grown from a small tremor to a full blown earthquake. He was sure his head would crack open the same way the ground did during a heavy quake, but still his eyes didn't close. He drank in every breath, every tiny beep from the monitor as the chopper ate the distance between the homestead and Washoe Medical Center.

'Stay with me, Cowboy,' he thought as his eyes began to close.

Joe Striker and Phil St. Laurent kept working on the injured blond. Both men knew he was suffering from severe dehydration and the fluids were running into him wide open.

"His blood pressure is dropping!" Striker said as he looked at the new readouts. He checked the temperature and noted it was low at 95. He looked towards the front and called. "What's our ETA, Craig?"

"Three minutes!" the pilot answered.

"Is Chris o...okay?" Tanner asked softly, knowing any noise would cause the expected explosion in his head.

"He's doing, Fine, Vin," St. Laurent explained. "Is your head bothering you?"

"Y...yeah," Tanner answered honestly.

"Why don't you close your eyes and try to sleep? We're almost at Washoe Medical," the paramedic told him.

Vin felt his eyes closing in spite of his resolve to stand watch over the unconscious blond. He was drifting towards sleep, but was jarred from it by an alarm. "Chris!" he gasped and cried out as his the pain lanced through his skull.

"Easy, Son," St. Laurent said from beside him.

"Ch...ris...is he?" Vin groaned as the alarm continued.

"Joe's with him. If you're okay I need to help him."

"I'm o...kay! G...go!"

St Laurent checked Tanner's monitors and knew there was nothing else he could do for him. He turned back to see Striker checking Larabee over, just as a second alarm sounded.

"Phil, I need you here, now!" Striker hissed as the monitoring equipment told him Larabee had stopped breathing. "Craig, how long?"

"We're landing now!" the pilot answered.

Striker immediately started artificial breathing while his partner got things ready to get the patient into the trauma center as soon as possible. The Chopper landed with barely a thud and the doors were opened by the co-pilot. Derrick Barrett, head of the trauma team at Washoe County Medical, joined the two men. He knew the patient needed help immediately, and started shouting orders.

"Joe, keep bagging him!" Barrett ordered as they lifted Larabee's stokes out of the chopper's birth and placed him on the waiting gurney. They raced towards the trauma center's main doors, Striker standing on the edge of the stretcher as he continued to do artificial breathing for the patient.

+ + + + + + +

Sandy Milano hurried into the chopper to check on the second patient at the same time the others worked over the critically injured man.

"Just lie still, Vin," she ordered having been given his name by Phil St. Laurent as soon as she stepped inside. She listened as the paramedic read off the list of injuries and her patient's vitals.

Vin kept trying to see past her, but his vision was blurred and the pain lancing through his skull made it impossible for him to keep his head up. "P...please...Chris," he whispered as he tried to bring the figure above him into focus.

"He's in good hands, Vin. I'm Dr. Milano and I'm going to take care of you. We need to get you inside so I can do just that, okay?"

Vin couldn't answer as an incredible wave of pain and nausea washed over him. He felt her hands touching him just as everything became too much and he lost the fight to stay conscious. "C...Chris..." the name was barely heard as the doctor turned her attention to what needed to be done.

+ + + + + + +

Barrett watched as an orderly opened the door to one of the trauma resuscitation rooms and they raced the patient inside. They transferred Larabee's unresponsive body to the trauma room bed. Nurses quickly disconnected the portable monitors and hooked up the stationary ones while others checked IVs. Things moved swiftly in order to stabilize the patient and get him hooked up to the ventilator.

"We got work to do, people!" Barrett snapped as he watched his partner finish intubating the patient and hook him up to a ventilator. The soft beeping of the monitors reassured them the injured man was still breathing. "Alright, I want blood samples taken and get portable X-ray up here on the double! Jenny, get those samples to the blood bank!" He watched as a third nurse quickly inserted a Foley catheter. He moved to the head of the bed and expertly inserted a nasogastric tube down the patients left nostril. The Trauma team moved around the room as they worked quickly and efficiently to save Chris Larabee's life. If anyone looked in on the scene they would have described the scene as organized chaos.

+ + + + + + +

Vin opened his eyes as they transferred him onto the bed in the trauma room. The bright overhead lights sent daggers through his skull and he clenched them tightly in an effort to stave off the pain and instant nausea. He tried to curl into a ball, but was prevented from doing so by strong hands on his legs and shoulders.

"Si...ck!" he hissed weakly and felt a basin placed in front of his mouth. He felt someone rubbing his shoulders as what little was left in his stomach emptied into the basin. "T...thanks," he rasped as a cloth was quickly wiped over his face.

"You're welcome. I'm Dr. Milano and I'm going to help you." She repeated in order to let the patient know he was safe. "You're at Washoe Medical Center. Can you tell me your name?"

"Vin."

"Very good, Vin. Do you remember what happened?" She asked as she checked his eyes, quickly removing the light as even that tiny instrument seemed to cause him discomfort.

He frowned and tried to grasp the foggy tendrils of his memories. "Shot?"

"Yes, you were," she said as she checked his head wound. "Katy, get portable x-ray up here. I want a picture of the shoulder just to make sure the bones haven't moved! What else do you remember, Vin?" she asked as one of the nurses took blood samples from the patient.

"Ghost town...shot....oh, Christ!" he cried, his eyes widening in spite of the pain as he tried to come off the bed. "Chris! Hurt...Where is he?"

"Lie still," Milano ordered as she gently pushed him back on the bed. "He's just across the hall, Vin."

"His h...heart stopped...h...heard the a...alarm. Please, c...check for me..." he pleaded softly as again his head felt like it was on the verge of exploding.

"Betsy, go check on Chris Larabee's condition," Milano ordered as her patient seemed to grow agitated. "Vin, just lie still. You're suffering from a major concussion and need to relax. As soon as I make sure there's nothing else going on I'll get you something for that. Katy, give him a shot of Zofran for now. That'll help with the nausea, Vin."

"O...okay," Tanner told her as the dark haired nurse swiped a alcohol swab across one of the junctures in his IV and injected the ordered medication.

+ + + + + + +

Betsy walked from one trauma room to the other and stepped inside. She could see Barrett was still working on the patient and she caught the attention of one of the nurses.

"Debbie."

Debbie looked up at her name being called and hurried to the door. "What's wrong, Betsy?"

"I've got his friend across the hall and he's pretty worried about him. How is he?"

"We had to hook him up to a ventilator and he's listed as critical right now. Tell his friend we're going to do everything we can."

"His friend thought his heart stopped."

"No. He stopped breathing, but his heart was still beating."

"Thanks, Debbie," she looked at the patient on the bed and the myriad of equipment surrounding him. No matter how often she saw it she never got used to it for if she did she knew she'd lose what it meant for her to be a nurse. She let the door slide closed and went back to her patient.

Vin heard the door open and tried to look past the doctor examining him. He recognized the nurse named Betsy and tried to speak. His throat was arid and it turned into a dry cough.

"Easy, Vin," Milano told him as she listened to his chest. "Betsy?"

"He's listed as critical right now, Doctor."

"Ah, hell!" Tanner hissed as the nurse's words reached his ears. He'd known his friend was hurt, had felt him struggling to stay awake when they were in Black Rock Desert. Having his suspicions confirmed struck deep in his heart.

"Vin?" He forced himself to meet the nurse's eyes. "His heart didn't stop beating."

The blue eyes filled with hope as he looked at the nurse and doctor. "But the alarms?"

"They sounded because he stopped breathing," Betsy explained. "He's on a ventilator and it's helping him breath."

"Shit," Tanner swore as his mind wandered back to the start of what should have been a wonderful vacation. He felt the heavy weight of fatigue and worry clamp down on his mind and felt his eyes closing. "Ghost towns...supposed to visit g....ghost tow..." the final word was cut off as he sank into the blissful warmth of a painless sleep.

+ + + + + + +

Black Rock Desert-2002

Barry Lawrence and two of his officers took the statements of the five men, asking questions as four other officers checked the area and taped off the crime scene. The captain moved to examine the body of Robert Maguire.

JD and Ezra had found the woman's decaying body in the barn and covered her with a blanket. Now they were watching as she was transferred to a body bag and placed in the back of the morgue's van.

Josiah, Nathan and Buck were showing two of the officers the area where the mine collapsed. Each member of the firm continually looked at their watches, impatient to get on their way.

"Okay, gentlemen, I think that's it for now," Lawrence said as he closed up his notebook and shook each man's hand. "I hope your friends make it," he told them.

"Thanks, Captain," Sanchez said as they walked towards the rented Aerostar.

"Call and let the office know where you'll be staying in Washoe," Lawrence told them.

"We will," Buck assured him as the five worried men climbed into the van.

They were finally on the way, Josiah once more at the wheel. The others were silently staring out the windows as they travelled the roads to Washoe. Each man's thoughts were centered on the two men in Washoe.

Buck was reliving a time when he'd first seen Vin and Chris together. Thinking about the simple nod of the head and meeting of the eyes. It seemed as if the two men were meant to meet and that fate had finally given them that chance. He sent up a silent prayer that he'd get to see that strange connection again. He wouldn't have been surprised to know the other men were doing the same thing.

Part 12

Washoe-2002

Jenny continued to monitor her patient as the OR was set up. Cutbacks were always happening and this hospital was no different from any of the others. What bothered her most about cutbacks was that the patients were the ones to suffer. She looked up as the door opened and Derrick Barrett entered.

The trauma team leader checked his patient and was glad to see he'd stabilized with the IV fluids and blood transfusion running into his arm. X-rays confirmed that the right hip was broken and would need to be repaired by an orthopaedic surgeon. He'd placed a call for the surgeon on call and knew the man was on his way. The knife had been removed from the shoulder, and they'd managed to get the bleeding stopped. There were also a total of three broken ribs, two on the right side and one on the left. The one on the left had punctured Larabee's lung and they'd had to insert a chest tube to reinflate the collapsed lung. They'd started him on a strong antibiotic to help the infection raging through some of his wounds. He listened to the left side of his patient's chest and looked up as the door opened.

"OR is ready for him, Doctor Barrett," Debbie, a second team nurse told him.

"It's about bloody time," he said, shaking his head at the reality of government funding. "Sorry," he apologized as he walked to the door. "Get him ready," he ordered as he hurried towards the surgical wing.

+ + + + + + +

Vin opened his eyes and turned towards the sound beside him. He groaned as the move set off the fireworks inside his skull. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but didn't open his eyes.

"Easy, Mr. Tanner, just keep your eyes closed."

"Damn," he gasped as his stomach churned.

"Are you nauseas?"

"Yeah," he moaned.

"I'm going to give you a shot of Zofran to help that. How's your head?"

"Ready to ex...plode."

"Okay, I'm giving you Zofran and Morphine. It shouldn't take long to work."

"Th...anks," he said and waited for the drugs to enter his system.

"You're welcome."

He sank into the pillows and a frown formed on his forehead as memory returned. He knew better than to move his head, but he forced his eyes open. A petite blond stood beside his bed, sympathy for his plight etched on her face. "My friend came in with me. Is he okay?"

Bernice knew about the man who came in with her patient and had kept updated on what was happening with him. She looked at the young man in the bed and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Larabee was taken to surgery about an hour ago. There's no word on his condition as yet."

"Damn, can you k...keep checking for me."

She smiled at the concern in the wonderful blue depths and nodded her head. "I left word at the desk to let me know when your friend is out of surgery. Now why don't you relax and let that medication help you."

Vin knew it was useless to fight the oncoming lethargy and relaxed against the pillows. He knew he wouldn't sleep very deeply until he knew how Chris Larabee was doing. "You'll wake me as soon as you hear anything?"

"Of course," Bernice assured him and watched as he relaxed towards sleep.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah pulled to a stop in one of the few empty parking spaces at the back parking lot of the Washoe Medical Center. The drive had seemed to take forever and a sigh of relief left each man when they'd come to the city limits. That relief was short lived as they raced into the emergency department and stepped up to the desk.

Josie O'Neill shifted slightly back from the desk when the five disheveled men hurried towards her. She looked at each man as they came closer and realized she was shorter than the youngest one. 'Oh, shit,' she thought as the intimidating men came towards her. She placed her hands on her hips, not willing to show them just how nervous she was.

"Can I help you?" she asked, smiling as her voice came out strong and steady in spite of her rattled nerves.

"Yes, ma'am," Jackson said. "we're looking for a couple of friends who came in five or six hours ago..."

"Their names?"

"Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee," Sanchez answered.

"Are you family?"

"About the only family those two have," the ex-preacher explained. "Look, Ma'am, you can check with Saint Vincents hospital in Billings Montana and they'll explain it. We're listed as their legal next of kin."

Josie nodded, moved to the computer and quickly typed in the three letter first name... "How do you spell Tanner?"

"T. A. N. N. E. R," Standish answered.

"Thank you," she said, feeling sheepish that these men unnerved her enough that she couldn't spell such an easy name. "Mr. Tanner is in ICU..."

"What? Why?" Dunne asked.

"Mr. Tanner is suffering from a severe concussion, broken collarbone, a slightly elevated temperature and he's dehydrated. He should be moved to a regular room tomorrow if all goes well."

"What about Chris Larabee?"

Josie looked at the man who'd asked the question. She saw the deep seeded pain in the blue eyes, the worry etched on the handsome face, the firm set of the jaw and knew this man cared deeply for his friend. Again she typed in the name, this time getting it right the first time. "Mr. Larabee is in surgery at this time and was listed in critical condition when he was taken up."

"Dammit!" Buck snapped, frustration, anger and exhaustion sapping his usual flare for the ladies.

"Easy, Buck," Standish said as he placed a hand on Wilmington's shoulder. "Ma'am, Josie," he said reading her nametag. "Can you tell us where the ICU is?"

"Third floor, but please..." anything else she wanted to say was lost as the five men hurried towards the bank of elevators opposite the nursing desk.

+ + + + + + +

Buck punched the button between the two elevator doors and waited impatiently for one of them to arrive. He knew the others were just as anxious as he was to see Vin Tanner, yet he also felt the tension and worry they felt for the man being operated on. He smiled as JD reached out and punched the button once more, relieved when the door opened on their floor. Two men dressed in white lab coats stepped out, frowning as five men stepped inside before they'd completely exited the elevator.

Ezra punched the button for the third floor and felt his stomach drop as the car moved upwards. He looked at the others in the elevator with him and knew his face must look as haggard as theirs did. Dark circles were present around each set of eyes and the grim look was mirrored on each man's face. He hit the door open button as the elevator came to a stop.

The nursing station across from the elevators was bustling with activity as nurses set about getting things ready to turn over to the next shift. Meds were delivered to patients in need of them. Files were being completed and updated to make sure things ran smoothly on the night shift. Nurses and doctors collaborated on what was to be done for each new admission. The five men closed the distance on the desk just as two familiar names were spoken.

"Yeah, Betsy, you can tell Mr. Tanner, Mr. Larabee is out of surgery and should be brought down in half an hour. We're setting up a room for him now."

"Excuse me!" Standish interrupted the two nurses.

"Can I help you, Sir?" the nurse who'd been talking asked as she came to stand in front of the group of men.

"Yes, Ma'am, we're here about Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner," Josiah answered.

"Are you related?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Jackson answered and smiled as the woman frowned at him.

"You are?" she asked and realized how her words sounded. "I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean anything by that."

Again he smiled, seeing the truth of her words in her brown eyes. "We're listed as their next of kin," he explained and saw the woman return his smile. "My name's Nathan Jackson. This here's Buck Wilmington, Josiah Sanchez, JD Dunne, and Ezra Standish." He pointed to each man as he introduced them before meeting the nurse's gaze once more. "How are they?"

"Mr. Tanner is in guarded condition and is resting comfortably," she answered.

"Chris?" Dunne asked.

"Mr. Larabee came through surgery and should be down in half an hour."

"Any word on how Mr. Larabee is?" Standish asked.

"He's listed as critical. That's all I can tell you right now."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Sanchez said. "Can we see Vin Tanner?"

She turned to the nurse she'd been talking to and called her name. "Betsy, these men are here for Mr. Tanner. Can they see him?"

Betsy walked around the desk and scrutinized the five men. Their clothes were dirty and stained with what could only be blood. She shook her head as she looked at them.

"Gentlemen, you can see him as soon as you clean up. I can get you some scrubs if you don't have anything..."

"We've got a change of clothes with us," Dunne interrupted.

"I've got a few things to set up with Mr. Tanner before you can see him anyway. Why don't you get your clothing and clean up a bit. When you're finished check here at the desk and someone will point out Mr. Tanner's room."

"Is there anywhere we can wash up?" Wilmington asked softly. He hadn't spoken until now, the lump in his throat seemed to be restricting his air supply.

"There's a waiting room on the second floor for family members that has showers. Just get off on the second floor and ask at the desk."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Sanchez said as he led the others back to the elevator.

Betsy watched them go and walked towards the room where Vin Tanner was sleeping. She stepped up to the bed and noted the slight flush of fever on his face. She made sure the leads connected to his body were still in place before checking his vitals and recording them in his chart. She moved to replace the bag of IV fluid running into his arm when she noticed a pair of tired blue eyes looking up at her. She checked to make sure the IV was running properly before turning her attention to the young man.

"Hello, Mr. Tanner..."

"Vin."

"Okay, Vin, how are you feeling?"

"Better...head's not so bad."

"That's good. How's your stomach?"

"Not too bad," he answered. "Any word?" he asked, knowing she'd know what he was asking.

"Mr. Larabee is out of surgery. He'll be coming down here shortly. That's all I know right now."

"T...thanks," Vin said as he let his eyes slide closed.

"Vin, Your friends are here." She smiled as the blue eyes opened and looked anxiously around.

"Where?"

"I told them they had to get cleaned up before they could see you. They've gone to the family room and I'm sure they'll be here as soon as they're done. You just lie back and rest until they get here."

Vin simply nodded and closed his eyes. He felt sleep beckoning him and gave up fighting it.

Betsy smiled as she watched him drift off to sleep. She finished checking the IV and hooked up the antibiotics ordered by Dr. Milano. She checked her patient one last time and left the room.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Buck knew he'd probably beaten the fastest shower time in the Guinness Book of World Records, but he didn't care. The first layer of dirt was off him and he actually felt human again. The hot water managed to loosen his stiffened muscles and for that he was grateful. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. He looked into the mirror and straightened his hair as he heard the shower next to his turn off. He turned to see Nathan Jackson grab a towel from the rack.

"Nate, I'm headin' back up."

"All right, Buck, we'll see you there in a few minutes."

"You might want to come lock the door after me," he said and smiled as Jackson wrapped the towel around his midsection and came out of the shower. Buck hurried to the door, knowing the others would look after his things. He walked down the long hallway, amazed at how quiet it was even for a hospital. He reached out and opened the fireproof doors and stepped into a busier corridor. He hurried to the elevators and pressed the up button. The doors opened immediately and he stepped inside, nodding to the young couple standing at the back as he pressed the third floor button. The elevator ride up to the next floor seemed to take forever, actually took less than ten seconds. He hurried out before the doors were halfway open.

He stepped up to the desk and waited for the nurse to turn towards him. He watched her as she finished a conversation on the phone, but his eyes were drawn to activity a short distance down the hallway. He pushed away from the desk and walked towards the stretcher. A doctor, still dressed in surgical garb stood beside the stretcher. He was speaking to the two nurses as they moved the stretcher towards a room where another nurse stood just inside the door. He stood outside the door as the gurney came towards him. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, even the movement of the doctor's mouth and the words that came out were garbled as Buck Wilmington caught sight of a wisp of sandy blond hair and the pale face of his friend. All he could see was the upper portion of the face, the ventilator tube running into Chris Larabee's mouth, and the NG tube hid most of the lower portion. A thin sheet covered Larabee's legs and torso, yet he could see the marks left by Maguire's madness. 'God, Chris, that son of a bitch died to quick,' he thought and frowned as he heard a soft whisper. 'Just be glad he's dead.' He knew where the words came from and he smiled inwardly. The smile disappeared as the stretcher passed by and was pushed into the room. The door was closed and he could no longer see what was happening in the room because of the closed curtains.

"Buck, are you okay?"

Wilmington turned to see Josiah Sanchez standing behind him. He knew he'd seen who was in the room and that the ex-preacher understood exactly how he felt.

"I'm fine, Josiah. I...I just saw them bringing Chris in here and needed to see him. He's not looking too good right now."

Josiah placed a hand on the ladies' man's shoulder and forced him to look at him. "We all know what it's like in ICU, Buck. Sometimes the things needed to keep a man alive can seem overwhelming and take away a man's dignity, but they don't diminish who that man is." He stopped as a man walked towards them.

"Doc, how is he?" Buck asked before the doctor could step past him.

"Are you relatives of Mr. Larabee?" Barrett asked tiredly, frowning as three more men came towards him.

Josiah smiled at the question, knowing it was routine to ask it. "Yes, Sir, we are."

Barrett looked at the group and smiled. He was always amazed at the different family members he saw in ICU and this one was no different, except for its diversity. He knew these men were here out of friendship and pointed to a door across the hall.

"Why don't you gentlemen wait for me in there? I'm just gonna leave orders at the desk and then I'll come speak with you. Give me five minutes," he said and hurried to the desk.

Josiah led the way to the room and opened the door. The waiting room was empty and they sauntered in, sinking tiredly into chairs to wait for the doctor. A small TV in the corner was turned on and showed different areas of the hospital. No one paid attention to the tiny screen. The door opened and the doctor entered the room and took a seat across form Buck Wilmington.

"Gentlemen, I'm Derrick Barrett, I'm head of the trauma team that worked on Mr. Larabee."

"How is he, doc?" Wilmington asked.

"He's listed as critical right now. He's got a lot of facial bruising, but there's nothing broken. A knife wound in his right shoulder that's caused some muscle damage. He's got a total of three broken ribs, two on the right side, one on the left. The left lung was punctured and we've inserted a chest tube on that side." The physician watched each face as he ran down the list. He knew his voice sounded cold, but he'd learned better than to show his emotions in front of family and friends of his patients. He also knew his wife of fifteen years would be his shoulder to lean on after a heavy day like today. The man he'd just operated on had been tortured and he, himself had been a victim of torture at an early age. It was one of the reasons he became a doctor, to help people who'd been treated as badly as he was. There was little doubt that Chris Larabee had suffered more than he had.

"Doc, are you all right?" Sanchez asked.

Barrett took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. One of our best orthopaedic surgeons, Dr. Hastings, performed an open reduction, internal fixation on Mr. Larabee's hip."

"Pins, or did he have to replace the joint?"

Barrett looked at the soft spoken man and wondered about his knowledge. "Pins, Mr...."

"Jackson, Sir, Nathan Jackson."

"Well, Mr. Jackson, you must know something about medicine."

"Not as much as I'd like to," Jackson answered.

"Nathan's a paramedic," Dunne told him.

"You boys make our jobs a little easier," Barrett's words were spoken honestly and he once more started explaining about Larabee's injuries. "He's also been caned..."

"Yeah, we saw that..."

Barrett looked into the blue eyes and serious moustached face and knew this man was hurting emotionally. Once again he wondered at the relationship, how close this group of men were. He knew they were friends, but somehow he also thought of them as brothers.

"Easy, Buck," Sanchez soothed as he saw the anger in the set of the man's jaw.

"I'm okay, Josiah." Wilmington turned his attention back to the doctor. "What else?"

"Some of the marks actually drew blood and were infected. We've put him on a strong antibiotic for that. There were six puncture wounds that could only have been done by a sharp instrument, probably a needle similar in size of a large knitting needle. We cleaned those along with the other cuts on his body. He stopped breathing on the way in and we've got him on a ventilator..."

"For how long?" Standish asked.

"Two or three days. It depends on how well he responds to the medications and blood transfusions. We'll begin to wean him off the ventilator tomorrow evening if everything goes okay. Look, gentlemen, he's hurt, he's weak and he's dehydrated. I don't like to sugar coat things and I won't with you men. Mr. Larabee has a long fight ahead of him..."

"He won't have to do it alone!" Jackson said.

Barrett smiled as the other four agreed with the medic. "You know, I'm glad you gentlemen are here for Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner."

"Can you tell us anything about Vin?" Josiah asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask Dr. Milano. She'll be doing rounds in an hour, so just check with the desk. Now, before you ask, yes, you can visit Mr. Larabee, but make sure you keep it to two at a time...and..."

"Keep out of the way of the nurses," JD finished for him.

Barrett smiled again as he looked at the men. "Sounds like you men have been through this before."

"A time or two," Wilmington answered as Barrett got up to leave. The five men shook hands with the doctor and thanked him for taking the time to speak with them. Buck turned to the others and spoke softly. "I'm going to see Chris," he told them.

They knew he was worried about both men, but he'd known Chris Larabee most of his adult life and they could see how hard the choice was.

"I'll come with you, Buck," Sanchez told him.

"Thanks, Josiah," the ladies man said and the two men left the room. They knew the others wouldn't resent them for going first, it just wasn't part of their nature.

Buck and Josiah entered the room to find a nurse checking Larabee's vitals. The monitors beeped overhead and Buck heard the soft whoosh telling him the ventilator was providing air to Larabee's lungs.

"Hello, I'm Anne Sheridan and I'm one of the nurses looking after Mr. Larabee. If you have any questions I'll answer them as best I can," the petite brunette told them as she continued to care for the patient.

"Thank you, Anne, I'm Josiah and this is Buck. Chris is a good friend," Sanchez said as he watched Buck move closer to the bed.

She smiled as she watched the dark haired man tentatively reach for Larabee's left hand. She knew he was nervous about the IV lines running into the blond's arm and she moved towards him. She eased the patient's hand up and placed it in the other man's hand. "Contact is very important, Buck."

"But the IV?" Wilmington asked worriedly.

"I assure you it's secure. The only way it'll come out is if you were to pull it out and I don't think you're going to do that," she said, a warm smile on her face.

"No ma'am," the ladies man assured her as Sanchez joined him at the side of the bed.

Josiah placed his hand on Larabee's forehead and said a silent prayer. He hated seeing his friends like this, yet he knew the myriad of equipment surrounding the younger man was needed to keep him alive. He knew Buck was talking to Anne and heard her explaining what everything was for. 'I know you've been through hell, Chris, but you'll find us all here to bank the fires and bring you home,' he thought as he flicked back a stray lock of blond hair.

"I know it's hard seeing a friend like this, but he needs the help right now," Anne explained as she checked the contents of the bag clipped to the side of the bed.

"I know," Sanchez said as he looked around the room. He knew the man standing beside him was at the point of exhaustion, he spotted a chair and pulled it closer. "Buck, sit!" he ordered.

"I'm okay, Josiah," Wilmington said, blinking his eyes in order to stop the room from spinning. The long days with little sleep and very little food were catching up to him and he knew it was the same with the other members of the team.

"No, you're not. Now sit down before you fall down," the ex-preacher warned.

"Is there something wrong?" Anne asked worriedly, noting Buck's suddenly pale features.

"He's just tired, Anne, we've been looking for Chris for some time now and it's finally catching up on us," Sanchez explained as he eased the tired man into the chair.

"Maybe all of you should get some rest," the nurse suggested.

"I ain't leaving," Buck said, a little too sharply.

"You won't be much help to your friends if you let yourself get rundown, Mr. Wilmington. I have to suction out the endotracheal tube. Why don't you two go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat? I assure you the food here is not as bad as you might think,"

"I'm not hungry."

"Buck, let's go check on Vin and we'll all get something to eat and maybe catch some shut eye in that waiting room."

"Josiah..."

"Now, Buck," Sanchez used a tone he'd heard Chris Larabee use many times and he smiled as Wilmington stood up, a resigned, put upon look on his face. "We'll be back, Brother!" Sanchez said as he turned the younger man away.

"Just give me a minute, Josiah," Wilmington said.

Sanchez nodded and removed his hand from the ladies' man's shoulder. "I'll be right outside the door, Buck."

Wilmington nodded and turned back to his friend. He placed his right hand over Larabee's heart and felt the tears forming in his eyes. "Now you listen and you listen good, Pard, I ain't ready to give you up and neither are the others. You and me got so many things to do and I don't aim to do those things alone. I'm gonna leave for a little bit, you just make sure you're here when I get back. Take care of him, Anne, he's a special man."

"So are you," she said and was rewarded with a slight smile.

Buck nodded and left the room as she prepared to suction the tube in his best friend's throat.

+ + + + + + +

Nathan and Ezra watched as the younger man fought to open his eyes. They heard a soft groan and knew the light was bothering him. Betsy was in the room with them and she spoke softly to her patient, while they watched in silence.

"Vin, I've turned the lights down."

"Thanks," he mumbled as he fought once more to raise his lids.

"You've got visitors," Betsy watched as the eyes opened and searched the room in spite of the pain.

Vin looked around until he saw the slightly blurry figures walking towards him. He smiled in relief, knowing they were here with him. His vision cleared and he smiled weakly at the two men. "Hey, Nate, Ez."

"Hey yourself, Mr. Tanner. I won't ask how you're feeling as I can ascertain the answer for myself."

Betsy frowned at the formal words, but knew by the tone it was a front. She'd seen others like the well dressed man, with the southern accent and understood they used their words to hide their true self.

"Hi, Vin," Jackson said and smiled at the nurse.

"You guys seen Chris?"

"Not us. Buck and Josiah are with him now."

"Is he okay? Did you talk to his doctor? How is he?" Tanner's tone showed how desperate he was for information.

Nathan knew it wouldn't do any good to lie to the injured man. He pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. He ran down the list of injuries Barrett told them about, making sure he watched the younger man's face. He felt Ezra Standish lending moral support as he watched the blue eyes fill with unshed moisture and pain. The lids slowly closed over the blue orbs and both men thought he'd drifted off to sleep, yet they knew that was not likely.

"Vin," Jackson called the name softly

"I'm okay, Nate."

"No, you're not, Vin," Standish said as he placed a hand on the injured man's shoulder. "We all know how close you and Mr. Larabee are. Brothers bound by soul as well as destiny and fate. Think about what's happened, Vin, and you'll know what I'm talking about. We're all in this together and as long as we have faith, then you and Chris will both come through this. Just keep believing in what we've seen, you're not alone, none of us are."

"Thanks, Ez," the sharpshooter smiled at the gambler as he shifted slightly on the bed. His headache was returning and with it came the nausea, but he refused to acknowledge it while his friends were there.

"You're welcome, Mr. Tanner," Standish said as he spotted a lone figure just outside the door. "Mr. Dunne is doing a wonderful impression of a lost puppy so I shall take my leave and let him visit with you," he said. He saw Tanner nod and patted the bare left shoulder before exchanging places with JD.

"Hi, Vin," Dunne's voice was filled with boyish excitement at seeing his friend.

"Hi, Kid," Tanner answered.

"How are you feeling?" the youngest member of the team asked.

"If I answer I'm fine I think Nate might just shoot me," the tracker told his friends and heard a small laugh from the medic. "Let's just say I'm getting there," he assured them.

Betsy could see her patient really wasn't feeling very well and knew it was time for his medications. "Vin." She waited for him to turn his gaze on her. "How's the nausea?"

He swallowed painfully, knowing his stomach was churning again. "It's back," he answered, grimacing in spite of his resolve not to show how much pain he was in.

"The headache's back too," Jackson observed.

"Yeah!" Vin answered as he let his eyes close.

"Nate?"

Jackson turned towards the soft voice and walked towards the door. "Chris?" he asked worriedly.

"He's the same." Sanchez answered. "How's Vin?"

"He's still having those damn headaches and he's sick to his stomach. I'd like to go see Chris if you want to visit with Vin?"

"The nurses need to do some things for Chris and suggested we go eat," Sanchez explained and smiled as a loud grumbling sound came from the medic's stomach. "It sounds like your stomach agrees with her."

Jackson smiled sheepishly, "I guess so. One of us should stay with Vin."

"Go, Nathan," Tanner said. "Betsy's gonna give me a heck of a painkiller and I'll probably just go to sleep anyway."

"I can stay, Vin," Dunne said.

"Nah, Kid, if your stomach sounds anything like Nate's you'll only keep me awake," Tanner heard the soft laughter from his friends and smiled. With all of them here there was no doubt in his mind that Chris would get better.

Buck walked past the others and entered the room as JD came out. He stood beside the bed and smiled as Tanner's blue eyes opened. "Hey, Pard."

"Hey, Buck."

"Nathan, Buck and I want to see Vin. Why don't you guys ask at the desk where the cafeteria is and we'll be out in a minute?"

"All right, Josiah," Jackson led the others to the desk as Sanchez walked into the room.

"Hello, Vin."

"Josiah," Tanner looked at the two men and waited for them to speak.

Buck knew what Vin was waiting for and he made sure he looked him in the eyes as he spoke. "Ain't gonna lie to ya, Vin, he's bad," he said and rubbed sweaty palms on his pants. "He's got all this shit hooked up to him and so many damned wires you'd swear he was an octopus. That son of a bitch really did a job on him. Sorry, ma'am," he apologized to the nurse injecting medication in the sharpshooter's IV.

"Easy, Buck," Tanner said. "You need to go eat and get some rest, Pard, ya look like shit."

Wilmington smiled at the opening Tanner was giving him and tried to give him the answer he expected. "You know that just ain't possible." The three men smiled as the response was softly given.

"Vin, we'll be back in a little while," Sanchez explained. "You just rest easy."

"Thanks, Josiah. You guys go eat and get some sleep. Me and Chris ain't goin' anywhere." His voice was filled with a surety he hadn't felt until the five men arrived and the seven were together again, albeit different rooms, but they were together and that was there strength.

Vin watched them leave, knowing they felt the same way he did about what happened to Chris. He could feel the medication taking hold of the headache and also calming his queasy stomach. He sighed as he felt his mind drifting, yet even with the medication Larabee was never far from his thoughts. Just before he drifted off to sleep he sought out and found the connection, it was still there, weak, but still resonating in his subconscious and he sighed deeply.

Betsy watched her patient and wondered about the brief, flicker of a smile that appeared on his face. Although the lids were closed she had a feeling the smile would've brightened up his eyes as well as his face. She checked the IV one more time before leaving to check on other patients.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Anne worked quickly and efficiently to suction the endotracheal tube leading into her patient's throat. She was always grateful when a patient was unconscious during this part of treatment as it meant he didn't have to feel anything. She knew that would change once they allowed him to wake up and the process of weaning him off the ventilator began. She'd seen patients panic once they realized there was something down their throat and they couldn't do anything about it. She knew Chris Larabee would be kept sedated until just before the beginning of her next shift. She checked his hip and made sure the pillow placed between his legs was keeping it in position. She checked the flow on the two IV lines and made sure everything was running smoothly. She finished what she needed to do and wiped his face with a wet cloth. She believed her patients knew what was happening to them on a deeper level and always tried to give them something to hang on to. Sometimes she just talked, but more often than not she hummed or recited poetry. Families of the injured patient often expressed their thanks for what she did. She hummed an old tune as she worked, the sound soft and soothing against the background noises of the ICU.

Part 13

Anyone watching the group of five men seated at a table in the corner would have wondered at the quiet solitude surrounding them. Neither man spoke as they took a seat. They seemed oblivious to everything happening about them and people left them to their own devices.

Dinner was a somber affair as the men sat with their barely touched trays. Forks were dipped into mounds of mashed potatoes, but only swirled the white substance around. Talk wasn't needed right now as their minds were upstairs in the two rooms in ICU.

Buck dropped his fork to the tray startling JD who sat next to him. He pushed the plate away and picked up the strong, sweet coffee in front of him. He knew he should eat, but right now his stomach couldn't handle it. He wondered why Nathan didn't reprimand him, but one look at the plate sitting in front of the medic told him why. Like his own, Jackson's remained virtually untouched, but he was still trying to look interested. Buck finished his coffee and shoved back from the table. He looked out the window beside him for a moment before speaking.

"I'm going back," the ladies man told them and watched as the others stood up.

"I guess there's no real point in sitting here," Sanchez said.

"I'm afraid none of us will be able to do justice to this particular repast, Mr. Wilmington," Standish said as the five made their way out of the cafeteria.

"Mr. Jackson, I was told I could find you in here."

Nathan looked up from the medical journal he'd been reading, stood and smiled at the woman who entered. "Dr. Milano?"

"That's right. I was told you had some questions about Mr. Tanner." She shook his hand and took the seat opposite him.

"Yes, Ma'am. How is he?"

"Mr. Tanner is suffering the effects of a severe concussion as well as a broken collar bone due to a gunshot wound. He's being given fluids because he was brought in suffering from dehydration. I think you knew all of this."

"Yes, Ma'am we did," Jackson heard the sharp tone in her voice and knew she'd already been informed of Tanner's signing his own release.

"He should never have left the hospital in Albuquerque," she told him.

"There was no choice at the time, Ma'am..."

"There's always a choice, Mr. Jackson. Your friend took a chance with his life by leaving before he was ready."

"A man's life...a close friend's life depended on all of us being there to save him..."

"His life could have been forfeited..."

"No, ma'am," Jackson tried to assure her, but knew there was no way to make her understand what had happened the past week. "I'm sorry, Dr. Milano, I can't tell you any more than you already know. Vin is going to be all right isn't he?"

"He will, if he doesn't pull anymore foolish stunts," Milano said as she stood up to leave."

"He won't, Dr. Milano, we'll make sure of that. How long will he be in ICU?"

"I'll probably release him to a regular floor tomorrow morning," Milano answered. "If there's nothing else, Mr. Jackson, I've got to finish rounds."

"That's it, Ma'am, thanks."

"You're welcome. Make sure you let my patient get some rest. He needs it."

"That's easy right now, Doc, but once he's in a regular room it might be a little more difficult."

"Why is that?"

"He's gonna want to visit Chris."

"Mr. Larabee?"

"That's right. Chris and Vin are as close as brothers and once Vin starts feeling better he's gonna fight tooth and nail to see Chris."

"I take it you've been through this before."

"Let's just say Chris and Vin probably have reserved rooms at Saint Vincents. Thanks again, Doc."

Milano couldn't tell whether the man was serious or not as she left him to the journals he'd been studying when she arrived.

+ + + + + + +

It was late and the activity in the ICU continued but without the bright lights of the early hours. Josiah Sanchez sat beside the bed and watched as the nurse took care of her patient. He could tell Anne was well versed in what needed to be done for Chris Larabee, and he returned her smile as she hooked up the antibiotics over the blond's bed. He looked at his watch and saw that it was going on four am and he hoped Wilmington, Standish, and Jackson were sleeping in the waiting room across the hall. He remembered the argument he had with Buck, but smiled at how easily he'd convinced him that Chris would need him more the next day. Especially if they decided to wean him off the ventilator earlier than they'd planned. The others were convinced the same way until it was decided that he would sit with Chris while JD sat with Vin.

Anne continued to care for her patient as the older man sat beside him reading from a book of sonnets by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The one he was reciting was a favorite of hers called 'I Lived With visions'. She listened to the soft, hypnotic voice as she worked. Smiling at the words that flowed from his mouth.

"I lived with visions for my company

Instead of men and women, years ago,

And found them gentle mates, nor thought to know

A sweeter music than they played to me.

But soon their trailing purple was not free

Of this world's dust, their lutes did silent grow,

And I myself grew faint and blind below

Their vanishing eyes. Then THOU didst come--to be,

Beloved, what they seemed. Their shining fronts,

Their songs, their splendors (better, yet the same,

As river-water hallowed into fonts),

Met in thee, and from out thee overcame

My soul with satisfaction of all wants:

Because God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame."

Josiah held the book in his hands and wondered if maybe the words could get through the drug induced sleep Larabee resided in. He knew in his heart they probably didn't, but he felt he was breaking the lonely atmosphere of the ICU. He felt someone watching him and looked into the soft eyes of the nurse.

"That was beautiful, Mr. Sanchez."

"Josiah."

"Josiah, you have a wonderful voice. Do you read poetry professionally?"

Josiah smiled and shook his head. "No, Anne, but I have done some reading in my church."

"I bet you keep the congregation enraptured while you read."

Again Josiah smiled, "Well, I don't know about enraptured, but no one has walked out on me yet."

"I don't think that will ever be a problem for you, Josiah."

"Thank you, Anne," he closed the book, stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He felt the kinks caused by sitting too long in a chair and rotated his shoulders to loosen the muscles there.

"Josiah, I need to suction the tube in his throat," Anne explained as she readied the things she'd need. "Why don't you go get yourself a coffee. There's a small kitchen at the end of the hallway where you'll find everything you need. There might even be a sandwich or two in the fridge. Give me about twenty minutes before you return."

Josiah nodded and placed his hand on Larabee's head. "I'll be back, Chris," he vowed as he left the room.

JD looked at his watch and noted it was a little before five am. He stood up and looked at the nurse as she wrote something in Tanner's chart. Vin had fallen asleep at eleven and so far slept peacefully through the night. He was fighting to stay awake and knew it was time to let one of the others take over. They were in the waiting room and he hoped they'd been able to sleep. He was worried about Buck Wilmington. He knew how Buck wore his heart on his sleeve when he was hurting for one of them. This time it was two of them and one was the man who'd been his friend for most of his adult life. The dark circles around Bucks usually vibrant blue eyes told a story all their own. He was hurting, inside and out, and JD knew if Chris Larabee died, they'd be hard pressed to keep Buck Wilmington the man he was. The man they knew and loved, the one who was always there to pick up the pieces and wasn't afraid of showing his emotions.

JD said goodnight to the nurse, looked at the sleeping man in the bed, said a silent prayer of thanks that he was still with them and left the room. He walked across the hall, past the nursing station and peered into the room where Chris lay in a jumble of equipment. He wasn't surprised to see Buck Wilmington seated beside the bed and wondered how long he'd been there.

"JD?"

Dunne looked up to see the ex-preacher coming towards him. "Josiah, how long has Buck been up?"

Sanchez frowned as he looked into the room. The ladies' man had pulled the chair up close to the bed and was leaning over the rail speaking softly to the injured man. "I checked on them just before I went to grab a coffee. He must've just woke up."

"He looks beat."

"Don't we all, Son?" Sanchez said. "I know he slept for a couple of hours."

"How?"

"I kept checking on them. The only one who opened his eyes when I went in was Ezra."

"Ezra!" Dunne's low voice did little to hide his surprise. "I thought he'd sleep for at least 24 hours."

"Hmm. Well, Son, it seems like Buck is standing vigil over Chris so we might as well see who's ready to take over for you with Vin."

"That's why I was coming over. I can't keep my eyes open any longer."

The two men headed for the waiting room and slipped quietly inside. Nathan was still sleeping, but Ezra Standish sat watching the small TV in the corner. He stood up and held a finger in front of his mouth and pointed to Jackson with the other hand. He nodded his head as he walked out, leaving the two men to stretch out as best they could in the small room.

Ezra walked past the room where Buck sat watching the sleeping man. He met the blue eyed gaze and walked on to Vin Tanner's room. He walked into the room and nodded to the nurse as she left. He sat in the vacant chair and pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. He reached into the pocket of his vest and frowned as his hand came away empty. He searched through the other pockets, but came up empty handed. He knew he'd placed the dog-eared card in his pocket when they left Albuquerque, but now it wasn't there. "Must have lost it somewhere, Ezra," he said.

"Talking to yourself, Ez?"

Standish smiled as he saw the blue eyes looking up from a too pale face. "I am merely having an..."

"Please, Ez, no five dollar words right now."

"I take it your head is no better?"

"It's gettin' there. How's Chris?"

"He's still residing in a sedated sleep..."

"Ez!"

"Oh, hell, Vin, I'm sorry. Maybe I should go let one of the others sit with you."

"No, Ezra, just talk like everyone else at least until my head can handle those big words again."

Standish smiled and nodded. "I will, Vin," he said simply.

"Thanks," Tanner returned the smile. "Now what did you lose?"

"Pardon?"

"You said you must've lost it. What was it?"

"It's the strangest thing, Vin. I can't seem to find the playing card."

"Playing card?" Tanner tried to grasp the elusive memory, but it wouldn't come to him.

"The ace of spades. The one you were clutching in your hand when they brought you into the University Hospital. I know I placed it in my pocket when we left the hospital, but it's not there now."

"When did you see it last?" Vin asked, frowning as he thought of the man who'd placed it in his care.

"The day we found Chris. I guess we'll never know what happened to it." Somehow he knew it wasn't in the hospital with them and he wondered where the card could be.

"If you're meant to find it, ya will, Ez," Tanner yawned and his eyelids started to close once more. He drifted towards sleep, knowing someone was watching his and Chris' back.

Ezra settled into the chair and turned his attention to the cards in his hands. He pulled over the tray table and expertly dealt out a game of solitaire.

Vin Tanner was being transferred out of ICU and was being moved to a room on the fourth floor. Milano told him if things continued to improve he would be discharged in three to four days. She stood beside his bed as she finished making notes in his chart.

Vin's gaze went from her to Jackson and he swallowed with some difficulty. He knew what he was about to ask might not go over well, but there was no way he was leaving the floor without seeing Chris Larabee.

"Nathan?"

Jackson turned at the sound of his name and shook his head. The look on Tanner's face was one he'd seen before and he knew what the young man was about to say.

"I want to see Chris."

"Doc?" Jackson asked as he met the woman's stern gaze.

"Mr. Tanner..."

Vin didn't like her tone and knew he wouldn't like what she was about to say. "Look, Doc, you can wheel me out of here in a chair! Hell, you can leave me in this bed, but 'm goin..."

"Mr. Tanner, can I finish what I was going to say?"

Tanner's eyes dropped a fraction of an inch and Jackson knew the injured man was hurting. The lights still bothered his eyes, but at least his stomach wasn't as queasy as it was earlier.

"Guess so," Vin said softly.

"I'll agree to let you see your friend for five minutes." She was amazed at the instant smile that covered his face at her words.

"Thanks, Doc."

"Five minutes, Mr. Tanner, then you let the nurses take you upstairs to your new room. If you rest and do everything they ask you to, you can return again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow! Its time you realized you already neglected your own health. Give it a day or two and let your body regain some of its strength and you'll be able to come up more often."

"But..."

Milano's eyebrows rose as she looked at her patient. "Mr. Tanner, Mr. Larabee is sedated and won't be waking up until tomorrow morning. Now at that time he'll be feeling pretty miserable with that tube in his throat and I'm sure he would appreciate you being there for him. If you don't rest and eat, then you won't have the strength you need to be there at that time. It's your choice. Would you rather be there for him now, when he won't even know you're there or tomorrow when he will need you most."

"Hell," Tanner hissed.

"Does that means you'll take the five minutes now and then wait until tomorrow to come back?"

"Don't look like I've got much choice," Tanner said.

Nathan smiled, knowing the woman had used the right amount of subtle blackmail and the proper tools to get Vin Tanner to agree with her rules.

"I'll let them know at the desk that they can take you over to see Mr. Larabee before they bring you upstairs."

"Thanks," the word was soft and barely audible as the sharpshooter let his eyes slide closed.

Vin sat in the chair, holding back the pain he knew was just beyond his open lids. A flannel blanket covered his legs and he was grateful for it. He was chilled, but he knew it had nothing to do with being cold. He kept his eyes closed as the nurse pushed him towards Chris' room. Breakfast trays were being collected as he passed the nursing station. Nathan had prepared him for what was being done to Chris, and he knew from experience what he would see. The door stood open and he felt Nathan standing beside him as the chair was pushed into the room. Ezra sat beside the bed, but looked up as Vin was wheeled into the room.

"I'll wait outside," Standish said, patting Vin's shoulder as he passed him.

"We'll be right outside the door if you need us, Vin," Jackson assured him.

"Thanks, boys." The chair pulled to a stop beside the bed and he got his first look at the man he considered a brother above all others. He tentatively reached through the rail and grasped the fingers on his friend's left hand. His thumb slowly ran the length of Larabee's fingers in an effort to send comfort to the injured man. He could hear the two nurses talking, but easily tuned out their words.

He knew Chris was still sedated and silently voiced his words. qqq'Hey, Cowboyxxx,' he began. qqq'I know they'll be letting you wake up soon and I'll be here when they do. Ah, fuck, Chris, I wish there was something I could do to change all this. Wish the hell Maguire was made to suffer as much as he's made...as he's making you suffer. The bastard's dead...you made sure of that...I won't say I understand everything that happened, but I know there had to be a reason. Some mighty strange things with Ezra's ace of spades and that old Colt JD had stuffed in his pants. Can't figure out where it came from, but I think it was meant to be there that day. The guys are here, you know. They've been watching both our backs.'xxx

The two nurses watched as Vin Tanner grasped Chris Larabee's left hand in his own. He didn't say a word, yet they knew he was communicating his feelings to the unconscious man.

'They're gonna make me leave soon, Pard, but I wanted you to know you're not alone. It may feel like it wherever you are right now, but things are not always what they seem. Damn, I'm beginning to sound downright philosop-something or another. Have to ask Ezra what that word is.'

"Vin?"

qqq'Looks like it's time for me to go, Chris. I'll be back when they let you wake up.' xxxHe gently squeezed the fingers before releasing them. "Stay strong, Cowboy," he said, as the nurse grabbed the handles of his wheelchair. She backed him out of the room and his eyes stayed on the man in the bed until she turned him towards the elevator. He felt Ezra Standish walking beside him and was glad he was there.

The day passed much the same as the night before. The five members of the firm took time to eat, sleep and sit with their friends. Josiah placed a call to Orrin Travis and the older man would be joining them as soon as The Firm's jet returned for him.

Buck Wilmington was finally asleep in the small waiting room and the others were relieved they wouldn't have to resort to tying him down. Exhaustion finally won out and he simply passed out while sitting in front of the TV. He didn't move or make a sound as Sanchez eased him down on the uncomfortable couch and covered him with a thin blanket. JD volunteered to stay with Buck while they went for lunch.

Nathan Jackson waited outside Larabee's room, leaning heavily against the wall. The door was closed and the curtains were drawn once more and he waited for them to open. Derrick Barrett was examining his patient and would decide whether to ease off on the sedatives keeping Larabee in the netherworld of sleep. Sanchez looked at the door to the small waiting room as it opened. A disheveled Buck Wilmington walked towards him with JD close behind him.

Buck rubbed the last dregs of sleep from his eyes as he stopped before the closed door. "What's going on, Nathan?" he asked worriedly.

"Dr. Barrett's in there. He's going to decide whether or not to ease off on the sedatives and let Chris wake up."

"How long's he been in there?" JD asked.

"About fifteen minutes."

"Who's with Vin?"

"Ezra. Josiah went to get coffee and sandwiches at a little deli just down the street. He should be back any minute."

The three men turned to the door as it opened and Barrett stood framed in the doorway.

"Doc, how is he?" Wilmington asked before the others had the chance.

"Why don't we go into the waiting room?" Barrett led the way and waited for the three men to join him. Once the door closed behind them he sat down and waited for them to do the same. He felt their eyes on him and explained what was going to happen. "We'll ease off on the sedation and let him wake slowly," Barrett explained. "He should begin waking up late this evening. That's when we'll need all of you to help us. He's going to wake up disoriented and will probably panic with the tube down his throat."

"We know what that's like, Doc and we'll be there for Chris," Wilmington assured him.

Barrett smiled, glad Chris Larabee would not be waking alone as he had when he went through his own experience with a madman. He knew Larabee would need to talk to someone professionally about what he'd been through. He was going to suggest he speak with a friend who'd helped him through the aftermath of his own experience. The man was part of the team of psychiatrists that worked out of the hospital, and would be more than willing to see Larabee and the others if they wanted to talk about it. His own family had needed to talk, but waited until it was almost too late.

"I'm glad to hear it. This may be a long night for all of us. I'm on call tonight and will be checking in on Chris, myself. When you're in the room with him and he shows signs of waking up tell him where he is, make sure he knows he's safe. Whoever his nurse is will explain to him about the tube down his throat."

"So when will you take him off the ventilator?" JD asked.

"We'll do a trial run as soon as we think he's awake enough to know what's going on. That means we'll see if he's able to breath on his own and keep up his oxygen intake. We'll do blood gases and other tests to ensure that everything's okay."

"What if it's..."

"Don't go there, Kid!" Wilmington interrupted, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"But..."

"Leave it, JD!" Jackson warned, glad when the younger man heeded his warning.

"If everything is going well we should be able to take him off the ventilator tomorrow morning."

"That's great, Doc," Buck smiled at the news.

Barrett believed in being honest with a patient's family and he looked at each man before speaking. "You all need to realize it's gonna be some time before Chris is able to do the things he normally does."

"We understand that, Doc, but as we said before, he won't be alone. He's got friends to help him through this and so help me God, that bastard who did this to him is not gonna win!" Wilmington vowed.

Barrett smiled at the outburst and held up a hand to the other two men before they could speak. He understood exactly what Wilmington was going through and he watched as the man stood up and paced the impossibly small space.

"I can't understand how that son of a bitch got away with all those other..."

"Buck, there's no proof that he had anything...."

"Nathan, you and I both know he killed them and he would've killed Chris if we hadn't made it there. Hell..."

"Buck, sit down!" Jackson ordered as he watched the irate man continue his awkward pacing.

"I'm gonna go sit with Chris!" Wilmington said and was gone before the others could stop him.

"I've got rounds to do. Rest assured I'll be back to check on Chris throughout the evening and night."

"Thanks, Doc," Jackson said as he shook hands with the bigger man. He sat back and closed his eyes as the doctor left. He heard JD switch on the TV and settled back to listen to the baseball game.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra shuffled the cards once more and placed them on the table in front of Vin Tanner. He watched as the sharpshooter slowly dealt the cards between them. They were playing five-card stud because it was easy for Vin to hold the two down cards between the fingers of his right hand when he needed to.

Vin looked at the cards on the tray table and the two he held in his hand. So far they'd been evenly matched and Vin knew his friend wasn't playing to his full potential, but he didn't say anything. Standish rarely showed this side of himself and when he did he didn't want a fuss made about it. He looked up over his cards and smiled at the gambler.

"Whatcha got, Ez?"

"Aren't we betting this time, Mr. Tanner?"

"I guess we can. What are you willing to bet?"

"If you win you have to wear one of my exquisite suits for the day."

"Okay and what if I win?"

"How about I supply dinner for you and one of your lovely ladies if you win."

"At your place," Tanner told him.

"Deal!"

"Not quite," Vin said.

"What else?"

"You don't order anything from those fancy restaurants you like to eat at. None of them snails or squid. You cook it yourself and you serve it to us on those fancy plates of yours," the blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Mr. Tanner, that seems a little much especially when you only have to wear my suit for a day."

"Make it a week!"

"Call!" Standish said with a grin.

"What have you got, Ez?"

"It is customary for the man being called to show his cards to the call-ee, but in this case I'll make an exception. Read them and weep, Mr. Tanner." He placed his cards face up, showing a straight from the seven to the jack. He smiled at the look on the injured man's face. "I think Magenta would be a good color for you. What do you think?"

"Hell, Ezra, I don't even know what magenta looks like..."

"You will, I assure you."

Vin smiled as he looked at the cards in his hands. "Ah, Ez, I think we'd like that fancy steak you cooked for us the last time we were at your place." He watched Standish' face as he showed his cards. A flush of hearts, king high.

"Mr. Tanner, I do believe you have a most formidable poker face."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"As it was meant to be. Now I can see by the look on your face that the headache is coming back. Why don't you put your head down and close your eyes?"

"Thanks, Ez," Tanner said as he lowered the head of the bed. He closed his eyes as the gambler turned out the lights and drew the curtain across the window. He took a deep breath to ward off the queasy feeling in his stomach and relaxed against the pillow. He bit his lip as pain lanced through his skull and tried to stop the soft moan from escaping as he opened his eyes.

"I fear I made you overindulge, Mr. Tanner. I will let the nurse know you need something for pain."

"Th...anks...Ez..." Tanner said as the gambler pressed the button beside his left hand. He heard the nurse come in and he felt her at the IV line. It wasn't long before the warmth of the medication entered his system and he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

+ + + + + + +

True to his word, Derrick Barrett showed up at intervals during the evening. Josiah was sitting with Chris when he showed signs that the sedative was wearing off. Sanchez watched as a finger on Larabee's left hand twitched, his eyes never wavered as the movement was repeated. The ex-preacher stood up from his chair and reached for the slowly moving hand.

Anne knew her patient was waking up and she stood on one side of the bed. She leaned in over the injured man so he would see her as soon as he opened his eyes. She looked at the older man standing on the opposite side of the bed and was glad he was there. She had a feeling this man could get through the panic that usually followed waking from a sedative and finding oneself hooked up to all kinds of bizarre looking equipment.

"Chris it's okay," she soothed as she gently reached across and touched his bare left shoulder. "You're in Washoe Medical Center and you're going to be fine. She was about to press the button to have his doctor called when the man walked through the door.

"Anne?" he said as he hurried into the room.

"He's waking up, Dr. Barrett," she told him and moved out of the way. She knew how important it was for a patient to see a familiar face when they woke up like this and she told Sanchez to stay where he was.

"Thank you, Anne," Barrett said as he took her place.

Chris could hear sounds and voices, but nothing made sense. He tried to breathe, but something was down his throat. qqq'God, No!'xxx He thought as pain reawakened with returning consciousness. Memories began to clear and darken his thoughts. He couldn't get his eyes to obey his command to open and he wasn't at all sure he wanted them to. The voices were growing stronger, but so was the realization that something was down his throat. Chris could feel the panic coming over him and tried to move his hands. Nothing worked, he felt tears well up in his eyes, but still couldn't get them open. More memories returned. He remembered being tortured... qqq'Oh, God, please. NO!'xxx He felt pain in his right hip, his shoulder and tried to move away from it. It seemed to follow him everywhere, his chest, his legs, even his head was engulfed in the pain inflicted by the madman.

"Talk to him, Mr. Sanchez," Barrett ordered as he watched the panic on his patient's face.

"Chris, it's Josiah, listen to me, Son, you're safe. There's no one gonna hurt you. Come on now, you've been on a ventilator before. Just relax and let it breathe for you."

The voice was like a safe-heaven for his tortured thoughts and Chris reached out for it. He felt a large hand engulf his own as the rich baritone voice broke through the barriers of pain and drugs. He felt his eyelids move the tiniest bit and fought his way to the surface of the muck he'd been mired in.

Josiah knew Buck was at the door, but he couldn't take the time to acknowledge him. His eyes were glued to the flickering golden lashes and the movement behind the closed lids. "Come on, Son. Open your eyes. That's it," he smiled as they fluttered open and then closed again.

Chris knew the man standing over him, the one with the bright blue eyes and the relieved smile that seemed to cover his face. He blinked several times and once more panicked as he tried to take a breath. 'Help!' He wanted so badly to scream the word, but all he managed to do was fight the tube in his throat, causing pain to flare in his left side.

"Chris, relax and let the ventilator breathe for you," Barrett explained as the green eye turned towards him. He wasn't surprised when the gaze lasted less than a second and the eyes were trained back on Josiah Sanchez. "Keep talking to him."

"You know who I am, Son." He smiled as the fingers in his hand tried to squeeze his own. "That's good Chris. The man on the other side of the bed is Dr. Barrett and he's been taking real good care of you." He knew Larabee was still a little confused and he was trying to make sure he understood him. He also knew what this man's first question would be if he could talk.

"Vin's doing fine. He's in a room upstairs and he'll be down to see you tomorrow. Understand?"

Larabee squeezed the hand holding his, sending his thanks for the information about the tracker. He heard the doctor talking to him and turned his gaze on him again.

Barrett didn't need to hear his patient tell him he was in pain, he could see it in the eyes and on the pale face. "Chris, Anne is going to give you something for pain and I want you to relax." He saw the slight nod of the blond head and knew his patient understood him. He looked at the wall clock and noted the time was 11:48. "If all goes well we may be able to get rid of this thing tomorrow," he said as he pointed to the tube leading to the ventilator.

Anne listened to the doctor and prepared the ordered pain medication for her patient. She wiped an alcohol swab across one of the junctures in the IV and injected the required dosage. Once that was done she placed a new bag of antibiotics on the pole, hooked it into the existing IV line and set the rate.

Chris felt his eyelids drooping once more as even the few minutes he'd been awake exhausted him. He frowned as he turned his head and Josiah was not there. He smiled inwardly as a new face came into view and a hand grasped his. 'Buck,' he thought and felt a new warmth spread through him. Wilmington always seemed to be there for him and he would forever be grateful of that.

"Hey, Stud, you go on back to sleep now. Ol' Buck's got your back and ain't nobody gonna hurt you any more," he smiled as he felt a slight squeeze on his fingers and the lids closed over the green eyes. "Welcome back, Pard," he said as the doctor examined the sleeping man.

Part 14

Josiah hurried to the waiting room and opened the door. Nathan and JD were both sleeping on the small couches. JD's hands were under his head and Josiah was reminded of just how young the Bostonian was. His eyes turned to the medic and he could see the fatigue in spite of the relaxed features. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, smiling as Nathan opened his eyes, but didn't get up.

"Chris was awake for a few minutes," Sanchez told him, not surprised when JD's eyes opened and he sat up sleepily.

"How did he seem?" Jackson asked as he sat up.

"Tired, but he seemed to know who I was and Anne told him where he was. Dr. Barrett is in with him now and he said he'll probably be able to take him off the ventilator tomorrow."

"That's great," Dunne said excitedly.

"It is good news, JD, but Chris is not out of the woods yet. Taking him off the ventilator is just the first step in his recovery."

"I know that, Nate," JD told him. "But you know he hates that tube stuck down his throat. Hell who wouldn't hate it?"

"You two go on back to sleep. I'm going up to let Ezra know Chris was awake."

"Alright, Josiah," Nathan agreed as he and JD settled back down to sleep.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra sat in the uncomfortable chair, his legs propped up on the windowsill as he looked out at the parking lot below. Vin was sleeping soundly with the lights turned out, but Ezra continued to wonder what happened to the ace of spades. He'd searched his small carry on earlier in the day in case the card had fallen from his pocket during the travel, but it wasn't there. He tried to think of when he could've lost it, but couldn't think of anywhere he hadn't already looked. A soft sound alerted him to the door opening and he turned to see Josiah framed in the night lights from the hallway. He looked at the bed and wasn't all that surprised to see Vin's eyes open and watching the ex-preacher as he came into the room.

"Josiah," the sharpshooter's voice was low, but Sanchez heard the slight tremor in it.

"Chris was awake for a few minutes, Vin."

"How was our illustrious leader?" Standish asked, a small smile of relief on his face.

"He was tired and in a bit of pain. Dr. Barrett ordered morphine for him and he went back to sleep."

"What about the ventilator?" Tanner asked.

"Probably come off of it sometime tomorrow."

"Any idea when tomorrow?" Vin asked.

"No," the ex-preacher answered.

"Josiah, if you find out I want to be there."

"I figured as much, Vin, but that's up to Dr, Milano. When she comes in to do rounds ask her, and if she okays it with the desk I'll make sure you're there, Son."

"She'll okay it," Tanner told him.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Mr. Tanner. At least not until you indulge in a real night's sleep. Not just lie there with your eyes closed."

"Hell, Ez..."

"Vin, Ezra's right. You need to sleep or Dr. Milano will turn you down flat."

"I will, Josiah," Tanner assured the older man.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Head still hurts, but not the explodin' kind of pain it was earlier."

"Stomach?"

"Also better," he smiled thinly at the two men. "At least I kept down the shimmering shit and the broth they gave me."

Josiah couldn't help but smile at the pale young man. He knew what the hospital Jell-O was like, the same as it was in every hospital the world over. Something you could bounce off the floors and walls. Shimmering shit was now a running joke with all of them.

"Go to sleep, Vin," he ordered. He smiled as the blue eyes closed and turned to leave. He looked at the quiet gambler, nodded slightly and left the room.

+ + + + + + +

Chris fought his way back to the surface once more and again fought the tube running down his throat. He started to choke and panicked green eyes shot open and looked for whatever was causing the pain. He felt something clasp the fingers of his left hand and held tightly to the lifeline.

"Chris, you're in the hospital. Try not to fight the ventilator," Anne explained as she moved in over the bed so he could see her when he opened his eyes.

"Come on, Chris, it's okay. Just let the machine do what it's supposed to do."

'Buck!' He thought he cried out the name as he recognized the voice, but realized he couldn't have, as something obstructed not only his breathing but his voice box as well. 'Buck, help me! Shit!' he thought as he struggled against the intrusion in his body.

Wilmington continued to watch his friend's face, hoping the flickering lids would finally open.

"Chris you need to relax," Anne warned as the blond continued to fight what was happening to him. "Listen to me. The tube is there to help you, but it won't be there much longer." She watched the green eyes open, close, clench tightly and open once more. She smiled at her patient as she reached for a cloth and patted the sweat from his forehead. She smiled as he turned towards Buck Wilmington and then returned his gaze to her once more.

"Dr. Barrett will be here in an hour and we'll probably turn off the ventilator for a trial run. Okay?" She smiled once more as he nodded his head slightly before turning back to the ladies man.

"Hey, Stud," the ladies' man smiled as he felt Larabee's fingers tighten around his hand. He knew why the blond did it and he smiled. His friend was letting him know through physical contact that he was okay.

Chris hated the tube leading into his throat and yet he understood why it was needed. He closed his eyes as memories of the mine chamber came flooding back like the waves of a giant Tsunami. The white-hot pain as the crowbar struck against his hip returned and he tried to move on the bed in order to escape it. Instead new pains awakened, his shoulder, his ribs, his back, even his face ached with a life of their own.

Anne watched as her patient's eyes clenched tightly and she looked at the clock. She could tell he was in pain and once more delivered the prescribed medication. She knew Barrett would probably order a morphine infusion pump hooked up the next day, but until then she would continue to watch his face for signs he was in trouble.

"Chris, I just gave you some morphine. It'll probably make you sleepy so don't fight it."

Buck watched his friend and saw the slight movement of Larabee's head when the nurse told him not to fight the medication.

Anne knew it was time to suction the endotracheal tube and she looked at the moustached man on the opposite side of the bed. "Buck, why don't you go get a coffee?"

"Ah, Hell, Anne is it that time again?"

"I'm afraid so," the nurse answered.

"Chris, I'll be back in a few minutes," Wilmington assured the blond and was surprised to see the green eyes open and focus on him. He felt the fingers release his hand and he smiled before turning away.

"Chris."

Larabee turned his head towards her and knew from previous experience on a ventilator what she was about to do. He nodded slowly as she began to suction the tube down his throat.

Anne watched the panic in the green eyes and smiled in sympathy. "I know this feels very uncomfortable, Chris, but it's necessary."

Larabee let his eyes close and knew there were tears slipping from under the lids. He didn't bother to hold them back, there was no point, this was a hospital and he was sure the nurse understood just what he was feeling. He had no idea how long the suctioning lasted, but by the time it finished he was exhausted once more. He felt a warm cloth eased across his face and was thankful to the nurse for washing away the sign of his weakness before Buck Wilmington returned to the room. He opened his eyes and looked at the pretty nurse looking after him.

Anne watched as the wonderful green beacons sent a message of gratitude that nearly took her breath away. She wondered what his eyes would be like when he smiled and vowed that was something she'd have to see before he left. "You're welcome, Chris. Has the medication helped with the pain?" She knew it wasn't all gone, but the blond nodded slightly as his eyes closed.

Chris nodded slightly as he tried to ignore what was happening to him. He lay on the bed, his eyes closed, his breathing beyond his own control and drifted towards sleep. By the time Buck Wilmington returned, his long time friend was back in the realm between sleep and a deeper unconsciousness. Chris didn't want to be fully asleep because he knew who was waiting for him in that world between light and dark. His hands fisted at his sides as Robert Maguire's hauntingly soft voice invaded his mind. 'No!' he thought as the crowbar was lifted once more.

+ + + + + + +

Chris had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but he remembered every dream, every nightmare, all reminders of what Maguire put him through. He didn't want anyone to know he was awake, didn't want to see the sympathy in their eyes as they looked down on him. He knew he was hurt, could feel it with every breath, but he'd lived with pain before. He'd lived through hell before, but the things he'd seen during the LSD trips were more than he wanted to remember.

"Chris?"

He heard the voice and knew who it belonged to. The young easterner sounded desperate and Chris knew if he opened his eyes he'd see worry etched on the kid's face. He didn't think he could face that right now. He felt the ventilator supplying his lungs with air and refused to open his eyes.

JD watched the older man's face and frowned. He could tell Chris was awake, yet he wondered why Larabee wouldn't acknowledge he was there. The doctor had been in earlier and the ventilator was slowly being turned off to allow Chris to breath on his own. It wouldn't be done all at once and the doctor also ordered that his blood gases be monitored to make sure he was taking in enough oxygen to satisfy his body's needs. Caitlin, the nurse who'd replaced Anne for the day shift was changing the IV bag on the pole over the injured man's head. JD turned at the sound outside the door and smiled when he saw a pale form in a wheelchair being pushed towards the room by Nathan Jackson.

"Hey, Chris, you got company."

The blond sighed and finally opened his eyes. He could see JD standing beside the bed, but couldn't see what he was looking at. The kid moved back from the bed and was soon replaced with the man who always acted as a buffer whenever he felt sorry for himself.

"Hey, Cowboy," the sharpshooter said as Jackson put the brakes on the chair. He could hear the medic talking to JD, but didn't hear what he said. His eyes drank in the fact that Larabee really was awake and aware of his surroundings. He could tell there was a lot of pain, but also saw his friend was trying to hold it in.

"Vin, we'll be right outside the door if you need us," Jackson explained as he turned to follow the young easterner out the door.

"Thanks, Nate," Tanner smiled at Larabee and began to talk to him. "I know ya can't talk right now, but from what I hear that won't last much longer. You're gonna be just fine, Chris. We both are. The guys are here and it feels like they always have been. Hell, we got some things to talk about when you're feeling better."

Chris could listen to the soft Texan drawl forever. The words he spoke were as much a soothing balm on his soul as any of the medications they were giving him. He felt Tanner slip his hand over the railing and place it on his shoulder. Blue eyes met green and both men sent their strength to each other. No matter what happened, no matter where they were, no matter what hell they were put through, they'd be fine. As long as they had each other and the other five men who made up their brotherhood their strength was complete. Somehow Chris knew they'd been destined to meet the same way as their ancestors had in the tiny town of Four Corners over a hundred years before. He didn't understand why this was, but there was no question in his mind that it was so.

Vin watched his friend's sea-green eyes and knew he was trying to keep the pain at bay, but it wasn't working. He watched as the eyelids dropped over the orbs and clenched tightly. He looked up at the nurse and knew she'd been watching Larabee as well.

Chris tried to lie still and keep the pain he felt building in his body at bay, but it wasn't working. He tried to ignore the intrusion down his throat as he continued to breath on his own. A stab of pain in his left side made him move which set off new waves in his body. His eyes clenched tight and his hands fisted at his side. His eyes opened as a soft, cool hand touched his shoulder.

"Chris, are you in pain?" Caitlin asked.

He looked up into a set of warm, sympathetic, blue grey eyes and nodded once, setting off fireworks in his skull as he did so.

"I'm going to give you a shot to help with the pain," she assured him as the young man opposite her looked on worriedly. She turned towards the door as Derrick Barrett entered the room.

Barrett nodded to the nurse as she readied an injection for the injured man. His shift was nearly over, but he wanted to check Larabee's latest tests first to see if they could take him off the ventilator. He walked to the side of the bed and knew his patient was in pain. He studied the pale young man on the opposite side of the bed for a few seconds before returning his attention to the test results he held in his hands.

"Doc?" Tanner asked.

"Well, I think we can get rid of the ventilator," Barrett said and watched as his patient opened his eyes. "I take it you like that idea, Chris?" he said as the nurse injected the pain medication into Larabee's IV. "Your blood gases look okay over the trial period so there's no reason to keep you uncomfortable. Caitlin, we can dispense with the tube, but put him on a full face mask."

"Yes, Doctor," the nurse agreed.

"Chris, your throat is gonna feel sore so try to keep talking to a minimum for a while, okay?" Larabee nodded.

Chris felt the pain medication enter his system and was grateful when it eased his discomfort. He watched the doctor and nurse get ready to take out the tube and turned to the sharpshooter. He saw the thin smile on Tanner's face and was grateful he'd be there.

"Vin, I need to move you out of the way for a few minutes," Caitlin explained.

Vin patted Chris' shoulder as he was moved away from the bed. He could see Larabee's eyes tracking him and smiled reassuringly. He knew this would be an uncomfortable experience, but worth it once the machine was out of the way.

"Okay, Chris, let's do this," Barrett explained as Caitlin gently pulled the tape from around the tube. He could see the tender skin was swollen and red, a result of both the tape and the beating he'd taken at the hands of the madman. "Chris." The tape was eased away and he waited for Larabee to look at him. "We're ready to take out the tube. I want you to breath out or cough if you can. Understand?" The green eyes blinked and came to rest on the doctor. "Ready?" the eyes blinked once more. "Breath out!"

Chris did as the doctor asked and coughed as the offending tube was pulled from his throat. As it came up so did everything that was in his stomach. He coughed and groaned, his eyes watered and his stomach continued to churn as he tried to turn on his side. He felt strong hands holding him and forced his eyes open. He was grateful for the supporting arms and tried to speak. "Bu...ck," he gasped, his voice scratchy from the tube.

"Hey, Stud, I must say you look a lot better without that accessory."

Larabee couldn't help but laugh, but regretted it almost instantly as pain erupted through his left side and right hip. He felt himself eased back on the pillows, a warm cloth was washed over his face, and finally something was placed over his mouth and nose. Almost instantly the cool mist of oxygen entered his lungs.

"Keep your visit short, Mr. Wilmington. Mr. Tanner you look like you should go back to your room and lie down. Chris needs to rest and sleep right now. As I said his throat's probably gonna feel..."

"We know what this feels like, Doc," Tanner said as he eased in beside Wilmington.

"Caitlin, he can have ice chips, but nothing else right now. I've also left orders to have a morphine infusion pump connected," he saw Larabee's eyes open and the head turned towards him. "I don't want you in any pain right now, Chris. Have you been on an infusion pump before?"

"Yeah," the raspy whisper was barely audible.

"All right. The pump will automatically inject the required dosage of morphine. Caitlin, I've written up the new orders. Chris, I'm going off shift now, but Dr. Carter will be in to see you. Get plenty of rest..."

"How long w...will I be h...here?" Larabee asked, his words muffled by the oxygen mask.

Barrett smiled as he looked at the pale face. "Chris, we just took the ventilator away. It'll be a while before we let you out of ICU. Ask me again when I come back tomorrow. Maybe I'll have an answer for you then. Right now, sleep and do as the nurses tell you."

"T...try," Larabee told him.

"Chris, let the nurses know if you need anything."

"I w...will," Larabee told him as he left.

"Chris would you like some ice chips," Caitlin asked.

"Pl...ease," Larabee answered.

"I'll be right back," she told him as she left to get the ice.

Chris turned his eyes on the two men, one standing, and one sitting in a wheelchair and sighed as his eyes slid closed. The morphine and his weary body pulling him towards sleep, a sleep he really didn't want to face.

Buck watched as Larabee slipped towards sleep and turned to the sharpshooter. He could tell the younger man was at the end of his rope as well. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he realized how close he'd come to losing their friendship. How close Maguire had come to taking Chris and Vin from them, from him. He looked towards the door and saw Jackson standing there watching them and he smiled in spite of his worries. Somehow, they'd make it through, they always did and he was confident they would do so again. No madman would dampen the spirit of the seven as long as they kept the heart and soul where it belonged. He smiled as he realized that was how he viewed these two friends. The heart and soul of the team.

Nathan entered the room and put his hands on the handles of the wheelchair. "Vin it's time to get you back to your room."

"I'm all right, Nathan."

"I know you are, Vin, but you really need to rest. Chris is probably gonna sleep for the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon."

"You'll bring me back down..."

"I'll bring you back down after you've had a nap, ate something and the doctor okays it," Jackson told him. "Buck, Ezra will be here in a couple of minutes. He's gonna stay with Chris while the rest of us go grab something to eat."

"All right, Nate," Wilmington said as the nurse returned. "He's asleep," he told her.

"That's good," she said as she placed the cup and spoon on the table. "He'll be doing a lot of that, Buck. His body is going to demand sleep and it may seem like he falls asleep at the drop of a hat."

"Yeah, he just did that," Wilmington said as he sat in the chair by the bed. 'Heart and soul,' he thought and placed his hand on Chris Larabee's shoulder. The strength was there, just below the surface, but it was a reminder of how many times Chris fought his way back from the misery and pain inflicted on him.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah heard the familiar ringing of his cell phone. He picked it up and pressed the button to answer it. "Sanchez," he said.

"Mr. Sanchez, it's Barry Lawrence."

"Captain, is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure. You know we couldn't find the weapon that was used to kill Robert Maguire."

"I know," Sanchez' mind replayed the scene at the mine when Chris passed his ancestor the pearl handled Colt.

"Well, the autopsy has uncovered something very interesting..."

"Interesting, how so?"

"Well, it's like this..."

+ + + + + + +

Josiah walked into the small waiting room they were spending so much time in and sat on one of the empty chairs.

Nathan watched the older man and frowned at the tired edges cropping up on the ex-preacher. He'd known the man for a long time and could sometimes read him as easily as he could read a medical book. Josiah was one of the most spiritual men he'd ever known and that there was something bothering him was obvious.

"Problem, Josiah?"

Sanchez rubbed his forehead and leaned back in the chair.

JD, who was sleeping when he walked in, opened his eyes and sat up He rubbed his fingers against his eyelids and looked at the two men. "What's going on?"

"I just got a call from Captain Lawrence..."

"Is something wrong?"

"Besides the missing gun, you mean?" Sanchez asked, and shook his head at the hint of sarcasm he heard. "Sorry, Nathan."

"It's all right, Josiah. What else did Captain Lawrence have to say?"

"They completed the autopsy on Maguire. It seems that the bullet," he pictured the two men and their ancestors holding the weapon and aiming it at the madman. "C....Chris and Vin fired the gun and their aim was perfect. The bullet entered Maguire's heart and killed him instantly whether he realized it at the time or not."

"He should've suffered more than that for what he did to Chris," Dunne said softly.

"I think we all agree with you there, Son," Josiah said.

"That's not all is it, Josiah?" Jackson asked.

Sanchez shook his head as he remembered the startling news Lawrence had told him. "No it's not." He rubbed his hands together and stood up. "There was no bullet in Maguire's body."

"So it went right through," Jackson asked.

"No. The entry wound was there and so was the damage caused by the bullet, but there was no exit wound."

"How can that be?" Dunne asked.

"It's another mystery we simply have to chalk up to everything that's happened. The only thing I can think of is that the bullet returned with our ancestors the same way the gun did. Chris' great, great grandfather took that gun back with him and somehow the bullet was also meant to go back. It's something we'll never be able to explain, we just have to believe it happened. Trust in our eyes and in our hearts that it was meant to be." The three men grew silent as they thought about the truth of Josiah's words. Some things were destined to be and this was one of them.

+ + + + + + +

Orrin Travis stepped off the elevator and walked to the nursing station. Anyone who saw his face would've seen a man with a tough exterior, while inside he seethed at what had been done to his men. He knew most of the details and understood that Vin Tanner would probably be released in a few days, but Chris Larabee was looking at an extended stay in the hospital.

"Orrin?" He turned to see Buck Wilmington standing across the hall.

"Buck, how are they?" he asked as he hurried towards the ladies' man.

"Vin's doing well, but he still gets those damn headaches. Dr. Milano says he'll have those for a while."

"That's to be expected with a concussion of this magnitude. Chris?"

"They took him off the ventilator earlier, but he's not out of the woods, Orrin. Maguire did a hell of a job on him."

Travis could tell the man was hurting inside. He knew Wilmington had a heart of gold and how much these men, especially Chris Larabee meant to him. He remembered how devastated Buck was when Sarah and Adam were murdered and Chris pushed him away as if that friendship meant nothing. They all realized this was not true, but it was Chris' way of pushing away those who cared about him. It didn't work, but Buck was hurt by the words Larabee used. He remembered how hard it was for all of them to see Chris drinking as if nothing else mattered. The one man who could've helped was deep undercover in a foreign country and they had no way of contacting him. Vin's horror at what happened to his best friend's family was written on his face when he returned home. The thought that he wasn't there when Larabee needed him had plagued his mind for months until the blond finally came full circle and dealt with his loss. It took the six men to hold things together and bring Chris back into the fold. Now it appeared the same thing would have to be done, only this time they were all here and could help Chris and Vin deal with the aftermath of Robert Maguire's appearance in their lives.

"Has Chris been awake?"

"He wakes up for short periods, but he's weak and falls back to sleep after only a couple of minutes. He seems like he's always in pain, but hopefully what they're doing now will help that."

"What are thy doing?"

"Hooking him up to a morphine infusion pump so he won't have to ask for anything. Dr. Barrett doesn't want him in pain when it's not necessary."

"Buck, tell me how badly he's hurt?"

Wilmington ran down the list of injuries to Larabee's body and included the fact that Maguire forced Chris to ingest LSD as well. They all knew what the drug did to a man's mind and the possibility of after effects. That was one of the things that had them all worried. The two men looked towards the door to Larabee's room as it opened and the nurse smiled at them.

"Looks like they're done," the ladies man observed as a second nurse left the room. The two men walked towards the open door and Buck stayed in the doorframe as Orrin Travis got his first look at the injured man. He knew Travis sometimes appeared to be a hard ass, but when it came to the men of The Firm, he had a tough time keeping his feelings in check.

Orrin walked into the room just as the nurse finished making notes on her patient's chart. He stepped up to the bed and looked down at the pale, bruised features, before lifting his head and meeting the eyes of the nurse. "How is he?"

Chris heard the familiar voice and peeled his eyes open. He forced a thin smile to his face at the sight of the older man. "O...Orrin." His voice came out garbled through the oxygen mask still covering his face, but his boss heard him.

"Hello, Chris, how are you?" Travis asked. He could see the deep bruising covering Larabee's chest and running below the stark white sheet that covered his lower body. The white bandage covering his shoulder and part of his upper arm. There were also bandages covering both wrists and the older man knew this was from Larabee's being chained to a beam in the mine.

"I'm fine," the injured man said and smiled as the judge's rich laughter floated around him.

"Sure you are, Son, when are you gonna come up with a new line?" Larabee grinned sheepishly at the judge's question. Travis grew serious as he looked into the glazed green eyes and saw the evidence of both physical and mental pain. What he saw was a living hell in a pair of deep pools of sea green.

"You're far from fine, Chris, but you will be. We're all here and we're gonna make damn sure you and Vin take the time to heal..."

"Thanks, Orrin," Larabee whispered tiredly. The drugs being fed into his body were making it hard for him to stay awake for long periods of time and he sighed as his eyes slid closed.

Travis sat for a few minutes watching as the injured man seemed to drop off to a restful sleep.

Chris' sleep was far from restful as nightmares invaded the rest his mind and body craved. He lay quietly on the bed while his mind was in turmoil. His arms were once more tied over his head and his ankles were similarly held in a tight grip. He recognized the chamber of horror he'd been held captive in and choked back the scream threatening to escape his arid throat. He swallowed painfully as Robert Maguire walked towards him holding something in his hands. At first it was unclear, but as the man came closer Chris had little doubt as to what he saw. Long brown hair was held tightly in the madman's grip. Soft brown eyes stared back at him from a familiar face, a face he knew and loved beyond life. The mouth that was once vibrant and warm beckoned to him with screams of rage and pain.

'You did this to me, Chris. You said you'd be there and would always protect us, but you ran out. We're dead because of what you did.'

'No! Sarah, please, I didn't...'

'You may not have lit the fire but you brought her into our lives.'

Maguire's dead eyes laughed mockingly at the look of horror on his victim's face. 'See Christopher, you kill everything you touch. You should've been honoured that I was willing to end your suffering and save the lives of your future victims. Now you'll have to stand there and know you're the cause of their deaths. Everyone you're close to will die and you will watch them. Shall we start with..."

Chris watched as the madman tossed the lifeless head aside and picked up another. The sight was too much for him and he screamed, screamed loud and long as the head was tossed before his feet. 'No! God, no!' he cried.

Orrin watched as the blond head began to toss on the white pillow. He saw the nurse look up at the monitor and knew something was wrong. "What's going on?" Travis asked as she saw the concern on the woman's face.

"He's dreaming," she explained as she placed her hand on the bare left shoulder.

'No!' Chris cried as the madman continued to taunt him with reminders of the people he loved, but was destined to lose. Small grunts of pain escaped the injured man as he fought the nightmares. He twisted his body on the bed and ignored the agony he was causing himself as he tried to escape his own personal demon.

"Chris, it's just a dream. You're safe," she looked up as Wilmington entered the room and Travis moved out of the way.

"Hey, Pard, what's going on?"

Chris fought to close his eyes, to wipe out the evidence of the horror being displayed before him. Each time they closed a scream would erupt and his eyes would open, he'd gasp and fight to breathe as Maguire reached for something else to torture him with. 'No!' he gasped as Robert Maguire threw the final offering before him and started towards him. The closer the man got the more difficult it became for Chris to draw a breath. He began to thrash on the bed in his efforts to escape the nightmare world infringing on reality.

Caitlin knew they needed to calm her patient, but nothing was getting through to him. Even the dark haired man standing on the opposite side of the bed was unable to break through whatever nightmare held Chris Larabee in its grip. She reached for the button on his bed and told the nurse to have the doctor paged. She knew Barrett had left for the day, but there would be someone on call.

Chris continued to fight for air, but to no avail. 'B...bas...tard!' he cried breathlessly as Maguire's icy fingers reached out and touched his cheek. As soon as the contact was made something burned into him and he cried out. "NO!"

Part 15

Vin came awake with a start and sat upright in the bed. He gasped and tried to suck in air as the nightmare he'd been having replayed before his eyes.

"Vin, it's okay," Dunne tried to get through to the other man.

Vin slid his legs over the side of the bed, even as he forced his eyes open. "JD get me to Chris' room."

"Vin..."

"Now, JD, or I'll fuckin' go myself!" He stood on shaky legs as the dream continued to plague him. Flashes of Chris twisting in agony stabbed through his mind. The headache that had been a little easier was back, only this time it roared through his body as well as his head. He swayed on his feet and felt JD reach for him. "JD, please...you gotta get me t...the..."

"I will, Vin, just sit down for a minute while I get the wheelchair." He eased Vin back on the bed and hurried out the door.

+ + + + + + +

"What's wrong, Caitlin," James Magruder asked as he entered the room.

Caitlin knew the Trauma doctors kept each other up to date on their patients and she knew this man didn't need a list of the man's injuries. "He started having trouble breathing and we can't seem to wake him up."

Buck listened to the doctor and nurse talk about Chris Larabee and turned to see the others standing outside the door. He saw the worry and concern on their faces as they looked into the room.

"Buck, the doctor wants us to leave," Travis grabbed the trembling man's arm as he led him from the room. They stopped just outside the door as another nurse entered the room.

Buck turned towards the elevator just in time to see a very pale Vin Tanner being pushed towards them by JD Dunne.

Vin held his head in his hands as he saw the others standing outside Chris' room. He knew his dream had been right and that Chris was having problems. He heard the commotion going on in the room and heard the doctor say something about having to put Larabee back on the ventilator. "God, No!" Vin cried as he joined his friends.

+ + + + + + +

Magruder worked diligently with the nurses but nothing seemed to get through to the man on the bed. "Get ready to intubate!"

"No! Buck, push me in there!"

"Caitlin, close the door!"

"No! Dammit, listen to me!" Tanner said as he stood up too quickly and swayed on his feet. "Just let me talk to him!"

"There's no time..."

"Yes, there is, Doc, please don't put him on that damned machine again. Just give me a chance."

"You've got as long as it takes us to set up to intubate him!" Magruder snapped.

"Buck, get me in there!" Tanner said as he dropped into the chair. He felt the chair pushed forward and as soon as he was in reach he placed his hand on Larabee's shoulder. "Hey, Cowboy, you having problems? Come on now, ya gotta relax or they're gonna hook up that damned ventilator again. I know you don't want that to happen, so just calm down and listen to me."

The soft Texan drawl broke through the pain and nightmares and Chris sucked greedily for air. The pain speared through his left side and he coughed harshly, crying out as the tube seemed to grate against his flesh.

Magruder stared from one man to the other as Larabee seemed to calm down before his eyes. The softly spoken words seemed to get through whatever was causing the panic in the injured man. He watched as the eyelids fluttered and finally opened.

"V...Vin, Buck," Larabee whispered as he saw the two men standing beside the bed.

"Hey, Stud, ya 'bout scared the life outta all of us," Wilmington said as he watched the green eyes.

"S...sorry," the blond apologized softly.

"Mr. Larabee?"

Chris turned and faced an older man dressed in white and frowned at him. "W...who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Magruder. I work with Dr Barrett. How are you feeling?"

"I'm..."

"Fine," Tanner finished for him and three smiles were born with those two words. "Tell him the truth, Chris."

Larabee tried to sit forward in the bed, but a hand on his shoulder stopped any further movement.

"Mr. Larabee, it would be better if you stayed still."

Chris realized the man was right as each move caused him to feel everything that was done to him. He sucked in air and tried to remove the oxygen mask. A soft hand on his made him stop.

"This stays put, Chris," Caitlin explained as Magruder went over the readings on the monitor.

"Caitlin, he seems to have stabilized, but I want you to repeat his blood gases just to be sure."

"Yes, Doctor," Caitlin said as she readied to take the blood from the injured man.

Magruder looked into the patient's eyes and then listened to his chest. He frowned as he heard congestion building on his lungs. "Breath in," he ordered again and listened as Larabee did as he was told only to moan as he coughed harshly.

"Sh...it," the blond wheezed as he closed his eyes.

"Don't fight it, Mr. Larabee, you need to cough to get rid of the congestion."

"I kn...ow," the blond gasped as pain lanced through his side. He felt Wilmington's hand on his shoulder and smiled at the ladies' man. "It's o...kay, Buck," he assured his friend.

"Mr. Larabee, how's the pain right now?" Magruder asked as he looked into the blond's eyes once more.

"Its not too bad," Chris answered as he tried to move once more. "What's wrong with my leg?"

"Your hip is broken and we'd rather you didn't move around too much. Now I'm gonna leave you in Caitlin's capable hands, but I want you to rest as much as you can and if you get the urge to cough don't fight it!"

"I won't," Larabee told him and glared at the snickering men standing beside the bed.

"You may be facing pneumonia if you don't!" Magruder warned. "Gentlemen, don't stay too long."

"We won't, Doc," Wilmington said as the physician left.

"Caitlin, have me paged if there are any more problems."

"I will, Dr. Magruder."

Larabee stared at the man sitting beside the bed. He could see the fading bruise from where the younger man had been shot in the head. He closed his eyes as he fought to get his churning stomach under control. His belief that Tanner was dead was put to rest at the mine, yet he couldn't help staring into the blue eyes. The nightmares he was suffering from were a constant reminder of how easily his friends could've been killed by Maguire. The man's face continued to haunt him, whether he was awake or asleep. He didn't realize he'd been drifting until a hand touched his arm. He turned a weak smile on the sharpshooter.

"I'm okay, Vin," he lied as a shudder ran through him. "Just tired right now."

The tracker knew it was a lie, but he understood Chris wasn't ready to talk about what happened. He knew it would do no good to try and force the blond to talk, it would happen when he was ready. "Ya want us to leave you alone?"

"N...No!" he knew his voice sounded pleading, but for once he didn't care. "Don't go...not yet."

"I won't," Tanner assured him.

Caitlin finished taking the blood samples and passed them to the second nurse who helped her and Magruder. "Thanks, Marcia," she said as her friend left. She listened to Larabee's voice and knew he was exhausted, yet she understood why he didn't want to sleep. She'd watched his face while he was sleeping and could tell he was being haunted by nightmares. She knew some of the story about what he'd been through and wondered about the cruelty of human beings. How any man could do something like this to another man was beyond her.

Chris listened to Vin and Buck talking softly, yet none of their words penetrated his mind. He knew something was wrong and his eyes snapped open. "Jesus, Vin, kill them!" he cursed as heat raced through his body.

"Chris, take it easy!" Buck said as he watched the dawning horror on Larabee's face.

"Oh, Jesus, they're killing me," Larabee watched as tiny spiders crawled over his skin. Their legs sent shivers of rippling pain through his body and he shifted upwards away from them.

"Chris, it's okay," Tanner tried, but his voice had no impact on his friend.

"What's wrong with him?" Buck asked the nurse as Larabee continued to cry out, sometimes in pain and sometimes in horror.

Vin was quiet as he watched his friend, there was something familiar about what he was seeing and he tried to grasp it.

Larabee twisted on the bed even as the nurse pressed the button to call for help. "No!' he screamed as the tiny creatures nipped at his skin and tore into his body. His hands pushed and shoved at the scurrying arachnids as wave after wave of pain and nausea raced through him.

"Shit!" Vin cried as he realized what was happening. "He's having a flashback."

"What?" Wilmington asked as he tried to keep his friend on the bed.

"A flashback. Maguire gave him LSD and he's tripping."

Magruder rushed back into the room and frowned at the scene that met his eyes. The patient was twisting and crying out as if something was crawling all over him. He heard what Tanner had said and knew he needed to do something fast. "Caitlin, get the restraints!"

"Shit, Doc, do you have to?" Wilmington asked.

"He's gonna do himself more harm than good like this," he warned. "You two are gonna have to leave."

"Doc, its a flashback!" Tanner warned. "He was forced to take LSD!"

"All right! Now get out of here!" He didn't wait to see if the two men left as he took the Velcro restraints and attached them to the bed and Larabee's arms, making sure he kept them above the bandages already covering the wrists.

Chris fought to get away from the visions slamming into his mind. He knew in his heart they couldn't be real, but each time he tried to shut them out he felt the mandibles bite into his body. He struggled to get away, but his strength was slowly leaving him. The spiders began to change, taking on new features, and elongated bodies and again a scream erupted from his throat. His breath came in hitching gulps as he tried to bring air into his lungs. He fought to get the images under control as he felt his wrists encircled by something and his movement was severely limited. Pain didn't register as he shifted his leg on the bed, but that movement was also curtailed and he cried out in rage.

Magruder knew he needed to get the patient calmed down and began talking softly to him. He didn't want to resort to drugs to calm him, but if Larabee continued to struggle the result could be damaging to his recovery. He knew from previous studies how important it was to talk calmly and try to get through to the victim.

"Chris, listen to me," his voice was smooth and even, devoid of any sense of urgency as he spoke to the injured man. "You're fine. There's no one around here to hurt you."

Chris continued to struggle, but the spiders were of no concern as his body seemed frozen in place. Maguire slowly walked towards him, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw the long needle in his hand. The hated voice spoke to him, the words taunting and painful, yet he could not drown them out. He screamed, deep and guttural, pain lancing through his skull as he fought to get away from the sharp needle coming towards his eye.

"Get that fucking thing away from me!" Larabee screamed as his body refused to obey his commands.

"Caitlin!" Magruder called to the nurse and ordered a dose of Valium and watched as the nurse drew the drug into a syringe. "Come on, Chris, listen to my voice. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Fuckin' Bastard, kill you!" Larabee hissed, spittle dripping from the corners of his mouth as his head whipped back and forth on the bed. The nurse quickly injected the requested meds into his IV.

"Get Mr. Tanner back in here," Magruder ordered softly. He continued to talk to Larabee in an effort to get him to calm down. He knew it wouldn't take long for the Valium to take affect, but he still wanted Larabee to see one of his friends before he went to sleep. He heard the wheel chair being pushed up to the bed. "Talk to him, Mr. Tanner."

"Hey, Cowboy, how are you doing?"

The haunting voice was back, but this time there was something different about it. It didn't cause the same horror or pain that the first one had. It didn't pinch his skin or bore into his body as the spiders had. He felt a calmness seeping past the pain and anger and slowly opened his eyes. He swallowed painfully, his throat dry, his body shaking as he tried to control his warring emotions. He licked his lips and frowned as he tried to move his body. His arms and legs were immobile and he turned a terrified gaze on the man sitting beside him.

"V...Vin," he croaked desperately.

"I'm right here, Chris. Ya just hang on and I'll watch your back."

"Tired," Larabee mumbled through dry lips.

"Mr. Larabee, don't fight the medication. Just rest and sleep."

Chris turned to the doctor and tried to decipher his words. The combination of exhaustion and drugs were pulling him under and he turned back to his friend. "Be here....wake up?" he asked and knew he should feel guilty as he saw the IV running into the younger man's arm.

"I'll be here..."

"Chris, Vin needs to sleep. I'll stay with you."

Larabee smiled thinly as he felt his body and mind give into the need for sleep. "Buck, stay. Vin...sleep...Nathan give ho...rse p...piss," he smiled as his face relaxed in sleep.

"Horse piss?" Buck asked.

"I don't know, Buck," Tanner laughed, yawning tiredly. "Doc, will he be okay?"

"He should sleep for several hours, but you need to know he could have more flashbacks like this. I want the restraints left where they are right now," he said as he examined Larabee's leg and hip. "Caitlin, I want X-rays to make sure he didn't damage the hip further."

"I'll call them right away, Doctor," the nurse answered.

"Mr. Tanner, let one of your friends take you back to your room and get some sleep."

"Looks like Orrin's coming to get you, Vin," Wilmington told the younger man as the healer came into the room.

"Take care of him, Buck," the sharpshooter said as Travis took the handles of the chair and wheeled him from the room.

"I will, Vin." Buck sank into the chair and settled in for a long night. He watched the doctor make notes in the chart and then nodded to him as he left.

+ + + + + + +

Orrin wheeled the chair into the room and helped the younger man onto the bed. He knew how hard it was on Vin to see Chris going through the flashbacks and pain. He also realized they'd have to make sure the sharpshooter didn't neglect his own health.

"Lie down, Vin," Travis ordered. He could see the tracker was in pain as he eased down on the bed.

Vin pulled his legs over the edge of the bed, but didn't lie down. The room was spinning once more and his stomach churned. He saw Travis reach for the basin and was grateful to him as he lost the contents and eased back on the bed in misery once more.

"Vin, I'm going to get your nurse," Travis told him.

"D...don't need her," the injured man mumbled.

"Yes, you do. You don't need to be strong all the time, Vin. We'll take care of both you and Chris." He pressed the button on the pillow and his call was instantly answered.

Vin heard Travis tell the nurse that he'd been sick and was in pain. "Thanks, Orrin," he muttered as he curled into a ball on his left side. He had no idea how long he laid in misery, but he knew it couldn't be much longer than a minute or two.

"Vin, I've got Morphine and Zofran for you."

"Thanks, Mandy," he said, but didn't open his eyes.

"I know you want to visit your friend in ICU, Vin, but you can't neglect your own health. Make the visit shorter next time."

"We'll see that he does," Travis assured her as she hurried from the room.

"Go to sleep, Vin," the older man ordered.

"Hmm," the soft voice was barely audible and Travis could tell he was almost asleep. He settled down beside the injured man and picked up a magazine from the table.

+ + + + + + +

Chris tried to move and frowned as his arms and legs refused to move. He moaned softly as pried his eyes open. Memories came back and he looked to his right, smiling thinly at the worried brown eyes looking back at him.

"How are you feeling, Chris?" Jackson asked.

"Like I went a couple of rounds with that wrestler JD likes," Larabee moaned softly as he realized how true those words were.

"The Rock?"

"Yeah," Larabee answered softly.

"Chris?"

The blond turned his head and smiled at the nurse standing beside the bed. "Anne?"

She smiled at him, and Chris wasn't surprised when it lit up her face. "That's right, Chris. I'm gonna be looking after you tonight and I want you to know that if things get really bad I can increase the morphine," she explained.

"I w...will," Larabee said as he lifted his head and looked at his arms. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Chris, you had a flashback..."

"Flashback?"

"From the LSD Maguire made you take," Jackson answered.

"God Dammit!" Larabee swore and felt tears well up in his eyes.

"Easy, Chris," Anne said as she took a cloth and washed his face. She could tell how much it would affect this man if he let the tears fall and she saw them. She nodded at the medic as he smiled gratefully at her.

"How long do these stay on?"

"Dr. Magruder wants them left on at least overnight, Chris. If there are no further episodes they'll be removed in the morning," the nurse explained.

"Just overnight, Chris," Jackson assured him as he patted his friend's shoulder.

"Chris, I'm going to put some cream on the marks on your chest," Anne explained as she took a tube of ointment from the table. "It might sting a little, but it'll feel better once I'm done," she assured him.

"O...kay," Larabee agreed and closed his eyes. He could feel her soft hands as she smoothed the ointment over the healing lash marks on his chest and arms. It did sting for a few seconds, but it felt cool almost as soon as the sting left the wounds. He felt her ease back the blanket and do the same with his thighs and he felt the flush enter his cheeks.

Anne felt him flinch and spoke softly to him. "I'm almost done, Chris. Does it feel any better?"

"Y...yeah," he answered honestly.

"That's good, Chris. Now, I need to do your back, but I'm gonna need a little help with that. Terri is coming in right now to help me. Mr. Jackson, could you move back for a few minutes?"

"I'll be right outside the door, Chris," the medic told him.

"O...okay," Larabee mumbled tiredly. He felt the nurses ease him up and the same gentle touch smoothed the ointment across his back and down to his hips. He swallowed thankfully when they eased him back on the pillow.

"Chris?" Larabee opened his eyes and looked once more at the nurse. "Would you like some water?"

"Yeah, please," he answered softly. A straw was placed at his lips and he took a few sips.

"Anne, let me know if you need me for anything."

"Thanks, Terri, I will," Anne assured her as Nathan Jackson returned. She saw Larabee had stopped drinking and placed the glass back on the table. "Just let me know when you want more, Chris."

The movement had jarred his hip and he bit back a cry of pain. He was tired, yet feared the dreams that awaited him once he surrendered to the darkness. He kept his eyes closed, knowing Jackson would see the fear in them. He didn't want anyone knowing he feared sleep and he almost laughed as he realized the last nightmare had happened while he was awake. 'LSD Flashbacks!' he thought angrily. The pain had a stronger hold on him and he realized it was probably due to the flashback he'd suffered through earlier. He didn't realize he'd made any sound until Anne's soft hand was on his shoulder once more. He looked up at her, expecting to see pity, but there was none there. What he saw was sympathy for what he was going through and he returned her smile.

"Anne, can you? I mean can I..."

"You need another shot?" She saw the slight nod and readied the morphine. She looked at Jackson as she injected the extra pain medication, and knew it wouldn't be long before her patient fell asleep.

Nathan watched as Larabee's face finally relaxed and he seemed to fall asleep. He watched as the nurse replaced the IV bags and added a small bag of antibiotics. He turned towards the door and smiled as JD walked into the room. The kid looked haggard and Nathan knew it had nothing to do with his being tired. Each time the young easterner saw Chris or Vin he seemed to pale considerably.

"How is he doing, Nate?"

"I'm okay, Kid," Larabee answered, surprising both Anne and Nathan.

"That's great, Chris!" JD exclaimed as Jackson stood up and he sat down.

"Chris..."

"Go, Nathan, the kid got my back. Right JD?"

"Right, Chris! You want some water?"

"No thanks, JD."

"Okay. Nathan, Buck and Ezra are waiting for you to go get something to eat," Dunne explained.

"Alright, JD. Chris I'll see you later."

"Get some sleep, Nathan."

"Shouldn't I be the one telling you that?" Jackson smiled as he left the room.

Anne looked up as Dr. Magruder came into the room. "How are you doing, Mr. Larabee?"

"Better," the blond answered as he watched the doctor going over his chart.

"I'm glad to hear that. Your blood gases are okay, but I want you to stay on the oxygen. If it's still okay in the morning maybe we'll switch you to the canulas. The X-rays didn't reveal any new damage to the hip, so we got lucky there..."

"C...can you take these off?" Larabee asked.

"Not tonight," he saw the disappointment in the sea green eyes. "If there are no further episodes tonight we'll dispense with them tomorrow. For now I'd like you to try and sleep."

Larabee let his eyes close without answering. He knew the doctor was doing what he thought was best, but the restraints carried through to his dreams and slammed him back into Maguire's hands. He fought against sleep, but soon drifted off. A soft whimper escaped his lips, but went unheard by the three people in the room.

Part 16

Chris heard Anne and Ezra talking, but kept his eyes closed. He didn't feel like joining in the conversation right now. No amount of small talk would ease the ache in his heart as he remembered the dreams he'd been lost in. They we re bright, strange at times, almost as if he could detach himself from them, yet feel everything that he saw. He knew about LSD trips and bad experiences and he knew some of the dreams were in fact flashbacks, yet none was as severe as the one that caused the doctor to have him restrained. He listened to Ezra regaling Anne with tales of his last trip to Las Vegas and his system for winning at poker.

His mind was drifting again and he forced his eyes open in an effort to stave off the oncoming dreams.

"Hello, Mr. Larabee, I must say you're looking better," Standish said as he moved closer to the bed.

"You may be able to fool people with that poker face, Ez, but you can't lie worth a damn," the blond rasped. He coughed and smiled as the nurse placed a straw on his lips and he took a few small sips. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Are they taking these off?" Larabee asked.

"Not right now, Chris," Anne told him. She'd witnessed a couple of fairly violent flashbacks during the night and Magruder's orders were to keep him restrained until they were sure the flashbacks were over.

"Shit!" he hissed and turned away from the two people.

"They'll take them off soon, Mr. Larabee."

Chris didn't say anything. He kept his head turned to the left and closed his eyes. He coughed softly and felt a pillow pressed against his chest. "Thanks," he told the nurse as he coughed a little harder. He felt two sets of hands ease him on his left side a little as he coughed and the small amount of water he drank came back up.

Anne held him as he vomited and coughed. She massaged his shoulders as the misery he was in, manifested itself in harsh coughs and painful groans. She released his left hand and eased him onto his left side a little more in an effort to ease the pain he was in. She felt him grip the pillow and hold it to his chest as the coughing spurt intensified.

Ezra wished he could do more, but all he could do was talk to the injured man and let him know he wasn't alone. It didn't matter whether the blond understood the words, but Standish was sure Larabee was grateful for the company. Chris Larabee was a private man, but inwardly he craved the comfort only true friends could give. Ezra was still amazed that Larabee and the others included him in the small circle of seven. 'Or is that a circle of fourteen,' he thought as a picture of seven men on horseback flashed through his mind.

Anne eased him back to the bed as the coughing subsided. She reached for a cloth and smiled as the liquid green eyes locked with hers. She released the cloth to his hand and her eyes met Standish' over the bed. She smiled reassuringly at the gambler as they watched Larabee use his left hand to wash his face.

It felt so good to do something on his own, even if it was just to wipe a wet cloth over his face. He savored the freedom of using his hand and wanted to continue to use the cloth indefinitely. His arm grew heavy and dropped beside him on the bed and he felt the cloth taken from his fingers. He kept his eyes closed as Anne reattached the Velcro to his wrist.

"Do you have to?" Standish asked softly.

"It's for his own good," Anne answered.

Ezra sat by the bed and watched the warring emotions flashing across Larabee's face. The conman couldn't remember ever seeing the blond look as vulnerable as he did right now. The incredible array of equipment surrounding The Firm's leader had nothing to do with it. This time the vulnerability came from seeing Larabee in wrist and ankle restraints and not being able to remove them.

"Ez?"

Standish wasn't sure he heard his name at all, but watched as the green eyes opened and looked at him. "Can I get you something, Mr. Larabee?"

"A way out of here," the blond answered simply as he felt the pain medication enter his body and quickly attack the oncoming pain.

"Ah, Mr..."

"It's okay, Ez, I know you can't do that."

Standish sighed in relief. He knew Larabee had been completely serious and also realized if he could've helped his friend escape, he wouldn't have thought twice about it. "So what is it you really want, Mr. Larabee?"

"Just wondering if you still have the card."

"Card?" Standish was confused at first. "Oh, the Ace of Spades."

"Yeah, have you still got it?"

"Sadly, not, I seem to have misplaced it."

"I know where it is."

"You do? How?"

"Don't know," Larabee yawned and forced his eyes open.

"Chris, you need to sleep," Anne told the injured man.

"I will, just gotta tell Ez something," he yawned again and realized he was quickly losing the fight to stay awake. "Dammit!" he swore as he fought the oncoming lethargy. He needed to tell Ezra about the card.

Although Ezra wanted more than anything to hear what Larabee had to tell him he could see the injured man was fading fast. "It's okay, Mr. Larabee, go to sleep. You can tell me..."

"No...I need to tell you..." he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and sank towards sleep.

Anne checked to make sure everything was still recording properly and frowned as she looked at the temperature. It had risen a degree and was sitting at 100.6. She knew it was low grade, but with the antibiotics her patient's temperature should've been coming down, not rising. She checked the leads and made sure nothing had worked loose. She picked up the chart and made a note of her findings. She'd need to keep an eye on his temperature and make sure it didn't go any higher.

Ezra saw the frown on her face and knew something was bothering her. "Anne, is there a problem with Mr. Larabee?"

"His temperature is up a little, but there's nothing to worry about yet. I'll keep an eye on it and let Dr. Barrett know when he comes in tomorrow morning."

"Shouldn't the antibiotics be taking care of any infections?"

"He may need stronger ones, Ezra."

Standish nodded and settled back to watch the injured man. He frowned as he realized Larabee seemed to really think he knew where the card was. 'What do you know that we don't, Chris?'he thought as he pulled the deck of cards from his pocket.

+ + + + + + +

"Good morning, Vin."

"Hi, Doc," Tanner spoke softly in an effort not to cause the throbbing pain to flare to an unbearable level once more.

"How are you feeling," Milano asked as she shone a light in his eyes. She could tell he was still in pain as he winced when the light hit him.

"Better than..."

"Last night," she interrupted as she gently probed the area around the bullet wound. "You really have to start listening to your own body, Vin. You may think you're infallible, but I'm afraid that's a mirage. Is your head bothering you now?"

"A little," Tanner answered honestly.

"It's not gonna get any better until you get the rest your body needs. Now, I understand you want to spend time with your friend, but keep it to a couple of minutes at a time. As soon as your head starts hurting or your stomach acts up ask someone to take you back here."

"I will..."

"Vin, a concussion is very serious, especially considering the severity of the one you've suffered. Are you still sick to the stomach?"

"Sometimes."

"Does the Zofran help?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I know you're a stubborn man, but heed your body's warnings and rest when you need to. You're still on a clear fluid diet aren't you?'

"Yes, Ma'am," Tanner winced as he answered the question.

"Are you in pain?"

"Only when I think of clear fluids," he answered with a small grin, and heard the soft unmistakable sound of laughter. He smiled as the laughter tore down the serious woman's defences and he knew she wasn't nearly as hard as she tried to sound.

"Well, once your stomach is able to handle the fluids we'll see about getting you something more substantial."

"Thanks, Doc," Tanner smiled as she walked towards the door.

"You're welcome, just remember what I said." She was gone before he could answer her.

+ + + + + + +

Anne looked up as Derrick Barrett entered the room. She was at the end of her shift, but was waiting for this man to arrive. Larabee's temperature had risen once more and he seemed to be delirious as he cried out in his sleep.

"How's he doing, Anne?"

"Dr. Magruder looked in on him earlier and he was worried about the rise in temperature. He ordered more blood work..."

"Are the results back yet?"

"Yes, Doctor Barrett," she said as she passed the doctor the lab results.

"His white cell count is up," he said with a frown. He turned his attention to the patient and examined the wounds covering most of Larabee's upper body. He listened to his lungs and once again frowned at the lingering congestion there.

Buck stood back and listened as the doctor and nurse talked about his long time friend. He knew they were worried and he understood Larabee wasn't getting any better. He'd spent the night trying to keep the team leader with them. Soothing the nightmares that continued to sap his strength and keep him from sleeping as deeply as he needed to. He watched quietly as Barrett did a complete examination of Larabee's battered form.

"He's got a lot of congestion on his lungs," he wrote up new orders and looked at the nurse. "I'm changing the antibiotics to a stronger one and I want him kept on the full face mask."

"Yes, Doctor," Anne agreed as she took the chart.

"Doc, he's gonna be okay isn't he?" Wilmington asked.

"We're doing all we can to make sure he is, Mr. Wilmington," Barrett answered. "Anne, I've got a couple of other patients to check on, but have me paged if anything changes."

Buck moved back to the bed as the nurse placed a new bag of medication over Larabee's head. "Jesus, Chris, seems like I've been saying this a lot lately, but you need to keep fighting 'cause none of us is ready to let you go." A silent tear tracked down the ladies' man's face as he reached out and touched Larabee's shoulder.

+ + + + + + +

A young woman named Rosie had replaced Anne and Buck had been talking to her non-stop. The woman knew her job and she wasn't distracted from it by the ladies' man. She knew what to check for and when she checked Larabee's temperature she knew it was time to place a call to his doctor. Buck watched her as she pressed the button on the wall and told the nurse who answered to page Barrett.

"What's going on, Rosie?" he asked worriedly. Before she could answer a soft moan sounded from the bed and Chris tried to move around. He watched as the eyes opened to mere slits in the colorful face and knew Larabee was in pain once more.

"Hey, Stud," he spoke softly so as not to startle his friend.

"Bu...ck," Larabee hissed. He moaned loudly as he tried to get away from the fire in his right hip.

"Chris, is your hip bothering you?" Rosie asked.

"Yeah...Hurts like a..." He started coughing and laid his head back in misery. His eyes closed once more as his chest seemed to be torn apart.

"Easy, Chris," Wilmington said as he placed a hand over Larabee's. "Can't you give him something?"

"Not right now, Buck. Chris, concentrate on your breathing. Dr. Barrett is on his way."

"Try...ing," Larabee groaned as his lungs constricted and the tube in his chest seemed to rub against his flesh. He felt the pillow held against his upper body and heard Buck's voice as he talked to him, but nothing calmed the utter agony he felt. "G...od, Buck...I c...can't br...eathe."

"Chris, no more talking. Just calm down and breathe. Nothing else, Just breathing right now!" the nursed ordered.

"...okay..." Larabee concentrated on bringing the oxygen into his lungs, but didn't seem to have the strength to do even that task. A vision swam across his closed lids and he saw Vin Tanner seated beside a bed. He wore a buckskin jacket and his head was bandaged. His hands also sported bandages and Chris saw the blue eyes turn his way. One hand pointed to the bed and Chris saw Nathan sitting on it. He recognized the pale, battered form lying on the white sheets and realized he was seeing what Maguire had done to his great, great, grandfather. His eyes returned to Vin Tanner and he smiled as Vin's ancestor drawled.

'Ya've got a helluva fight ahead of ya, Chris, but if yer anythin' like my Chris ya will come through it. May take a while and ya might wanna give up at times, but yer friend's'll make sure ya got support. Lean on 'em, Chris. Don't try ta do it alone.'

"Th...anks, Cow....boy..." There seemed to be no air and he continued to struggle to draw a breath. He heard a new voice speaking to him and looked up into the familiar face of Derrick Barrett.

"What's his oxygen intake?"

"Ninety and still dropping. Temperature is 103.1, respirations fast," Rosie told him as Larabee continued to cough and struggle for air.

"Chris, listen to me."

"...okay..."

"You're not taking in enough oxygen...."

"Hu...rts..." he coughed again as the doctor ordered Wilmington out of the room.

"I know it does, but we're gonna help you." Barrett turned to the nurse. "We're gonna have to intubate..."

"N...no," Larabee struggled against the restraints holding him to the bed.

"Chris..."

"D...don't, please...no...more," he cried out as the fire in his hip intensified, and his lungs continued to feel as if a band was stretching tighter across his chest and cutting off his already limited air supply.

A blue tinge formed around his lips as the air wheezed in and out of the tired body. Barrett knew there was no question of what had to be done and he nodded as the nurse readied the equipment he would need.

"There's no choice now, Chris. Just relax and we'll get you set up."

"No!" Larabee turned away, denying access to his mouth, but he soon felt a hand on his cheek. He didn't have the strength to fight them, but he wanted to. "I d...on't need...Oh, God!" He cried out as his body betrayed him and he slipped towards unconsciousness. He wasn't quite under when he felt his head pulled back and something pressed against his lips. Again Maguire's taunting voice invaded his pain laden mind, forcing his head back and feeding him the water laced with LSD. He fought with all he had, not wanting to give into Maguire's sick form of torture anymore, not wanting to taste the nightmares that went with the drug. A soft cry escaped, just before something was forced down the back of his throat. Chris Larabee knew what hell was, and right now hell was where he resided.

Barrett finished the intubation process and they quickly hooked the unconscious man up to the ventilator. He checked the readings and made sure everything was working properly before picking up his patient's chart. He placed the chart at the end of the bed and took his stethoscope from around his neck.

"Rosie, I want chest X-rays done immediately," he said as he listened to his patient's breathing.

"Doctor?" Barrett lifted his eyes and looked at her. "He seemed to be having a lot of pain and discomfort in his hip."

"Dammit, I was afraid of that. Tell X-ray to do his hip as well." He looked towards the door and knew Larabee's men were waiting outside. He took a deep breath and replaced the stethoscope. "Page me as soon as the results are in."

"Yes, Doctor," Rosie said. She straightened the thin sheet over the patient's body and checked the readings on the monitor. Buck Wilmington came back inside just as she measured the urine in the collection bag.

"Fuck, Chris, thought you were done with that damn thing!" he hissed as he sank back into the chair and rubbed his eyes.

+ + + + + + +

Vin smiled as he stood up and walked out of his room, using his IV pole as leverage. Milano had agreed he could be up and around, but only if someone followed him with the wheelchair. She told him that the headaches could be severe and devastating and could happen without warning. JD was waiting outside the door and he smiled weakly at the youngest member of the team.

"Hey, Kid."

"You were supposed to wait for me, Vin!" Dunne tried to look stern, but the smile on the pale Texan's face made it impossible. "Shit, Vin, how the hell does Chris give you heck and keep a straight face while he's doing it."

"Chris just has a naturally stern look, Kid. He's had lots of experience frowning," Tanner smiled as he walked slowly towards the elevator. "How's he doing today, JD?" There was silence as the door opened and the two men stepped in. "JD?"

"Vin...I...Ah hell, Vin, he's not doing real good."

"What? Why the hell didn't one of you come get me earlier?" He tapped impatiently on the buttons as the elevator seemed to take forever to descend one floor.

"You were sleeping, Vin."

"I don't give a fu....Shit!!" he hissed as the door began to open. He pushed through them before they'd opened halfway. He turned to the left and headed towards Larabee's room. He was met by a wall of human muscle in the form of Josiah Sanchez.

"Slow down, Vin."

"Let me go, Josiah!" Tanner snarled.

"You can't go in there right now, Vin."

"Why the hell not?"

"X-ray is in there with him."

"What's wrong with him?" Tanner swayed as he felt the headache returning and his arm throbbed in rhythm with his too fast heartbeat. He felt strong hands on his arms and he was eased into the chair. He tried to stand, but the arms held him firm.

"Stay!" Sanchez warned.

"Not a dog..."

"No, but sometimes you need a leash. Now, Dr. Barrett was here a little while ago and Chris was having trouble breathing...

"Ah, fuck, Josiah, don't tell me they..."

"They had no choice, Vin. He wasn't breathing very well."

"So what does Barrett think is wrong with him?" He saw Dunne move over to stand with Wilmington on the right side of the door. Travis, Standish and Jackson stood to the left.

"He's not too sure, Vin, but he thinks Chris could have pneumonia or pleurisy. That's why he's having trouble breathing. He also thinks there could be a problem with his hip."

"God dammit! Hasn't he been put through enough hell?" He lifted his left hand to his head and cried out as the raging storm of pain advanced across his senses.

Sanchez saw the young man's face pale considerably and he knew Tanner was suffering another concussion headache. "Easy, Vin! I think we'd better get you back to your room."

"No! Not yet, Josiah! Not until I make sure he's still with us...with me."

"All right, Vin, but then you go back to your room. I mean it, Vin, you aren't doing Chris any good by neglecting your own health."

"Milano already read me the riot act, Josiah. Stacey Midland would've been proud of her."

"Glad to hear it, Son. Looks like X-rays are done so why don't I take you to see Chris for a couple of minutes.?"

"Thanks, Josiah," Vin kept his eyes closed against the glare of bright overhead lights, but opened them instantly as he was wheeled through the door. He swore under his breath as he saw the tube running into his best friends throat once more. He reached over the side rail just as the nurse lowered it, making it easier for him to touch Larabee. "Thanks," he said gratefully and returned her smile.

Vin looked down at the closed eyes and frowned as he realized how warm Larabee's hand was. He knew his temperature was probably up from whatever was happening with his lungs, but he hadn't expected to feel this kind of heat. 'Shit, Chris, we're back to this again. Buck's hair has turned two shades of gray now. I guess it's a good thing we brought him those bottles of hair dye. Shit, if this keeps up I'll need a couple of bottles myself.'

Chris smiled inwardly at the soothing Texas drawl. He stayed just below consciousness, not wanting to feel the intrusions into his body or the pain he knew would be waiting for him. He sighed heavily and sank deeper, away from the younger man's warm voice and into a nightmare realm where his tormentors were always waiting for him in one form or another. Again he sank deeper, beyond the level of nightmares where nothing existed and although he felt safe, he also felt alone.

"Vin, it's time," Sanchez said as he noticed the squinting eyes and the pain on the young man's face.

"Just a few more minutes."

"Mr. Tanner, go get some rest. You can come back later."

Vin knew there was no choice, his eyes couldn't handle the light anymore. "I'll be back, Cowboy," he promised as Sanchez gripped the handles of the chair.

"Josiah," he said softly.

"Yes, Vin," The ex-preacher kept his voice low in consideration of Tanner's concussion.

"Promise me you'll come get me if anything, and I mean anything at all happens!"

"I promise, Brother," Sanchez said as they left the room.

+ + + + + + +

Derrick Barrett studied the X-rays in his hands and frowned at the news he needed to impart to Chris Larabee's friends. He knew the men were hovering around the ICU, waiting for him to let them know what he found. The news he had was not good and did not bode well for the injured man. He put the X-rays away and took the short walk to the patient's room. He smiled at the two men seated beside the bed as he picked up the chart.

"Did you get the results back, Doc?" Dunne asked.

"I have them. Both X-rays and blood work. I need to set up a few things so if you gentlemen would get your friends and meet me in the waiting room. I'll explain everything there."

"Mr. Dunne, you gather the others and I shall see to our other comrades upstairs."

"Okay, Ezra," Dunne said as he left the room.

"Doctor?" Standish waited for the eyes to meet his. "I take it you don't have good news to impart?"

"No, Mr. Standish, but I'd rather say it once." Ezra nodded and hurried to get Vin Tanner and Josiah Sanchez.

"Rosie, we'll be taking him back to the OR as soon as they have a room set up. Has he woke up yet?"

"No, Doctor."

"Alright, I've written up orders for a new antibiotic. Start running it right away." He passed her the chart and checked the patient's pupils before turning towards the door. "I'll be across the hall talking to his friends. If they call for him before I get back let me know."

"I will," Rosie assured him as she read the new orders.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra raced up the stairs instead of waiting on the elevator. He pushed open the door, nearly colliding with a young patient as he did so.

"My abject apologies," he said as he hurried past him and continued towards Vin Tanner's room. He pushed open the door and saw Sanchez seated beside the window, a book on philosophy open on his lap.

Josiah looked up as the younger man entered the room. His eyes quickly looked at the bed and was not surprised to see the sharpshooter struggling to sit up. The nurse had given him a shot for pain and he was still feeling the effects.

"Ez, what's wrong?" the tracker asked worriedly.

"Dr. Barrett wants to see us in the waiting room," Standish answered as he pushed the chair over to the bed.

"I can..."

"Get in, Mr. Tanner," Standish ordered a little sharper than he intended.

"Don't argue, Vin, one near collapse is enough for one day," Sanchez told him and was pleased when Vin did as he was told.

+ + + + + + +

Barrett watched as the young man was wheeled carefully into the room. He waited until the other two settled on the chair and looked at each one before settling on the injured man and the dark haired, moustached man sitting beside him.

"We're all here, Doc," Wilmington said softly.

"I have the X-ray and lab test results. Chris is a very sick man right now, but we're going to do everything we can to make him well."

"What did the X-rays show?" Jackson asked.

"He's developed pleurisy on the right side and between that and the punctured lung, coughing is something he's not gonna want to do. It'll be hell for him when he wakes up and we do take him off the ventilator."

"When?" Tanner asked.

"Pardon?"

"When will you take him off the damn ventilator?"

"That depends on how well he responds to the antibiotics. I've ordered what we call an antibiotic combo pack and hopefully it won't take long to kick in. Once he's off the ventilator we'll start inhalation therapy with broncodilators. We won't be doing the chest percussion treatments because of the injuries to his chest."

"Thank you, Lord," Sanchez whispered softly.

"Dr. Barrett." The physician looked up as Rosie opened the door. "OR just called. They're ready for you."

"OR...Surgery?" Dunne mumbled.

"Thank you, Rosie. I'm on my way."

"Doc?" Tanner winced as he held his throbbing shoulder.

"Mr. Jackson, as a trained paramedic you know how important it is to treat broken bones immediately."

"Yeah."

"Chris went without treatment for at least two days and from the evidence he was being abused during that time. There's a pocket of infection around the hip fracture and we need to go back in and relieve it immediately."

"Dammit!" Wilmington's explosive temper manifested as he struck the table beside him.

"That won't help, Buck," Jackson said.

"I have to go scrub for surgery..."

"Doc, can I see him for a minute?"

Barrett was about to decline, but the worry in the pain glazed eyes was all he could see. "One minute, Mr. Tanner. Have one of your friends take you there now. As for the rest of you, get some sleep. This could take some time." He held the door as Wilmington pushed Tanner from the room.

Buck wheeled the chair across the hall and into the ICU room where Chris lay silent amongst the jumble of machines and leads. He stood beside Tanner and the two men tried to send their strength to the injured man.

"Hey, Chris, you're gonna prove again what it means to be a Larabee, ain't ya?" Tanner asked.

"It's real important that you stay strong Chris. I wish the hell there was some way I could make things easier for you, but I know that ain't gonna happen. Me, Vin and the boys are gonna be waiting for you when you get back here so just make damn sure ya come back to us."

Chris heard the familiar voices and frowned as he listened to the undertone of worry and pain. He'd been on the verge of waking for a while now, but didn't want to face the things he knew had been done to him. His chest and hip were in contest as to which one was the bigger fire right now, but the two men beside his bed needed him. He forced his eyelids open, feeling as if each one weighed a ton. Slowly he felt the glued lids peel open and he was looking into two sets of limpid pools of blue. He panicked as he realized something really was intruding down his throat and he tried to reach for it, but his arms refused to obey his commands. His tongue moved around the tube and he felt a hand touch his arm. He turned away from the two men and looked at a woman dressed in white.

Rosie saw the panic in the sea green eyes and smiled warmly at him. "Chris, you're on a ventilator, remember?" She saw the panic ease as her words sank in. "Remember you have to let it help you?" Again there was a slight nod and Larabee turned towards his friends.

Vin smiled in spite of his own discomfort, which paled in comparison to what his best friend was going through and would go through. He saw the exhaustion in the blond's eyes and patted his shoulder. "Go to sleep, cowboy. I'll.... we'll be here when you wake up."

"Yeah, Stud, you won't be alone," Wilmington vowed as Larabee's eyes slid closed once more.

"Rosie, OR is calling for him. I'll help you get him ready."

"Thanks, Trudy. Buck, take Vin back to his room. We'll let you all know when Chris is back." She assured the two men.

Vin stood up and bent low to his best friend's ear. He took a deep breath and whispered for only the injured man to hear. "Remember you're a Larabee, Chris!"

'Remember you're a Larabee, Chris!' That simple message followed him into sleep and he smiled thankfully. For the first time it was without the fear and the nightmares that usually waited for him.

Buck wheeled the tracker out into the hall and headed for the elevator, but pulled up short as he saw the others standing outside the door. Like silent sentries they waited for their leader to be brought before them. No one spoke as Buck parked Vin's chair on one side and he took up position on the other.

Vin smiled as he realized Chris was not, nor would he ever be alone. He knew in his heart none of them would ever be alone again. Right now it felt important that they be there when Larabee was taken from the room and up to the surgical floor. They didn't have long to wait as the bed carrying the sleeping man was wheeled from the room. Silent prayers were said as the orderlies passed by the seven men. They watched until Larabee disappeared around a corner and stood silent a few minutes longer.

Jackson looked towards the sharpshooter and moved to take the handles. "Come on, Vin, let's get you settled in your room."

"You guys will let us know when he's back?"

"We will, Vin," Wilmington vowed as Jackson pushed the wheelchair past the group. He smiled as he realized they'd kept the formation until the tracker was wheeled past them. He knew he wasn't the only one to realize how much this showed. How much these two men meant to them all.

+ + + + + + +

Vin opened his eyes and briefly wondered why he felt so uncomfortable. Memory returned and with it the pain of knowing Chris Larabee was once more undergoing surgery. He looked at the man seated in the room with him and smiled as the medic turned his gaze on him.

"How are you feeling, Vin?" Jackson asked.

"Okay," Tanner answered as he shifted his body in the bed and pressed the button to raise his head. "How long have I been out?"

"About three hours," Jackson answered.

"Three hours? Shit!"

"You needed it, Vin..."

"Any word?"

"He's still in surgery. Barrett said it could take some time especially if they found anything else wrong."

"I hope to hell he doesn't."

"Don't we all? They just brought you something to eat."

"Ain't hungry."

"Don't matter, eat it anyway," the medic ordered as he stood up and pushed the tray table over the bed.

"Did you eat, Nathan?"

Jackson smiled thinly at the question and knew what the sharpshooter was saying. "Actually, Vin, I did. We all did."

"I bet it wasn't this sh... stuff."

Jackson smiled as the sharpshooter lifted the spoon and began eating the clear fluids. He settled back in the chair and thought about what this man had been through in the past weeks. A vacation he'd looked forward to, had turned into a nightmare with him shot and Chris kidnapped by a madman. Now that madman was dead, but the evidence of Maguire's cruelty was easily seen in the haunted blue eyes before him.

Vin could feel the medic staring at him and kept his eyes downcast. He didn't want Jackson to see just how hard a time he was having dealing with Larabee's second trip to the OR. His own dreams were filled with images of his friend's tortured body and the pain he'd seen in the green eyes before the blond succumbed to sleep. Chris would have to deal with the injuries to his body, and Tanner was grateful for the pain medications available to him. The problem that plagued the sharpshooter's mind had more to do with the mental pain his friend was bound to suffer. Somehow they'd have to make sure he didn't sink into a well of despair. He took a deep breath as he finished the warm broth and turned to the juice. He drank the liquid without tasting it, letting his eyes close once more as he finished the tedious job of eating.

Jackson knew the younger man wasn't sleeping, but he felt Tanner's need to think. He sat back and relaxed in his chair, leaving his friend to his thoughts. His own mind quickly turned to the surgery being performed on Larabee and he prayed there'd be no new complications.

+ + + + + + +

Buck was alone in the waiting room, the TV on, and the volume turned off. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked at the wall clock for what seemed to be the thousandth time since Larabee was taken to the OR. Sanchez, Dunne and Standish were in the small Chapel on the first floor. Jackson was in the room with Vin Tanner and Orrin Travis had gone to get coffee. He smiled at the thought of the older man, owner and operator of The Firm, doing a coffee run. It didn't really surprise him as the older man was far different than any of his previous employers. Orrin Travis cared about his men, his family as he sometimes called them.

Buck clasped his hands together and cracked the knuckles. Again he rubbed at his eyes and looked at the clock. Chris had been taken to surgery nearly five hours ago and once more he stood up and walked out of the room. He hurried to the nursing station and smiled as the dark haired nurse came towards him.

"Any word?" he asked.

"Chris is out of surgery, Mr. Wilmington. He's just being transferred to recovery and will probably be down here in a couple of hours. Dr. Barrett should be coming down in about half an hour. He said to tell you he'd see you all in the waiting room."

"Thanks, Sheila," the ladies' man said as he hurried to get the others.

+ + + + + + +

Half an hour later seven men waited impatiently for Larabee's doctor to show up. Orrin Travis had returned with coffee and sandwiches, the coffees were in the hands of those present, but the sandwiches were untouched. Seven heads snapped up as the door opened and Barrett stepped into the room.

"How is he, Doc?" Dunne asked before anyone else had a chance to speak.

"Chris came through surgery just fine in spite of what we uncovered..."

"What?" Tanner asked tiredly.

"The infection in his hip was worse than we'd feared, but we were able to clean it up. I had to scrape the bone and replace the stabilizers we used to repair the fracture. We flushed it with sterile water and an antibiotic solution. We've stitched the area back up and hopefully with the strong antibiotic cocktail I've put him on there won't be any further complications."

"Is he still on the ventilator?" Travis asked.

"I'm afraid so. He'll probably be on that for a few days yet. You have to realize he's weak and his lungs were damaged. The left one was punctured by one of his ribs and he's definitely developed pleurisy on the right side."

"How long before you let him wake up this time?" Wilmington asked.

"We've already eased off on the sedatives. I need Chris awake so I can assess how well he's doing. This is where all of you come into play. We're going to keep him restrained..."

"What? Why?" Standish asked angrily.

"He's on a ventilator and I'm sure all of you, especially you, Mr. Jackson, know how panicked a patient can become when he first realizes something is intruding down his throat. It's an invasion into his body and Chris has also had episodes of LSD flashbacks. I don't want to take the chance of him moving around with one of those. LSD flashbacks are extremely dangerous and can be violent. What I need is for all of you to talk to him when you're in the room with him. Assure him that he won't be on the ventilator for long and that the restraints are only there for a short time as well. This isn't gonna be forever, gentlemen..."

"Tell that to Chris," Dunne hissed and felt everyone's eyes on him. "Sorry," he apologized for the sarcastic remark.

"It's okay, Mr. Dunne, I'm used to dealing with family and friends of my patients and I believe you gentlemen are both of those to Chris Larabee."

"That we are, Dr. Barrett," Travis stated.

"How long before he's back in his room?" Sanchez asked.

"He'll be in recovery for at least another hour. Once he comes back to this floor the nurses will need an hour or so to get him situated. They'll let you know when he's ready for visitors," Barrett explained as he stood up to leave.

"Thanks, Doc," Sanchez said as the man headed for the door.

Barrett turned to the men in the room and saw the same look on each face, the look of a man worried about losing something, or in this case someone, that meant a lot to him. "He's lucky he's got all of you," he said as memories of his own stint in the hospital returned. The loneliness, the pain, the fear and no one was there to listen to him or sooth those things away. Chris Larabee was indeed a lucky man not to have to face these things alone. He left the room with the certainty that these men were the real medicine to heal his patient. Not the physical injuries, but the mental ones, and those were the ones that would take time.

Part 17

Chris awoke disoriented and in pain. He didn't know where he was and couldn't remember why he felt as if his body was on fire. He tried to swallow, but again felt something down his throat. Panic settled in and he tried to reach for the obstruction. Sounds reached his ears, but he couldn't distinguish what they were. Terror raged inside him as he fought to move his hands and legs. Nothing mattered anymore except getting free of whatever was happening to him.

"Chris, come on, Son, it's time for you to wake up. You're in the hospital and you're gonna be just fine. You know my voice, Brother, just listen to it and find your way home."

The sounds were starting to clear, but the intrusions into his body continued. His chest hurt, his throat felt blocked off, his head pounded and he couldn't move. 'Christ!'he thought as he shifted his body slightly and felt the pain in his hip intensify.

"Mr. Larabee, we're all here for you," Standish said softly. He saw the lines of strain on Larabee's face and knew there wasn't much they could do about it, except make him realize he was among friends and not trapped with old enemies.

"Chris, we know you hate being in the hospital, but right now it's the best place for you. Those tubes won't be there much longer and you'll be good as new before long," Sanchez soothed.

The sound of Standish' and Sanchez' voices got through and Chris felt a slight tremble run through his body as he realized he wasn't alone. His eyes fluttered until the lids slowly opened to reveal glazed eyes and he turned a solemn gaze on the two men beside his bed. 'God, Josiah, tell them to take it out!' he thought as he fought against the ventilator.

The ex-preacher could read the plea in those eyes and he placed a hand on the blond's shoulder. He looked towards the door as Derrick Barrett walked towards them. "He's awake," Sanchez told him and moved out of the way.

Barrett moved into Larabee's field of vision and smiled at his patient. "Chris, the surgery on your hip went well, but you've got pleurisy and that's why you were having trouble breathing."

'Surgery? Pleurisy?'he frowned as he tried to remember the last time he'd been awake. He thought he remembered this man telling him he needed to be put back on the ventilator and also remembered his arms and legs being restrained. 'What the hell is going on?'he thought as his memories refused to clear.

Barrett could see the confusion and pain written on Larabee's face and he turned to the nurse and ordered a shot of painkiller.

Anne nodded and readied the injection. She cleaned the juncture in the IV line with an alcohol swab and injected the ordered medication as Sanchez and Standish continued to talk to the patient.

"Chris that'll help with the pain and I want you to try to rest. Hopefully we'll be able to take you off the ventilator the day after tomorrow. You're still restrained because of the injury to your hip. I don't want you moving around right now. Do you understand?" The blond head dipped once and he saw some of the fear leave the green eyes. "Good, just relax now. Your friends are here to talk to you and you're safe."

Larabee closed his eyes as the doctor left. 'Safe?' he thought. 'Safe from who?' he drifted off to sleep, wondering who had done this to him.

+ + + + + + +

Vin leaned heavily in the chair, his eyes closed as he pictured the chamber where they'd found Chris. He knew it was late, well past two am, and he was alone for the first time since the ordeal had begun. He'd told the others to get some rest, especially once he'd got a good look at the haggard faces of his friends. He knew Travis had rented rooms at the hotel in Washoe and was making sure the men took advantage of them. If things continued for him he'd be taking advantage of one of those rooms in two days. For now his thoughts were wondering about Chris' fate and how long he'd be spending in the hospital. He knew the blond had a ways to go, especially with the second surgery and the pleurisy, but the worst would be the mental stress he'd be under.

Barrett had been in to see them and warned them about PTSD. The doctor didn't seem surprised when the members of The Firm informed him that Larabee had suffered from it before. They'd been there for their friend then and they'd make damn sure they'd be there for him now. Vin rubbed at his head as he looked out the window before forcing his body upwards. He knew sleep would continue to elude him until he put his fears at rest. Something had been nagging at him since he woke at 1:30 and he was unable to put it to rest. He leaned heavily on the IV pole as he walked to the door. He searched the darkened hallway and was pleased when nothing moved.

Vin walked to the elevator unaware someone was watching him. Someone from another time, dressed completely in black and smiling at him. If he'd turned around he would've caught a shadowy image as the dull light glinted off a familiar set of worried green eyes, as it was the image was gone by the time the door opened and Vin stepped inside.

+ + + + + + +

Anne moved to the bed and gently checked her patient. So far the night had been calm, with Chris Larabee sleeping under the after effects of the anaesthesia and pain medication. Now he seemed to be waking up, but there seemed to be a lot of warring emotions crossing the man's face. She knew he was fighting the endotracheal tube in his throat and unable to respond to her soft, yet firm, words.

"Hello, Chris," she said as the eyelids fluttered and opened to reveal confused green eyes.

Chris struggled with the memories as the sedative effects wore off. His head turned towards the nurse and his eyes pleaded for her to help him. He didn't understand what was happening as creatures only his eyes could see formed on his body. Little animals with wide razor sharp teeth that bit into his soft flesh, tearing into it until a burning pain radiated outwards from each new wound.

'God! No!'he struggled against the pain, but couldn't get away from it. 'Fuck! Vin, Somebody? Anybody? Get them off me!' He tried to scream, but something impeded his breathing, locking off his voice. Making the LSD induced hallucinations and nightmares seem even more real. His mind sank into a tiny world where the only thing he saw were millions of the little creatures attacking him from all angles. He felt his body lifted and once more screamed in fear and rage as he saw Robert Maguire standing before. The man didn't speak, but his mouth opened and more of the creatures slid from the dark maw. Chris looked down at his own body and watched as blood flowed from his torso in a dark crimson tide. 'NO!' he screamed, but the word died in his throat.

"Chris, Come on, Son, it's a dream. That's all! Just a dream! Look at me!" Sanchez pleaded as his own heart seemed to keep pace with the wildly beating rhythm coming from the overhead monitors. He knew Anne had already put in a call for one of Larabee's doctors and that one would probably come rushing through the doors at any second. Right now his mind was focused on stopping Larabee's wildly thrashing body.

"What's wrong?" Tanner hurried into the room and made his way to the bed.

"Thought it was a nightmare, Vin, but he's not waking up!" Sanchez explained as he placed a calming hand on both Larabee and Tanner. He felt the shaking in both lean forms and closed his eyes in prayer.

Vin reached out and took Larabee hand in his own and looked at Sanchez, then at the nurse. "Where's the damn doctor?"

"He's on his way," Anne said as she watched the blond's face for any reaction.

'Bastard!' Chris screamed as his tormentor came towards him. The smile on Maguire's face sent tremors of rage through the blond. His body was being eaten alive by the creatures and still he fought Maguire.

'I am your Lord and Master, Christopher!' Each word was punctuated by the slithering little spiders dropping from Maguire's mouth.

'Never!'

"Chris! Open your eyes and look at me, Cowboy!"

Larabee stared at Maguire as a soft voice and the touch of a hand sent a new strength into him. He looked behind the cause of the nightmare and saw seven figures standing there. He recognised them from the chamber and knew his friends and their ancestors were still protecting him from the aftermath of his time in the clutches of Robert Maguire.

"Keep talking to him!" Anne exclaimed as she watched the change in the monitors. His racing heartbeat was returning to normal, but the blond was still reacting to whatever he was seeing.

"Chris, me and Josiah got your back. The others aren't far away and you just gotta remember that! You're not alone, never was and never will be, Cowboy! Whatever you're seeing ain't real!"

'Not real! Vin, not real!'he smiled as the creatures slowly disappeared back into his tormentors mouth and Maguire simply vanished before his eyes. He swallowed as the seven figures seemed to solidify for a few seconds. They smiled at him and turned away, but unlike the instant disappearance of his tormentor, these men faded and left him with a feeling of warmth.

Four men hurried into the room. None of them had any explanation as to why they met in the lobby of the hotel, hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take them to Washoe Medical Center. They sat in silence during the trip, knowing there was still something unexplainable happening around them. They didn't question this knowledge, knowing it had led them to their missing member, and that he was alive because of a group of seven men from the past.

"Chris, it's all right. You're safe!" Sanchez assured the younger man, his own hands still touching both injured men. He smiled as they were joined by Nathan, Buck, JD and Ezra, making their number complete once more.

'All right. Safe!' Larabee heard the words and knew he was back. The nightmare had ended, but his body was in more pain than ever. His chest hurt, his hip throbbed and the wounds covering his body seemed to be waking up. He forced his eyes open and focused his eyes on the two men standing beside his bed.

"Hey, Cowboy," Tanner grinned tiredly. "Ya look like shit!"

'You too,' Larabee sent through the silent signal and saw the smile broaden on the pale face.

"What's going on, Anne," a silver haired man asked as he stepped into the room. He frowned as he saw the six men standing around the bed. "You men shouldn't be here!"

"Yeah, we should, Doc," Wilmington smiled as the blond gazed at each one of them. There was pain in the sea green orbs, but there was also recognition and for that the ladies' man was grateful. He smiled at his long time friend. "Ain't that right, Pard?" He saw the blond head dip once, but his smile quickly vanished in the wake of Larabee's pain filled gaze.

"Mr. Larabee."

Chris turned to face the newcomer and frowned at the older man before turning to Vin Tanner.

"Put away the scowl, Chris. He's a doctor."

"Chris, this is Dr. Frobisher," Anne explained as she got Larabee's attention once more.

"If you gentlemen would leave for a few minutes I'd like to examine the patient," Frobisher said.

"Chris, we'll be right outside the door," Jackson said. Larabee's blond head bobbed once as the six men left him in the care of the doctor and nurse.

Frobisher checked the readouts on the monitor and frowned at what he saw. "Do you know what caused the increased heart rate, Anne?" he asked as he took the stethoscope and listened to the patient's breathing.

"He's been having nightmares about what happened to him," the nurse explained.

"Chris, I'm going to have Anne give you something for pain." He saw the head bob once and smiled at the injured man. "I know you feel pretty bad, but I assure you it will get better." He watched as the nurse fed the morphine into Larabee's IV line and then stood back from the bed. "Anne, his temperature is still quite high. I'm making a note of it on his chart, but make sure Dr. Barrett knows this. Have me paged if there's any more problems."

"I will Dr. Frobisher." Anne picked up the cloth from the basin and washed her patient's face as the doctor left the room. She smiled at the green eyes looking up at her. "That shot should make you feel more comfortable, Chris. You're friends are coming back in." She watched as his eyes turned towards the door. "I'll let them stay for a couple of minutes, then I must insist they let you get some rest. Gentlemen, you have five minutes, then I want Mr. Tanner back in his room and all of you to go get some rest. Understood?" She placed her hands on her hips and forced a stern look on her face. "Understood?" she repeated.

"Yes, Ma'am," Sanchez laughed as he snapped a quick salute, that brought a smile to every face in the room.

Chris heard the laughter and smiled inwardly. Somehow that sound always soothed his ravaged nerves, whether he was in pain or just needed a lift, these men would see that he got it. He knew it was the same for all of them and was grateful he'd found the six men he called family. He smiled inwardly as each man bid him goodnight and assured him they'd be there first thing in the morning. Finally he was left with one man, one brother, who seemed to know when he was needed and for that, Chris Larabee would be forever grateful.

"Chris, if you need me I'll be here," Tanner said as he placed his hand over Larabee's heart and was glad to see understanding in the green eyes. "Sleep well, Pard," he said as the green eyes closed. 'I'll be here, Chris, I always will,' he silently vowed.

Larabee opened his eyes and watched as the younger man left the room. 'I think you always have been. All of you,' he thought. He closed his eyes and saw thirteen men as he drifted off to sleep.

+ + + + + + +

"All right, Vin," Milano said as she finished examining her patient. "I think we can dispense with the IV and put you on a solid diet again."

"That's great, Doc..."

"Not so fast, Vin," she smiled as he tried to get out of bed. "This doesn't mean you're cured, you know? You haven't been discharged and won't be for a day or so. I want to make sure you're keeping things down. You also have to realize the headaches are from the concussion and could come on at any time. If that happens you need to heed the warnings and lie down. A head injury like yours is nothing to mess around with."

"I know, Doc, believe me there ain't much I can do when I get one of 'em."

"Good," Milano told him as she closed his chart. "I'll send in a nurse to take out the IV. Any problems or pain you let them know and they'll give you something to help you."

"So when do I get out of here?" Tanner smiled at the older woman.

Milano laughed as she looked into the blue eyes. She knew this young man could probably melt hearts when he wanted to. "Ask me again tomorrow, Vin," she flashed him a smile of her own.

"So I can get out of here tomorrow?"

"No, I said ask me again tomorrow. We'll see how you're doing then. I know you're anxious to go visit Mr. Larabee so I'll just say this once. Don't overdo things!"

"I won't," Tanner said as she walked to the door.

"I'll believe that when I see it, Vin," she said as she left him alone.

Vin stood up, wincing as his shoulder protested the movement. He steadied himself and walked towards the window. He sat in the chair and waited for the nurse to come in. He smiled as an elderly woman with brown hair streaked with silver came towards him.

"Hi, Vin, Dr. Milano says I can get rid of the IV for you," she said in a singsong voice.

"Yeah," Tanner smiled as she started removing the tape. It didn't take long for her to remove the tape and the IV and she quickly put pressure on the tiny puncture wound.

"There, that should hold you," she said as she placed a bandage over the tiny puncture wound.

"Thanks, Bernice," Vin said as he stood up.

"You're welcome, Vin," the nurse said as she left the room with the IV pole in her hand.

The tracker stood and walked to the bed. He picked up the extra gown and wrapped it around his shoulders. 'Have to get the boys to bring me in some real clothes,' he thought as he tied up the strings with one hand. He reached for the hospital issued paper slippers and sat back in the chair to pull them on. He looked at the wall clock and saw it was a little after 7:30am. He hurried from the room and across to the elevator. He pressed the button and entered as soon as the door was open. He knew Chris was probably still sleeping, but the urge to see him was strong. He waited for the door to open on the next floor and hurried out. He frowned as he noticed the drapes were pulled across and he couldn't see into the room. He saw Buck Wilmington pacing back and forth in front of the room.

"Buck, what's wrong?"

"Vin, hey ya got rid of the IV!" Wilmington said as he walked towards the younger man.

"Buck?"

"Oh, Sorry, Vin, they're suctioning the damn tube in his throat."

"Damn!" Tanner swore as he looked at the closed door. "How much longer?"

"They just started. The doctor's in there too, says he wants to check Chris' hip and all the other stuff."

"How's he doing this morning?"

"He looks like shit, Vin. I can tell he's still hurting, but he can't do much more than move his eyes and hands. Yeah, they still got him restrained."

"Did the doc say how much longer they'll keep him tied down?"

"Not yet, but I aim to find out as soon as he comes outta that room. He's also worried about the fever Chris has. He figures it should be going down by now."

"What's he gonna do about it?"

"Not much more they can do, Vin. He's on one of the strongest antibiotic cocktails they got."

"Dammit, there's got to be more they can do." He swore as he leaned against the wall. He knew the encroaching headache had more to do with stress and worry than with the concussion, but it didn't make it any less painful.

Buck watched as Tanner's face paled even further and he grabbed a wheelchair from the nursing station. He hurried back to his friend and touched his shoulder.

"Sit down before you fall down, Vin."

The sharpshooter tried to argue, but one look from the ladies' man had him easing into the chair. "Thanks, Buck," he said gratefully.

Buck nodded once and leaned heavily against the glass enclosed room.

Part 18

Chris tightened his grip on the blankets as the new nurse began suctioning the tube in his throat. He hated the feeling it caused, but knew he couldn't stop what they were doing to him. He prayed for it to be over as he struggled against the intense feelings. His arms and legs remained immovable as the restraints held him fast. He could see Dr. Barrett standing beside his bed and making notations in his chart. He felt the sweat form on his own brow and slowly slide down his forehead.

"Not much longer, Chris," Barrett assured his patient as he watched the green eyes open slightly. They didn't stay open for long as Larabee clenched them tightly shut once more.

"All done, Chris," Becca assured him as she finished suctioning the hose and reattached the ventilator.

Chris felt the ventilator take control once more and opened watery eyes. He felt the nurse's hand on his shoulder and saw the sympathy in her eyes. His attention turned towards the doctor as the man took his stethoscope and listened to his lungs. The pain in his chest outweighed everything else in his body and he winced as the Barrett eased him onto his left side a little.

"Okay, Chris, I think that's it for today." He saw the question in the sea green gaze and looked deep into his patient's eyes. "Do you remember why you're back on the ventilator?" He saw the head shake slightly and confusion replaced the questioning look in the eyes. "Do you remember why you're here?" The head nodded once. "Good. You're on a ventilator because you've been having trouble breathing on your own. If things improve we may be able to get rid of it tomorrow. Right now you're dealing with a punctured lung and pleurisy and it's gonna make you pretty uncomfortable for a while. What I'd like you to do is get as much rest as you can and don't fight the ventilator. Becca is going to give you something to ease the pain right now and we'll be hooking the morphine infusion pump back up today. I don't want you in pain when there's no need of it, Chris, so relax and accept the help. Okay?"

Larabee knew he couldn't do without the medication and he nodded slowly. He looked forward to the time when he could speak instead of trying to make everyone understand his gestures. He tried to move his hands and again turned his gaze on the doctor.

Barrett frowned until his eyes caught sight of his patient's hand movements. "The restraints?" Again a slight nod of the head. "Hopefully we can dispense with those tomorrow as well." He saw the hope flare in the green eyes and smiled as he patted the bare shoulder. "I said hopefully, Chris. It all depends on how things go over the next twenty-four hours." He saw the hope dashed before it had a chance to be born and knew this man hated being tied down. He watched as the lids dropped over the sadness harbored in those eyes and sighed heavily. "Chris?" He waited for the eyes to open and focus on him. "I know that was probably not what you wanted to hear, but things will get better."

'Sure they will, Doc,'Chris thought and then berated himself for the self pity. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the self condemnation he felt. 'Shit!' he silently swore as the tears slipped past his closed lids. He felt someone at his IV line and was grateful when the pain medication entered his system.

"Chris, do you feel like visitors?" Barrett asked softly, knowing this man needed company, more than he needed rest. He knew from his own experience just how much the mind wandered when left alone. The trips back in time to his own torture were sometimes as hard as the real thing had been.

Larabee heard the question, but didn't open his eyes as he nodded slightly.

"We're just about done here so I'll let them know they can come back in. Becca, make sure he doesn't overdo it. Chris your friends can stay with you, but you need to rest as well." Barrett left the room, passing a lab technician as he did.

"I need to take some blood from Mr. Larabee."

"Okay, Susan. Chris as soon as Susan is finished I'll let the others come in," Becca said as she washed his face. She watched as the lab tech checked the wristband on her patient's arm, opened the A line, flushed it and extracted the blood samples she needed.

"All done, Mr. Larabee," Susan said as she closed off the A line once more. "I'll see you later, Becca,."

"Okay, Susan," Becca said as she looked at the pale form on the bed. She smiled as she saw the green eyes looking at her. "Would you like to see your friends now?" The head dipped once and she moved to the door. She pulled back the drapes and barred open the door. "Would you gentlemen like to come in now?"

Buck took the handles of the wheelchair and shook his head as the tracker was up and out of it before he could move it. He followed the other man into the room and they took up places on opposite sides of the bed. "Hey, Chris, good to see you awake."

"You look a little better than ya did last night, Cowboy," Tanner said and smiled at the look of disbelief on his friend's face. "Would I lie about that? Now, ol' Buck here still looks like shit." he said and saw a sparkle of laughter in the greens eyes as he spoke. "Hell, Chris, he looks like he ain't slept in months and we both know what that can do to his ah, constitution. Hell he's probably suffering from constipation on top of everything else."

"Where the hell did ya get those words, Tanner?" Wilmington asked, trying but failing to look stern. He saw the twinkle of mischief in the blue eyes and was glad to see it mirrored in the green ones. He knew what the younger man was doing and was glad he seemed to be able to lighten Larabee's mood. "You listenin' to this crap, Chris? You think this kid would've learned there ain't no way for me to look bad! Ain't that right," he squinted across the bed until he could read the nurse's nametag. "Becca?"

"Ya don't have to answer this ol' windbag, Becca. Me and Chris know what he's like and he just hasn't faced up to his, ah, hmm, shortcomings yet."

"Chris, can I borrow your gun?" Wilmington asked as he realized what the sharpshooter was alluding to.

Larabee shook his head and wished he could join in the friendly banter. Instead he sent his feelings through his eyes and winced as he tried to move on the bed. The medication he'd been given was making it hard for him to concentrate and he felt his eyelids growing heavy once more. He fought to keep them open, feeling safe in the company of his two closest friends, yet he knew he couldn't hold sleep at bay much longer. He hated the thought of what could be waiting for him once his eyes closed, but again there was no way to fight it off.

Buck and Vin grew silent as they watched Larabee surrender to sleep. Buck smiled at the sharpshooter and moved around the side of the bed. "Ya did good, Vin, but I owe ya for those wisecracking jokes of yours."

"Who said they were jokes?" Tanner grinned as the ladies' man tried to glare at him. "Face it, Buck, unless you're Larabee ya just ain't got the glare down pat."

Buck watched as Tanner rubbed his injured shoulder. "Come on, ol' man, let's get you back to your room."

"I ain't old, Bucklin," Tanner said with a grin.

"You might as well let him take you back to your room, Mr. Tanner. Chris should sleep for a couple of hours and you need your rest."

"Ya also need some decent clothes, Vin. With those knees showing you're liable to scare off the ladies I got my sights set on," Wilmington laughed as the tracker blushed. " 'Sides ya don't want to get a draft do you? I mean a scrawny thing like you might just blow away if there's a strong wind."

"Shut up, Buck, or I'll get Chris' gun," Tanner hissed as he was led out of the room.

Becca watched the two friends leave before she turned back to her patient. She knew how hard the suctioning was on him and she reached for the basin of water. She picked up the cloth she'd placed there and gently wiped the perspiration from his fevered brow. She watched as he entered REM sleep and hoped this time it would be peaceful for him.

For Chris the pain and suffering of the past week were being relived, only this time there was no rescue, no friends to help him through it all, no soft voice calling to him, no one to help him past the pain. His dreams were filled with pain and emotional scars as Robert Maguire continued to do in his dreams what he'd been unsuccessful in doing in life. Chris Larabee was slowly losing control of who he was as Maguire forced him to his knees, something no man had ever been able to do. 'NO!' He screamed as he struggled to his feet, but something held him in place and he felt as if all was lost to him.

Becca wiped away the tears that slipped from the closed lids and wondered what was in her patient's dreams to cause such a deep emotional display. She continued to look after him and prayed the dreams would lighten for him. Somehow, she didn't think that would happen as Larabee's arms twitched at his sides. Almost as if he was trying to protect himself from something only he could see.

+ + + + + + +

The day passed in a haze of pain filled awakenings and nightmare filled sleep for Chris. The one thing he could always count on was opening his eyes and seeing one of his friends beside the bed. Orrin Travis came by to speak with him and to deliver a card from Mary and Billy.

Chris smiled when the older man showed him a drawing done by Billy Travis. It showed a horse and Chris standing beside it. Chris frowned as a shadow over laid the picture, a secondary figure fluctuated just behind the solid drawing. He blinked his eyes and the shadow was gone. The next time he woke up it was to find Vin Tanner and Josiah Sanchez keeping him company. The two men talked to him, telling him what was happening in the outside world and making sure he knew someone would always be with him. JD and Ezra were there the next time, but the two men seemed quiet to Chris, almost as if they were worried they'd say the wrong thing. Chris smiled as he thought of the gambler and how he'd react when he told him where the ace of spades was.

Buck and Nathan stayed long after he'd fallen asleep. Visiting hours were over, but the two men remained where they were. Chris seemed disturbed about something and it manifested itself in his dreams. Buck could tell his long time friend was dreaming and also realized there was nothing they could do to help him except wake him up. They did this only when he seemed to be getting violent. Barrett had left orders for the night nurse to begin the trial run with the ventilator. Things looked hopeful that Larabee would be rid of the offending tube by the next morning. The night stretched out before them as they settled in with the injured man.

The worst times for both men came when the nurse asked them to leave. They knew she was going to suction the tube running down Larabee's throat. If he was awake they'd see the fear in the green eyes and do what they could to reassure him that he'd be fine. When they returned he was usually ready for something to help manage the pain and would drop off to sleep as soon as the nurse gave it to him.

+ + + + + + +

Anne came in to start her shift at seven the next morning. She'd changed with a nurse who needed the time off and since she had no plans it was easy for her to take this change in the rotation. She hurried to the nursing station and walked into the morning meeting held in a room behind the big desk. She knew she'd be looking after Chris Larabee again and was surprised when butterflies erupted in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again. 'Not very professional today,' she thought as she listened to the updates on the patients in ICU. The meeting ended and she picked up her notes and walked towards the room where her patient was housed. She entered the room and smiled at the young man seated next to the bed. She recognized him in spite of the street clothes he wore.

"Good morning, Vin, how are you doing?"

"Morning, Anne, I'm better," Tanner answered. He hadn't slept very well and his body ached from tossing and turning. He'd drifted off sometime after three and was surprised to find the blue jeans and button up shirt sitting on the chair beside his bed. His slippers were beside the chair and he'd carefully dressed himself before coming to visit Chris. Nathan and Buck were there and the two men looked exhausted. Vin knew they would want to be around to see if the doctor was going to remove the tube from Larabee's throat. He suggested the two friends get some breakfast while he stayed with Larabee since his own breakfast wouldn't be delivered to his room until nine

"You certainly look better," Anne observed as she moved to the bed to check on her patient. She smiled as she saw the green eyes gazing up at her. "Good Morning, Chris. Dr. Barrett will be here shortly and we'll see about taking you off the ventilator. Would you like that?" She laughed as the head took a quick dip and the gaze returned to her.

Chris turned his head as she started checking the tubes running into his body. He was surprised to see Vin Tanner sitting beside the bed. When he'd finally slipped into a virtually dreamless sleep, Nathan and Buck were there. Now he eyed the younger man, worried about the pale features and the dark circles surrounding the usually exuberant eyes. His brows drew together as he tried to send his thoughts through his gaze.

"Hey, Cowboy, you okay?" the sharpshooter asked softly. He watched the frown form on Larabee's face and wished he could hear his voice. He knew what his best friend was trying to tell him and he forced a smile to his own tired face. "I'm fine, Chris."

'Sure you are,' Larabee thought. 'You look like I feel.'

"Chris?" The blond head turned slightly towards the nurse. "Dr. Barrett is coming this way." She saw the hope in the green eyes and smiled at him as Vin moved out of the way.

"Good morning, Chris," Barrett greeted his patient. "I've just been going over your latest test results and blood gases. Everything looks good and I think we can get rid of the ventilator." Barrett saw the relief on the patient's face and turned to the young man standing behind him. "Vin, would you wait outside..."

"Can I stay with him?" Tanner asked.

Barrett looked from one man to the other and smiled at the friendship the two shared. He nodded and looked down at his patient. "I think Vin can stick around if that's okay with you."

Larabee nodded, only too glad to have his friend with him. He smiled as the doctor moved back and the nurse returned.

"Chris, I'm going to take off the tape," Anne explained as she gently eased the tape from around his mouth. She saw him wince as it caught on the short hairs. Finally she had it all off and she knew Barrett would want to complete the last part himself. She respected this doctor, knowing he was a hands on physician, who sometimes got too involved with his patients. 'You're one to talk,'she thought as she reached for the basin to get fresh water.

"All right, Chris, you know the routine, right?" Again the blond head dipped once. "Breathe out now!"

Chris breathed out as the doctor pulled the tube from his throat. He cried out as pain erupted in his chest and hip and bile spilled from his throat. He tried to move on the bed, but the restraints were still in place. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rid his body of the pain lancing through it.

"Hang on, Chris," Tanner soothed as he placed a hand on the trembling shoulders. "What's wrong with him, Doc?"

"Just a minute, Vin! Anne, give him a shot of morphine and Zofran!" Barrett had seen the way Larabee moved and knew he'd jolted his hip. He watched as the nurse did as he ordered and eased Larabee's heaving shoulder's back down. "Chris, try to relax."

"Try...ing," Larabee's voice was a raspy whisper as he once more forced the words from his ravaged throat. "Shit!" he swore and realized Anne was standing beside the bed. "Sorry," he apologized.

"I've heard far worse than that, Chris," Anne said as she dipped a clean cloth into the basin.

"Feeling better?" Tanner asked his friend.

"Think so. Only hu...rts when I breathe," Larabee quipped and coughed violently. He felt the bed being raised, but his eyes were clenched tight against the agony in his chest. The burning spasms of pain in his lungs intensified as he was forced to give voice to the harsh cough. He didn't hear the doctor order a bronchodilator immediately. He lost track of time as his head was lifted and an oxygen mask slipped over his head. He felt the cool mist entering his lungs and it wasn't long before his breathing eased a little. He opened his eyes and waited for his vision to focus before looking gratefully at the doctor. "Th...anks," the word was muffled by the mask, but the intent was unmistakable.

"You just lie there and breathe in that medication," Barrett ordered and watched as Larabee fought the urge to cough. "Chris it's important to get rid of the mucus in your lungs and coughing is the best way to do that. You have to do it...."

"Hu...rts," Larabee wheezed as he felt the tightness in his chest ease slightly.

"I know it does, but you'll have to do it if you want to get well," the doctor told him.

"Try....tired." Again the words were garbled by the mask covering his mouth and nose.

The green eyes closed, but the people in the room knew the injured man wasn't sleeping. They watched as his face contorted with pain and a series of weak coughs came from his throat.

'How much more has he got to go through?' Tanner thought as he watched the suffering on Larabee's pale face.

"Ah, hell," the blond hissed as the attack eased once more.

"Hell's right," Vin said as the nurse lifted a cloth from the basin.

"Chris?" Again Larabee turned glazed eyes on the doctor. "I'm going to have Anne remove the restraints for a while."

"For...ever," Larabee wheezed.

"That depends on whether there are any more flashbacks," Barrett explained as he picked up the patient's chart and made a few notations regarding the broncohodilators and other medications. He quickly checked the tube running into the right side of Larabee's chest. Barrett continued his examination, including the knife wound to his patient's right shoulder and the immobilized left hip. Next he took the stethoscope and listened to his breathing. Once he was satisfied he draped the instrument over his neck and looked at the nurse. "Anne, I'll be back in a couple of hours. Have me paged if there are any problems. You can give him some ice chips for now and we'll see about getting him on a clear fluid diet this afternoon."

"Yes, Doctor," Anne agreed. She promptly took the spoon from the cup of ice she'd brought in earlier and lifted the mask.

Chris accepted the offering and smiled as the ice melted and eased some of the dryness in his mouth and throat.

"Chris, don't hesitate to ask for anything," Barrett ordered before leaving the room.

"I won't, Doc. Thanks." He turned to the tracker and smiled thinly. "Ya look like I feel, Tanner!"

"Hell, if that's meant ta be a compliment I'm in deep shit!" the sharpshooter laughed.

"No compliment, Vin, I f...feel lou...sy," Larabee admitted as the nurse removed the restraints from his wrists and ankles. He felt her soft hands slowly rub the feeling back into them and he smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Anne."

"You're welcome, Chris, now do as Dr. Barrett ordered and breathe in that medication!" She turned a stern gaze on her patient and realized she was in trouble when the green eyes seemed to dance mischievously in spite of his discomfort. She picked the cloth up once more and slowly washed his face and neck. She smiled as he sighed contentedly as she slid the warm material over his skin. She could still feel the warmth of fever, but it didn't seem as bad as it was.

Vin watched the pretty nurse care for his friend and was glad Larabee was in good hands. He couldn't help but smile as the blond charmed the nurse without even realizing he'd done so. 'Hell, I thought Buck was the ladies' man. Shit, Chris if he could see you now he'd be askin' ya for tips and ya don't even know what yer doin. Buck would say ya got the gift,' he thought. He sat in the chair and thought about what they'd both been through since arriving in Four Corners. His mind wandered to the seven men who'd made a brief, but extraordinary appearance in their lives and he wondered if those men knew how grateful he and the others were.

"Vin?"

"Huh, what?" Tanner asked as he stumbled over his thoughts.

"Chris is sleeping and I think you need to go back to your room and do the same thing," Anne ordered. She'd been watching the longhaired man and saw the weariness on his face. "Buck and Nathan are coming this way and I want one of them to take you upstairs."

"I'm okay."

"No, you were here for Chris when he really needed you and now it's time you saw to your own needs. Nathan, Buck, would one of you please escort Vin back to his room."

"I got him," Wilmington said as he took the sharpshooter by the left arm and eased him out of the chair. He didn't miss the fact that Larabee was missing the endotracheal tube, but the best thing for him was the lack of restraints. Chris Larabee was well and truly free and Buck prayed he would stay that way.

+ + + + + + +

Anne continued to care for her patient, ignoring what she knew was a growing attraction on her part. She saw past the bruises and lacerations to the handsome man she sensed was underneath. She briefly wondered what he was like when uninjured, what kind of man he was, what he enjoyed doing. She'd look at his friends and realize he had to be special to earn the respect of the men who held vigil over him. She'd sent them out to lunch while she took care of her charge. She readied a basin of warm soapy water and was intent on giving him a bed bath. She knew he'd been awake for some time, by the change in his breathing and knew he would soon need a second dose of the bronchodilator. For now she just wanted to make him comfortable.

Anne went to the door and closed it before doing the same with the drapes covering the window. She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled as the green eyes open and turned towards her. "How are you feeling, Chris?"

"I'm okay," he answered automatically, and smiled as soft laughter bubbled from the nurse's throat. It sounded good and he opened his eyes to look at her. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him and he felt a soft warmth as she placed a hand on his forehead.

"I'm just going to clean you up a little and see about making you more comfortable," she told him. She turned to the table, reached into the basin, wrung out the cloth and washed his face. When she finished she placed the oxygen mask back over his mouth and nose.

Chris knew from experience there was no point in feeling embarrassed as the nurse took care of his needs. His mother had once told him that when you came to the hospital you left your dignity at the door and picked it up on your way out. He finally understood just what that meant as he realized he wore nothing beneath the sheets. 'Except bandages,' he thought as the cloth was removed from his neck and once more dipped in the water. He listened as the water trickled from the cloth into the basin and his mind wandered back to a special time when he and Sarah had given Adam his first bath......

Part 19

Chris smiled as Sarah came towards him carrying the wonderful gift of their love for each other. His wife still looked pale, but she glowed with a warmth only a new mother had. His love for her went beyond words and was now sealed with the birth of their first child, Adam Jonathon Larabee was perfect in every way. He remembered the doctor placing the newly born child on his mother's chest and they knew nothing else. The world for the next half hour centered around the hospital bed where he and Sarah counted tiny fingers and kissed wriggling toes. They laughed as Adam wailed his displeasure of the unknown world he now found himself in. Sarah and Adam spent the next three days in the hospital and this was their first day at home alone. Chris knew Buck would be over later in the day and he also knew he and Sarah looked forward to their son's Godfather's visit. He also realized he'd probably need to build a new room for the things the big hearted man would bring with him. He laughed as he realized they could barely move around in the nursery because of the gifts from the ladies' man. One corner was taken up with a new black Jeep with flame colored racing stripes down the side, that Adam would be able to drive in when he was two or three.

Sarah's eyes twinkled with pleasure as she handed the little bundle to his father. "You hold him while I get his bath ready," she ordered.

Chris took the child, still unable to comprehend the life they'd been handed, a life that would depend on them to keep him safe. He lifted tear filled eyes to his wife and pulled her close. "God, I love you, Sarah," he said as he held her in a warm embrace. He placed his head on top of hers and felt his heart leap in his throat.

Sarah turned her head so she could look at the man holding her. "I love you too, Chris," They both laughed as a sound came from the bundle in Chris' arm. "I think someone wants our attention."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Chris released his wife and walked to the rocking chair. He removed the three foot Winnie the Pooh teddy bear and placed it on the floor. The bear was another gift from Buck Wilmington. Chris ran his hands through the thick brown curls covering his son's head. 'So much like your mothers,' he thought as he reached for the tiny fingers of the baby's right hand. He kissed his son's head and looked towards the boy's mother. 'I love you both so much,' he thought as she turned towards him. Her smile lit up the room and sent shivers through his lean form as he realized these two people, one so tiny and in need, the other so caring and unselfish, meant everything to him. They really were his life, and there was nothing more he could ask for. 'God, Sarah, you really are beautiful,' he thought.

"Chris, didn't you hear me?"

"Huh? What?"

"I said bring Adam over."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. He stood up and walked towards the bathing area.

*********+ + + + + + +

Anne continued to bathe her patient and smiled as she saw the look of contentment on his face. She knew it wasn't caused by what she was doing and wondered where his mind was. Wherever it had taken him he was happy and she put the cloth away and tucked the sheet back over him. She watched the face for a few seconds, again feeling a slight flutter in her heart as she thought of what this man would be like outside this room. She looked towards the door as Buck Wilmington and Ezra Standish stepped inside. She signaled for them to be quiet and the two men nodded in understanding.

+ + + + + + + **********

"Now, do you remember how to check the temperature of the water," Sarah asked as she took the baby from his father. She wanted Chris to know everything about caring for their infant son and she could see he was as excited about being a parent as she was.

Chris bent his arm and stuck his elbow into the water and smiled. "It's perfect," he told her as he took Adam back.

Sarah stood back and watched as her husband eased the baby into the tub, making sure the umbilical cord remained above the water line. She watched as his strong hands held the baby with more tenderness than most men showed in a lifetime. She moved to the rocking chair and sat down to watch.

Chris picked up the cloth and gently washed the soft skin. He smiled as he realized he was holding a part of himself and Sarah. A perfect symbol of the love they shared since their fist meeting. He once more reminded himself how much he owed Buck Wilmington for introducing him to the beautiful woman who was now his wife and the mother of his son. 'Life don't get any better than this,' he thought as he ran the cloth over the tiny feet.

Sarah watched her husband as he continued to care for their son. She smiled contentedly as she realized he was singing. His voice was off key, but the words were filled with warmth as he looked at their baby.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray..."

Sarah couldn't help but join her husband in the children's song and soon both parents were crooning to their newborn. Sarah wore a happy contented smile as she looked at the goofy grin on her husband's face. His clothes were soaked as he continued to care for the infant. She reached for the cloth in his hand and laughed as he picked up their son and cradled him between their bodies. They held each other close, both sets of eyes staring at the child before them. This was their life, and they'd be content to stay that way forever.

*********+ + + + + + +

Chris sighed as he felt consciousness returning and the wonderful memory retreating. He fought to remain with them, knowing the world he was waking up to would not have the keys to his heart. They'd been stripped from this world at the hands of a woman who still haunted his nightmares. He knew he was losing the battle to stay under as light filtered through his fluttering eyelids and he became aware of the pain surrounding his body once more. His eyes opened and focused on the man speaking to him. He couldn't help but smile at his long time friend, in spite of the pain his own memories would cause him. Buck had been with him when they'd discovered the flames ripping through his home. He'd been the one to pull Chris away from that fire in spite of Larabee's hysterical strength. Chris remembered the screams from his family as the fire consumed them along with the rest of his life. Buck would always be a reminder of that, but he was also a reminder of the important times. His first glimpse of Sarah, the growing love, the friendship, and the birth of hope when they held Adam. Everything good in his life could also be linked to this man, and Chris was forever grateful.

"Hey, Stud, how're you feeling?"

Even the voice could sooth his rattled mind and Chris forced a smile on his face in spite of the nausea and pain. "I'm doing better, Buck," he answered.

"That's wonderful news, Mr. Larabee," Standish said as he joined Wilmington.

"Thanks, Ez," the blond said and winced as he tried to shift on the bed.

"Chris, Would you like something for pain?" Anne asked as she heard the muffled gasp through the oxygen mask.

"Not right now," he answered.

"All right, but don't let it go too long. Dr. Barrett said if the morphine is not working I can increase the dosage until you're comfortable," she told him. She knew she'd have to increase it anyway once Barrett saw how much pain he continued to suffer from.

"I will," Larabee said. Buck and Ezra bit back their laughter as the blond turned a heated, but weak glare on them.

"Sure you will, Stud," Buck said.

"Mr. Larabee is not known for asking for help," Standish explained to the nurse.

"Ezra, shut up or I won't tell you where the damn card is," Larabee hissed. His words were cut off as he started coughing and wrapped his arms around his chest.

Anne finished setting up the bronchodilator and quickly replaced the mask over Larabee's mouth and nose. She listened as the coughing continued and breathed a sigh of relief when it finally eased. She saw the gratitude in his eyes and patted his shoulder. "Just try and take deep breaths, Chris."

"O...kay," he said as he closed his eyes. The medication eased his breathing, but the attack had brought on the pain.

"Chris?" Larabee turned pain glazed eyes on the ladies' man. "You need to let her give you something for the pain, Buddy. I've known you a long time and you can't tell me you're okay."

Larabee knew his friend was right and nodded slightly, hating that he was admitting to the need for help. To him that was as much as admitting Maguire was still there, still causing him pain.

"All right, Chris, I've just increased the dosage. It shouldn't take long for it to work."

"Thanks, Anne," he said and tried to relax into the pillows. He knew the best way to get his mind off the pain was to talk and he knew Ezra Standish couldn't wait to find out where the ace of spades was. "So, Ezra, would you like me to tell you where the card is?"

"Well if he doesn't, I sure as hell do, Chris. Where is it?"

Anne watched as her patient breathed in the medication and smiled as he seemed to relax with his friends. She hung a new bag of IV solution and started a new bag of the antibiotic cocktail as Larabee started explaining about the unknown card. She would wait until the others left before checking the foley catheter. Barrett was worried about the possibility of a UTI developing.

"Mr. Larabee, I would dearly love to hear your explanation of the whereabouts of said card," Standish blustered.

Larabee breathed in the medication and looked at the two men. He didn't really understand how he knew what he knew, but he was sure the card was nearby, not by distance, but by time. Unlike the gun, the card had stayed with them, only it had somehow returned to where it was meant to be. He looked over the oxygen mask at the curious faces of his friends. "Ezra, call Maude when you get a chance."

"Call Mother? Now what would possess you to want me to do that, Mr. Larabee?"

"Te...ll her to..." he trailed off as another coughing spurt started.

"Okay, Chris, just stop talking for a few minutes and concentrate on breathing in the medicine," Anne warned.

"Need to te...ll," again he coughed and grunted in pain as he felt the mucus come up in his throat. He whipped off the mask and spit it into the basin beside his head. He lay back and felt the mask replaced once more. He knew he was drifting towards sleep but he wanted the gambler to talk to Maude Standish. "Ezra..ca..."

"Chris!" Anne said.

"Call Maude. Tell her...tell her to check the deck of cards....Ace of Spades is there." Chris sighed as he slipped into a deep sleep and missed the shocked look on the faces of the two men in the room.

"How could that be? How would Mr. Larabee know something like that?"

"Ezra, with everything we've seen and everything that's happened the past few weeks, do you really question what he just told us?"

"No...but...I. How can...how did he..."

"Ez, I don't think I've ever known you to stumble over your words. Why don't you go call your Mother and see if the card is there?"

"I think I will do just that, Mr. Wilmington." The gambler looked at the sleeping man, amazed at the news he'd just imparted. Somehow he knew the card would be exactly where Chris Larabee said it would be. "Sleep well, Mr. Larabee. Perhaps I will have news for you when you next wake up." He left the room in a hurry to find out about the missing card.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra hurried outside and took his cell phone from his pocket. He knew his mother was at the villa in Monte Carlo, but he also knew she'd have the deck of cards with her. She called them her lucky deck in spite of the fact she'd never played a hand with them. He pressed the button for the keyed in number and waited for someone to answer the call. He briefly wondered what his mother would think of the question he was about to ask. He sank down on the small bench and listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. The call was answered on the second ring and he asked to speak with Maude Standish. For a hopeless second he though she wasn't there, but he smiled as her voice came over the phone.

"Ezra, Sugah, where are you?" Maude's southern dialect came shining through, making her son wonder if a lot of it was an act for whoever she was with at the time..

"Greetings, Mother, I am in a little town called Washoe."

"Washoe?" he could hear the distaste in her words. "Whatever are you doing there?"

"You remember Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner?"

"Of course, Dear, how are they?"

"They were both injured rather severely I'm afraid..."

"Oh dear, I really wish you wouldn't be involved in such dangerous work. You have to protect those gifted hands of your, Sugah!"

"Mother, I am unharmed and I do enjoy my chosen field."

"You call your work a chosen field?"

He heard her soft laughter and felt a little of the old anger resurfacing. He pushed it back and turned the conversation to the reason for his call. "Mother do you have your lucky deck of cards with you?"

"Of course, Dahling, you know I never leave home without them. Why?"

"Would you inspect them for me?"

"Whatever for?"

"Do you remember the card that's missing from the deck?"

"There is nothing wrong with my memory, Sugah. The Ace of Spades has been missing from that deck since your father gifted it to me."

"Would you check them and make sure it's still missing?"

"Pardon me, Ezra, but have you been imbibing in alcoholic beverages without your Mother? Those cards are always on my person and that card has always been missing, Dear."

"No, Mother, I have not been imbibing," he explained in frustration. A thought occurred to him and he smiled as he realized he should've thought of it earlier. "It's a wager...

"A wager?"

Ezra could picture the smile on her face as her eyebrows rose. The one thing his mother believed in was the power of a wager and he knew he had her attention. "Yes, Mother. I have a wager with Mr. Wilmington as to whether that card really is missing."

"Well I can assure you it is."

"Please, Mother, just check for me."

"Of course, Sugah. Just hold on while I retrieve them."

Ezra listened to her search through her clothing until she found them.

"How much is riding on this wager, Ezra?"

"Let's just say it involves your reputation as a magnificent gambler," Ezra told her and knew he'd used the right words to make her sit up and take notice.

"Are you betting for me or against me?"

"For you, Mother, to do otherwise would mean certain loss."

"That's my boy," she said. "I have the cards."

"Is the Ace of Spades there?" There was no sound from the other end of the line and he wondered if they'd been disconnected. "Mother?...Mother, are you still there?" He stood up and began to pace in front of the bench.

"How?"

"Pardon?"

"How did you know? How could this be? Where did this come from?"

"It's there?" He asked as sat back down.

"This has to be some kind of joke. It can't be real. I mean it's been missing all these years. How could it just be here now? Is this some kind of practical joke?"

"Mother, I can't really explain how I knew, but it is the real thing. If you check the card you'll see it's from the same deck you've always had and even has that little nick in the bottom left hand corner."

"Yes, I noticed that right away. Ezra, Sugah, this is amazing. I want to know how you did this?"

"It wasn't me, Mother, but I would wager that deck will bring Lady Luck around you even more than she ever was before."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, Mother, I do. Call it destiny."

"Destiny?"

"That's right and now I must get back to mine. Good day, Mother."

"Goodbye, Dahling, I think a trip to the gaming tables is well advised right now," Maude said as she made a small pecking sound before hanging up.

'How did you know, Chris?'He thought as he placed the phone back in his pocket.

Part 20

Buck looked towards the door as Vin Tanner stepped through it. He stood up and motioned for the tracker to take his place. Vin smiled and gratefully accepted the seat.

"How's he doing, Buck?" he asked softly.

Wilmington went to answer but a scratchy voice from the bed stopped him.

"I'm okay, Vin, how are you doing?" Larabee asked and turned his head to look at the two men.

"Better, Dr. Milano is gonna let me out of here tomorrow."

"I thought she said she might let you out?" the ladies man asked.

"She just came to see me and everything is looking good."

"Headaches gone?

"Headaches?" Larabee stared at his friend. Some things he remembered clearly, others seemed to have slipped his mind.

"From the concussion..."

"Concussion? What happened?"

They'd been told to expect some confusion on Chris' part and they could both read it in the open eyes.

"Here, Chris, drink this," Anne said as she held a glass in front of him. He smiled gratefully at the nurse as he sucked greedily on the water.

"Thanks, Anne," he said as she eased it from his chapped lips. He turned back to his friends and repeated. "What happened?"

"Vin took a blow to the head..."

"Are you okay?" Larabee asked worriedly

"Yeah, ya know me, Chris. My head's the one part they can't do much damage to," he said and smiled at his friend.

"Think the whole damn bunch of us has hard heads," Wilmington observed.

"Good thing," Larabee said and tried to move up in the bed. He winced as he felt a small pain in his abdomen, but ignored it as being another part of what Maguire did to him. "Where'd Ez go?"

"He went to call his mother," Wilmington answered.

"His Mother? I thought she was in Monte Carlo with some Earl or another?" Tanner asked.

"She is," the scoundrel laughed. "Earl Trunkette, but he ain't no real Earl," Wilmington said.

Tanner looked at the blond and saw the smile on his face. The oxygen mask had been replaced by the nasal canulas while he visited with his friends, but they knew the mask would go back on shortly as Larabee's breathing sounded more labored. "What are you smiling about, Chris?"

"The card is there," Larabee informed them.

"Card?" Tanner frowned, unable to grasp what his friend was talking about.

"Chris seems to think the Ace of Spades is back in Maude's old deck of cards. That's why Ez went to call her."

"How do you know it's there?" the sharpshooter asked.

"Let's just say it's where the card belongs," Larabee told him

"Well it looks like we're about to find out," Wilmington said as Ezra Standish stepped into the room.

"Gentlemen, I have news to impart."

"Spit it out, Ezra," Wilmington said.

"I have you know I do not spit things out, Mr. Wilmington...."

"Just tell us if the damn card was there!" the ladies man snapped.

"Mr. Larabee was correct in his assumptions of where the card is."

"Your mother has it?" the tracker asked.

"She certainly does. How did you know, Mr. Larabee?"

"I just knew, Ezra. I can't explain why," Chris swallowed with some difficulty as talking seemed to take up whatever air he managed to breathe in. He felt another coughing spurt coming on and tried to fight it, but as the first in a series of harsh, painful coughs escaped his throat, he knew it had only just begun. He wrapped his arms around his chest and cried out as his body reacted to the latest abuse. Again and again the horrid sounds tore from his throat. He knew the others were watching him, but his body was once more a mass of agony, with little hope of it letting up. He felt soft hands on his shoulder and a warm cloth washed over his face as he suffered through this latest torture. Again and again he coughed and didn't register the canulas being removed and the oxygen mask placed back over his lower face. He felt the familiar lethargy coming over him and realized the morphine infusion pump must have delivered the dose of pain medication. Slowly his breathing eased and the coughing subsided. He breathed deeply from the mask, but winced as abused ribs protested it.

Anne reached for the cloth and once more washed it over the pale face. She smiled as he turned his gaze towards her.

"Th...anks," Chris wheezed gratefully.

"You're welcome. Feeling better?"

"Not really," he answered honestly. He accepted the water she held before him and sighed as the cold eased the burning in his throat.

"Gentlemen, one of you has to leave. I'm sorry, but it is hospital policy," Anne reminded the three men beside the bed.

"Mr. Wilmington, why don't you and I seek out something substantial for our afternoon repast?"

Buck knew the conman was trying to give Vin some time alone with Larabee and he nodded imperceptibly. "I am gettin' kind of hungry, but I ain't eating at one of them fancy places that serve es-car-gots," he said and saw the smile in Larabee's tired eyes. "I'll be back later, Chris. Vin, Nathan and Orrin should be here shortly and you let one of them take you back to your room."

"Yes, Dad," Tanner replied smoothly.

"Hey, Ez, if I'm Dad that must make you Mom?"

"Oh the joys of being a parent," Standish said as he saw the smiles on the two injured men.

"Bye, Mom, Dad," Larabee said as the two men left the room. His voice was still muffled by the mask covering his face, but his eyes were glazed as the morphine eased the pain in his body. He turned to see the smile on Vin's face and was relieved to be alone with the one man who could read him so easily.

"Must've hurt like hell!" the sharpshooter stated of the latest attack.

"That and more," Larabee answered as he shifted on the bed. He knew he had be honest about how he felt with Vin Tanner. Somehow this man would know if he was telling the truth no matter what he said.

"I could see that. I wish I could do more for you, Chris."

"Just knowing you and the others are here is all I need right now, Vin." The blond yawned tiredly as the morphine continued to ease the pain in his body.

"Why don't you go on and get some sleep, Chris?"

"I don't seem to have a c...choice."

"Don't fight it, Chris, you need to let yourself sleep and heal," Anne told him.

Chris let his eyes close and frowned at the building ache in his lower back. He knew he should mention it to Anne, but exhaustion took over and he slipped into an uneasy sleep.

Anne checked the readouts and frowned at the increase in temperature again. She knew they'd have to keep an eye on it if it went any higher and she wondered if they'd missed something during the tests.

"Anne, what's wrong?" Vin asked as he watched the nurse making notations in the chart.

"I'm not sure, Vin," she answered. "His temperature is up a little. It could just be from the medications."

"Or it could be something more serious?"

"As I said, I'm not sure. Dr. Barrett will be here shortly and he'll probably order some tests."

"Dammit!" Tanner swore as he looked at the sleeping man. 'I'll be here, Cowboy. No matter what it takes we'll get you through this.' He closed his eyes and pictured the seven saviors who helped save both their lives. 'Ya got family all around ya, Larabee, so don't go lettin' 'im down!' He reached over the rail and gently placed his hand over his friend's heart.

As if from a distance Chris heard his friend's silent promise and knew Tanner would be there no matter what. He briefly wondered if his great, great grandfather had the same type of trusting relationship with Vin's ancestor. He smiled inwardly as he realized the seven men from the past shared the same friendship as the seven men from the present. He sank into a deeper sleep and frowned as he felt himself lose touch with reality. The frown quickly left as he looked into what could only be the town of Four Corners as it stood in his ancestor's day. He smiled as he saw a wagon drawing close to the town and several familiar figures were there. He knew they didn't see him, but he could see what was happening. He watched as his great, great grandfather was helped from the wagon and knew instinctively this was something that occurred after his encounter with Robert Maguire. He stood on the landing above the street and listened to the conversation between the ghosts from his past.

********"Damn, Nathan, you know me..."

qqq"I know you. I know Vin, I know..."xxx

qqq"What the hell did I do?" Tanner asked as he stepped up to the wagon.xxx

qqq"You say you'll do everything I tell you and the minute you're feeling a little better you forget those words," Jackson snapped.xxx

qqq"Well, Brother, you might as well grin and bare it. We're all the same. None of us like to be laid up. We like to move around, tend our own needs and make our own mistakes," Sanchez laughed as he swatted the healer on the back.xxx

qqq"Alright, Chris, you can go to your own room..."

xxx

qqq"Thanks, Nathan," Larabee's cocky grin was back.xxx

qqq"Let me finish," Jackson ordered. "You can go to your room after I check you over. I want to make sure everything's okay and nothing's opened up."xxx

qqq"I guess that's okay," Larabee smiled as he slid to the edge of the wagon. He was still sore, but he was healing and he was bull-headed to do things on his own.xxx

qqq"Well, Gentlemen, even though this promises to be another glorious morning I need to partake of the soft mattress on my bed. Mr. Larabee, it's good to have you back," Standish turned and walked away.xxx

qqq"Well, Stud, me and JD best see what's been happening at the jail" Wilmington said as he touched Larabee's shoulder.xxx

qqq"I'll see you later, Chris," JD called as Buck pulled him towards the jail.xxx

qqq"I'm going to check on the church," Sanchez told them as he walked away. xxx

"I'll help ya up ta Nathan's, Chris," Tanner said as he helped the gunslinger stand on shaky legs.**********

Chris smiled as the gunslinger looked towards him and he knew the other man could sense him there. qqq'This is my destiny, Son, and you have yours. You've still got a painful fight ahead of you, but let your friends help you and you'll do just fine. Remember what Vin Tanner told you. You're a Larabee.........xxx

"I'm a Larabee."

Vin watched as the handsome face twisted in pain, but the green eyes remained closed. He placed his hand on Larabee's arm and spoke softly to him. "Hey, Cowboy, it ain't that bad is it?" he didn't expect an answer as he watched Anne checking the output from the foley catheter.

Anne knew he was watching her as she measured the cloudy fluid in the bag. Things were worsening for her patient and she moved to put in a call for Dr. Barrett. She knew the doctor was supposed to be there half an hour ago, but was probably detained with another patient. She was putting in the call to make sure he knew it was urgent that he come to Larabee's room. She moved back to the bed and looked into the worried blue eyes of the tracker. She turned her attention to the CVP line running into her patient's jugular and made sure it was still secure.

"Anne, what's really going on?"

"I don't know yet, Vin," she answered honestly. "I've put in a call to Dr. Barrett as a precaution."

"Something's wrong. I can feel it!" Tanner hissed as he felt his friend's life slipping through his fingers.

"Don't talk like that, Vin," Anne warned. "You have to stay positive and make sure he doesn't sense how upset this is really making you."

"I know, Anne, but he's been put through so much already. How can he fight..."

"Vin, I've heard your friends say you have a unique bond with Chris." She almost laughed as she saw the frown on his face. "I've heard all of you talking and I won't pretend to understand some of the things I've overheard, but I do know there's something about the seven of you together. Something I should question, but don't. Believe me, there are some strange things in this world and I've seen a lot of them. Chris needs the six of you to be strong for him..."

"Anne, what's going on?"

The nurse looked towards the doctor as he entered the room. "Chris' urine output is showing a marked decrease, plus it's cloudy and his temperature has risen to 103.2."

"Dammit!" Barrett swore as he looked at the man in the bed. He'd been through so much and he knew what they'd been worried about might be taking place now. "Mr. Tanner," he said. When the younger man seemed not to have heard he repeated. "Mr. Tanner?"

"Huh, Yeah!" the sharpshooter shook himself and stared at the doctor. "What's wrong with him, Doc?"

"I won't know until we run some tests, Mr. Tanner. Right now I need you to return to your room."

"I'm stayin', Doc!"

"Mr. Tanner, I really don't have time to argue about this and neither does your friend," Barrett said and realized how harsh his words sounded. He knew time was of the essence for Chris Larabee and he wasn't in the mood to argue. "Look, just return to your room and I promise to send word as soon as we're done here!"

"I..."

"Vin, please, let me do what I do best!" the doctor said and saw the young man give in.

"You'll take care of him?" Tanner asked softly, his voice edged with pain and worry.

"Yes, Vin," the doctor said and watched as the young man placed his hand over Larabee's heart once more. qqq'Stay with me, Cowboy,'xxx he thought as he turned from the bed once more.

Anne followed him to the door and patted his arm as a second doctor hurried into the room. "Have faith, Vin," she said as she closed the door and pulled the drapes to give the doctors and patient a sense of privacy.

"Derrick, you paged me?"

"Yes, Joe," Barrett explained as the specialist from Nephrology entered the room. "This is the case I was telling you about."

"Larabee?" Joe Mullen asked as he moved to the side of the bed. He'd been going over the chart and knew some of the background on this patient. The damage done to his body would greatly affect his major organs and their normal functions. He knew Derrick Barrett had been keeping a close watch on everything and he also realized things could be changing for the worst.

"Yeah. I think it's time your department became involved."

"What's going on?"

"His urine output has dropped to fifty ml per hour," he said as he lifted the chart. He looked up at the nurse as he opened the chart.

"Derrick, have you ordered any tests yet?"

"Not yet, Joe," Barrett told him as he turned back to the nurse. "Anne, I want blood work and urinalysis done immediately."

"You might want to order an ultrasound and abdominal X-rays," Mullen suggested as a soft moan came from the man lying in the bed.

Chris felt hands touching him and knew he was waking up. The pain in his back was steadily growing worse and he frowned as he opened his eyes and looked at the friendly nurse standing beside the bed. "Anne," he hissed as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "My b...back hu...rts," he mumbled tiredly.

"Chris?"

Larabee turned to see two men standing beside him. He knew one of them was the doctor looking after him, but the other man was unknown to him. Barrett was the one who'd called his name and he waited for the man to continue.

"Where in your back does it hurt?"

"Lower back," Larabee hissed as he tried to get comfortable.

"Alright, Chris, just relax and we'll see about making you more comfortable," Barrett explained.

"O...kay," the blond agreed softly.

"Derrick, can I speak to you for a minute?"

"We'll be right back, Chris."

"N...no!"

"What's wrong, Chris?" Derrick asked.

"Have...right to ...know...what's go...ing on!" he stated simply.

"Yes, you do, Chris," Joe agreed as he stood next to the bed. "My name is Joe Mullen and my department is Nephrology..."

"Ne...phro...ogy?"

"That's correct. I specialize in..."

"Some...thing to do with kid...neys," Larabee interrupted as he remembered something Nathan Jackson told him.

"Correct again."

"Some...thing wrong with m...ine?" Larabee asked tiredly.

"That's what we're planning on finding out. We're setting up some tests..."

"Ah, hell...should've known...wouldn't end this ea...sy. What kind've tests?"

"Mostly bloodwork and urinalysis for now," Barrett answered. "Anne, I want his IV fluids increased and start him on Lasix, IV."

"Yes, Doctor," Anne agreed as she watched her patient closely.

They watched as the patient slowly drifted back to sleep and the two doctors moved away from the bed as Anne injected the Lasix into Larabee's IV.

"Derrick, I'm going to arrange a few things from my end. I'll be in contact when I've arranged for a CT scan. We may want to think about a Radioisoptope scan and an IVP as well," Mullen suggested.

"All right, Joe, I'll make the arrangement for those."

"Derrick, how are you holding up?" Mullen asked. He'd known Barrett for a lot of years and knew about the torture he'd endured in the early years of his life. He also knew how much Larabee's torture was affecting the younger man.

"I'm okay, Joe. Chris has some wonderful friends who've been helping him with this..."

"He'll need more than friends, Derrick."

"I know that, Joe, but right now that's the least of our worries."

Mullen looked his friend and colleague in the eyes and frowned at the pain he saw there. He placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "You know my number, Derrick. Use it!"

Barrett smiled and placed a hand on Mullen's. "I will, Joe and thanks." He watched his friend leave and turned back to the bed. "Anne, keep me updated as to his urine output. I'll be back as soon as we have the results of the urinalysis and bloodwork. Meanwhile change the foley catheter. Maybe that's where the problem lies," he said hopefully.

"I will, doctor," she assured the man as she adjusted the flow of the IVs. As Barrett left the room Anne took the time to look at her patient once more. The lines of pain etched in his forehead told her he was still not deeply asleep. She walked to the door and opened it and the curtain. She walked back to the bed and picked up the cloth. She softly hummed a tune her mother sang to her as a child and smiled as her voice seemed to sooth her patient.

While her patient slept Anne quickly changed the catheter, knowing this was something everyone felt embarrassed about. At least if she did it while he slept he wouldn't feel her hands on the most intimate part of his body.

Part 21

Vin turned out the light as soon as he stepped into the waiting room. His head was pounding and his stomach filled with acid as he leaned heavily against the door. He moved across the room and sank onto the uncomfortable couch. He lay awake, his arm under his head, his face showing the worry and fear he had for his friend. He knew Chris was still in danger of losing his life and that it would take a lot to get him through the pain and frustration he knew would come. The doctor's worry was evident when the man entered the room and read the notes on the chart. A chart that seemed to be growing with every passing moment. He knew the others would be back soon and he needed to talk to them, but his weary body was not as strong as he thought. He sank towards sleep and was soon in the chamber, watching the pain and suffering on the blond's face as Maguire tortured him. His body trembled in the dark waiting room and soft moans left his throat.

A shadowy figure stood in the corner and frowned as he saw the pain on Tanner's face. He knew this man was worried about Chris Larabee and he knew he needed to rest in order to be strong for him. He briefly wondered if his own great, great grandson understood the unique bond between Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner. It had taken him a long time to see how good the sharpshooter was for the gunslinger, and now the same thing was happening over a hundred years into the future. He touched the younger man's shoulder and spoke softly to him. 'He'll be fine so long as you are all there for him, Vin. Don't let him wallow in a bottle the way he did after S...Sarah and Adam and don't let him push you away. He's gonna try that. Hell, his great, great grandfather did and they're cut from the same cloth, same as you and our Vin are. Just stick by him the way you always have, Vin, and he'll seek out your strength. The others too. JD, Ezra, Josiah, Nathan, you are each other's destiny. The seven of you are special and that number must always remain a constant. That's where the true strength lies, Vin.' The moustached figure faded into the shadows as the trembling stopped and the door opened.

Josiah moved into the room and white light from the hallway illuminated the sleeping man. He frowned as something seemed to fade before his eyes, yet he knew instinctively whoever or whatever it was would not harm them. He smiled as he realized the last few weeks had opened up all of their minds. Things they'd normally laughed off were suddenly very real and very much a part of who they were and what was happening around them. He looked at the peaceful face of the tracker and eased the door closed once more. He walked across the hall and into the room where Chris Larabee lay in a jumble of man made products designed to keep him alive. He smiled at Anne as she measured the urine and wondered at the small amount in the collection container.

"Anne?"

She looked at the older man and saw the question in the blue eyes. "He's okay right now, Josiah," she said softly.

"But?"

"But Dr. Barrett is worried about his output. He's going to run some tests to see if he can figure out what's wrong."

Josiah shook his head and moved to the bed. he looked down at the sleeping man and placed his hand on his forehead. He could feel the heat emanating from the injured man as his fingers contacted the sweaty skin.

"You've had your share of trials and tribulations, Brother, but they seem to make you stronger each time. If I could take away your pain I would do so in a heartbeat," he said and smiled as green eyes fought to open. He waited until the lids were completely open before speaking. "Sorry, Chris, didn't mean to wake you."

"You d...didn't," Larabee hissed as he started to cough. Pain radiated from his chest and down into his back and hip. "G...God!" he gasped as he struggled to catch his breath.

Josiah saw Anne readying the medication Larabee needed and tried to instil a sense of calm in the blond. "Just hang on Chris. Anne's getting something to help you!"

"No...nothing helps J'siah. It hu....rts every...where," he rasped through harsh coughs, his eyes tearing as the pain seemed to overwhelm his senses. He felt Anne replace the mask over his face and soon inhaled the medicinal odor of the bronchodilator Barrett had ordered for him. He sucked in the medication and soon felt his airway opening again, but the pain was still there and he looked up at the ex-preacher.

Josiah massaged the younger man's shoulder, his concern and worry showing in his eyes as he tried to reassure his friend. "I know it hurts, Chris, but it will get better for you."

"I know J'siah, just wish I didn't feel like sh...it all the t...time."

"Chris?"

The blond turned towards the nurse and smiled weakly at her. He'd heard her humming and felt comfortable with her touching him. He frowned as he realized he was completely naked under the blanket, but knew the nurse had probably seen it all before.

"Try and breathe the medication in as deeply as you can."

"Try...ing," he told her.

Josiah frowned as he looked at the blond's profile. There was something not quite right and he tried to put his finger on what it was. He looked towards the door as Nathan Jackson entered.

Jackson heard the hiss of the medication in the nebulizer and looked at his friend. His eyes roamed over the pale skin and the hooded eyes and he knew Larabee was in pain again. "How are you doing, Chris?" he asked.

"O...kay, Nathan," Larabee answered automatically. Truth was he really felt lousy and his back continued to hurt as he shifted on the bed. His hip was still held in place, but he could move an inch or so either way.

"I'd be more inclined to believe you without that grimace on your face, you know?"

"Gu....ess so," the blond said softly. "It really is getting bet...ter, Nathan." He tried to reassure his friends and forced the pain from his face.

Nathan studied the face and saw the swelling around the neck and facial areas. He looked at the nurse and nodded towards the door. "I'll be right back, Chris," he said as Anne walked away from the bed.

"What can I do for you, Nathan?"

"Does the doctor know about the swelling..."

"I called him a little while ago. He's arranging some tests to be performed over the next few hours."

"What kind of tests? Does he suspect a problem with Chris' kidneys?"

Anne nodded as she looked back to the bed. "His urine output continues to drop and his creatanine levels are elevated. Look we don't know anything yet." She looked towards the door as a lab tech came in. "Hi, Martin."

"Hi, Anne, I need to get some blood from Mr. Larabee." He moved to the bed and smiled at the pale man. "Hello, Mr. Larabee. I just need a some of that precious red stuff of yours." He'd always tried to keep things light when he was with patients and found it usually made them easier to deal with.

"O...kay," the words was muffled by the mask but Martin understood it and reached for the A line in the blond's left wrist. He finished up and closed off the A line once more. He said goodbye to the patient and hurried from the room.

"What are they checking for?" Sanchez asked, knowing Larabee deserved to know what was going on with his own body. He knew Chris would've asked the question himself if he hadn't beaten him to it.

"They'll be checking creatanine levels, blood gases, and evaluating electrolyte gases."

"God, I h...hate all this," Larabee rasped tiredly.

"Anne, X-ray is on the way."

"Thanks, Judy," Anne said and turned to the two men. "You'll have to leave for a while."

"Chris we'll be back, all right?" Jackson asked.

Larabee nodded as the two men left the room. As soon as they were out of sight he let himself relax and let the real pain show through. He felt a hand on his shoulder and met the soft brown eyes of his caregiver. He knew he hadn't fooled any of them by hiding his pain. His friends knew him as well as he knew them. He turned his head to the morphine infusion pump as it delivered the allotted amount of the drug into his system. He sighed and waited for it to help ease the pain in his body.

+ + + + + + +

Vin woke to darkness and struggled to sit up. he lifted his left arm and slowly rubbed his tired eyes. He remembered visiting Chris and Barrett telling him to go back to his room, but there was nothing after that, except a vague sense that someone had been there with him. He stretched his aching body and realized he would pay for sleeping on the uncomfortable sofa. The door opened and he looked up as Josiah and Nathan entered the room.

"You do have a real bed you could use, Vin!" Jackson said as he saw the grimace on Tanner's face.

"I know, Nate," he said tiredly. "What time is it?"

"4:35," Sanchez answered.

"Oh, Hell, I told Chris I'd come back. That was nearly three hours ago."

"You've been asleep in here for three hours, Vin?" Nathan snapped.

"Easy, Nate, at least he slept. Come no, Vin, let's get you back to your room."

"No, I need to check no Chris."

"Not right now, Vin, Anne's getting him ready for X-rays and other tests Dr. Barrett ordered," Jackson explained.

"Hell, Nathan , what's wrong with him?" Tanner asked as they left the room.

"We won't know anything until after the tests are completed, Vin," Jackson explained in spite of the warning signs he'd seen. It was at times like these he regretted his knowledge of the medical world.

Vin knew Jackson would not tell them anymore, yet he realized the medic had suspicions of what was going on with their mutual friend. He swayed a little as they reached the elevator and soon found himself sandwiched between his two companions. He smiled at the strength he felt from each of them and knew the others would be there to help them make Chris whole. Their strength was in their number and that number was seven. He knew there was still a lot for Chris to go through, yet he knew as long as the seven were seven things would work out. They made it upstairs and into his room as his strength gave out and his head exploded. He curled into a ball on top of the bed and heard Jackson call for a nurse. He felt a basin placed before his mouth just as his stomach lost its contents.

Mindy came hurrying in and checked her patient. " Vin, do you want something for the pain?" she asked already hurrying out of the room as he mumbled 'Yeah'. She returned a few minutes later and had him turn on his left side. She quickly injected the pain medication and pulled the blanket up over his trembling form. "Just rest and let that take affect," she said as she patted his shoulder. She turned out the bright light and drew the drapes across the window before she left the three men alone.

Josiah and Nathan watched as the younger man suffered through the concussion induced headache. There was nothing they could do until the pain medication kicked in. Nathan walked into the bathroom and took a clean cloth off the shelf. He ran warm water over it and walked back to the bed. He placed the cloth over Tanner's forehead and eyes and heard a soft sigh of appreciation.

"Thanks," Tanner whispered, afraid anything more would set off more explosions. He didn't hear anyone answer and knew the two men were being quiet out of consideration for the pain he endured. He felt the morphine slowly taking control of his mind and body and sank towards sleep once more.

+ + + + + + +

The IVP and other X-rays were completed and Chris found himself alone with the new nurse coming on duty. Her name was Melanie and she was very nice, but he missed Anne's soft humming as he tried to sleep. He knew there were more tests scheduled for him and he tried to block out how uncomfortable he was. It was after six PM and he knew the others would be back shortly. Nathan had come down to tell him Vin was sleeping and that they'd be back as soon as they had something to eat. A sound at the door made him turn his head and he saw Orrin Travis standing there. He had no idea how long the older man stood in the opening, but he saw the deep concern in the serious gaze turned his way.

"Hello, Orrin."

"Hello, Chris. How are you feeling?"

"I'm..."

"Don't give me any of that crap about you being fine or okay or alright. I want the truth, Son, not the words you use to try and ease everyone's mind."

Chris swallowed deeply and looked out over the oxygen mask. "S...sorry, Orin. It comes n...naturally."

"Not with me. Now how are you feeling?"

"Sore. Tired. Angry! You name it Or...rin...That's....ho...how I fe...el!" he hissed, his breath sounding labored to Travis' ears.

"Easy, Son, just breathe slow and deep," the older man advised.

"Am," Larabee said as Melanie set up the next coarse of bronchodilators for him. He was soon breathing the medication deep into his lungs and smiled gratefully at her.

"Chris, I've got to head back to Billings tomorrow, but I wanted you to know anything you need just tell them. I mean that, anything at all. I've arranged for the jet to be at your disposal as soon as you're ready to come home. The same goes for Vin and the others. You boys are like family to me and I want to make sure you get the treatment you need."

"Thanks, Orrin."

"You can thank me by getting well and doing what the doctors and nurses tell you to do..."

"That'll be the day," Wilmington said as he entered the room.

"Shut...up, Buck," Larabee hissed.

"Damn, Chris, it's only the truth. Ask Nathan when he gets here. He's always saying you and Vin never listen to the doctors..."

"And you do, Buck?" Orrin asked before Larabee had a chance to.

Wilmington looked at the tall, slim, raven haired nurse as he heard her sultry laughter. The dark eyes were full of merriment as she looked at him. "What's so funny, darlin?" he asked.

"You gentlemen sounded like you've been through this a few times."

"Actually, Melanie, they have," Travis answered as he looked back at Larabee. "This one more than he should."

"Sor...ry. Orrin...sa...fe trip...back," the blond apologized as he felt sleep beckoning to him. He couldn't understand why he seemed to be growing more and more tired with each awakening. He sighed as he gave in to the call of sleep, knowing his men were there and always would be.

"You headed back to Billings, Orrin?"

"Yeah, someone's got to be there to keep the clients in line and make sure the organization doesn't fall apart without its most elite members. Take care of them both, Buck."

"I plan...we plan on, Orrin."

"Call me if any of you need anything."

"We will, Orrin and thanks." Buck watched as the older man silently said goodbye to Larabee and walked out the door. He saw him stop as Vin, JD, Nathan, and Ezra stepped out of the elevator. He watched them say goodbye to their boss before the owner of The Firm left the hospital. He turned back to his friend and flicked away the strand of unruly blond hair that fell across the damp forehead. 'Ya got friends, Chris, lots of friends and we're gonna stick by you no matter what happens,' he vowed as he sank into the chair beside his friends bed.

Part 22

The next twenty-four hours passed in a haze of tests and pain for Chris. Blood and urine samples were taken continuously and he was vaguely aware of his friends being in the room at different intervals. An ultrasound was performed, followed by a radioisotope scan. Chris never complained, but the look on his face when one of the nurses came to tell his nurse that someone else was ready for him was one of sheer misery. The last test performed the night before was called a Renal Biopsy and he still felt some discomfort from it.

Chris lay in the bed, his eyes closed, listening to Ezra and JD talk about the Ace of Spades and wondering how Chris knew where it was. He wanted to tell them, but he wasn't sure he knew the answer and his energy level was almost nil. His body felt bloated and he remembered the doctors mentioning something about testing for kidney function. That's where the new round of tests were coming from. He felt a sense of detachment from reality except reality would slam him back into the world of pain he'd been in since waking in Maguire's chamber. He knew part of it was depression, brought on by his inability to do things for himself and he remembered Susan James telling him it was natural after suffering a devastating trauma.

Ezra knew Chris was awake, but he let JD continue with his questions, knowing Chris would talk to them when he felt like it. Right now the injuries and pain were clear on Larabee's face, but the kid seemed oblivious to it. JD still had an air of innocence gifted to youth. He knew that wouldn't last much longer as the young Bostonian continued to work in his chosen profession. Already the questions he asked had been answered in full and clear detail of real life and its effects on a man's body and mind. Ezra remembered watching JD when he thought no one was there. How the kid's eyes shone with unshed tears as he looked down at the injured blond when he was still hooked up to the ventilator. He listened as Chris' breathing changed and his eyes slowly opened.

"Welcome back, Mr. Larabee."

"Thanks, Ezra. What time is it?" Chris said as he tried to get comfortable in the bed. He smiled as Anne checked the leads attached to his body and Standish looked at his watch.

"It's three in the afternoon," the gambler answered.

"What day?"

"Thursday, July 22nd."

"Hi Chris."

Larabee turned towards the dark haired youth. "Hi, Kid."

"How are you doing, Chris. Can I get you something?"

"A glass of water..."

"Ah, Chris," Anne began. "Not right now. How about some ice chips?"

"O...kay," Larabee answered. JD took the cup of ice and spooned some into Chris waiting mouth.

Chris sucked on the ice and waited for more. He was grateful when the spoon was returned and more ice eased the dryness in his mouth and throat. "Thanks, Kid," he said as he lay back against the pillow. He looked at the door and smiled at the pale man standing there. "Vin. Did you get out of here?"

Tanner walked into the room greeted JD and Ezra and eased into the chair next to the bed. "Yeah, got sprung from here 'bout an hour ago."

"Then why are you still here?"

Tanner's eyebrows rose as he looked at his friend in disbelief.

"We'll be back shortly, Mr. Tanner," Standish said as he led JD from the room. "You take care, Mr. Larabee."

"Take it easy, Chris, I'll come back later," Dunne told him.

"Thanks, JD, Ez. See you guys later." Chris turned his gaze back to his best friend. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"What are you still doing here?"

"Did you really think I'd leave with you still here? Besides, I won't have a choice in a few minutes when Nathan finds me AWOL from my room."

Larabee laughed and had it turn into a harsh cough. The attack lasted about a minute before he could get it under control. By the time he did he was out of breath and his chest felt as if it was on fire again. He felt Tanner's hand on his shoulder and forced his eyes open again. He saw the pain he felt mirrored in the emotional blue eyes looking at him. "Th...anks, Vin."

"You okay?"

"Yeah....think s...so...ask me 'gain la...ter."

"Chris, it's time for your medication again," Anne said as she placed the mask over his mouth and nose.

"T....trouble."

"No, Chris, you're no trouble," Anne smiled as she reassured her patient.

"Not mean me...V...Vin in trou....ble."

"Me? Why?'

"Busted...Nathan," Larabee smiled in spite of how he felt.

"Oh, Hell, any chance I can hide?"

"Lots of st....uff to hide be...hind," the blond smiled as Jackson entered the room.

"Hi, Chris."

"Nathan," Larabee greeted softly.

"Vin."

"Hi, Nate," Tanner said with a broad smile.

"Don't turn that smile on me 'cause it ain't gonna work. You said you'd stay in your room..."

"No. I said I'd stay in the room. I just didn't say which room..." Both men looked down at the patient as a soft, but tired laugh emanated from beneath the mask covering his face. "What's so funny, Cowboy?"

"You...two. Go get some rest, Vin. I'm just gonna sleep anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Only thing I can do," he said tiredly as his eyes closed.

Nathan and Vin stood for a few moments, watching and listening as their friend continued to fight for his life. Both men knew Chris was not getting any better and wondered what was causing this new crisis.

+ + + + + + +

Chris opened his eyes and knew it was late. The lights in his little ICU room were turned down as were the lights in the hallway. The soft clip of padded shoes sounded in the hallway and he watched as a white clothed figure walked past his door. He heard a sound on the other side of his room and turned his head. He tried to remember the woman's name, but his fog enshrouded mind couldn't quite grasp it. His body had gone beyond pain and he just felt numb. He knew this wouldn't last and was probably the result of the medications he was being given.

Katherine turned from the monitor and walked back to the bed. She looked into the sea green eyes and knew this man hated what was happening to him. She could read a lot in a person's eyes and these wonderful windows were laced in a pain she hated to see. She knew the results of the tests would be all in by morning and that Barrett and Mullen would have a decision to make concerning the next course of treatment.

"How are you, Mr. Larabee?" she asked.

Chris looked at the short, stocky, red head standing beside his bed. Her hazel eyes were filled with concern and he forced a smile to his face. "Thir...sty," he answered and soon felt the mask lifted and the spoon placed before his mouth. He sucked on the small offering and nodded as she offered him more.

Katherine returned his smile and replaced the mask after she'd fed him the ice chips. She knew he was thirsty, but her orders were to give him only ice chips right now. She moved to the urine collection container and frowned as she saw less than 44ccs had been collected since she'd emptied it an hour ago. She watched his eyes close and knew he'd fallen back to sleep, and hoped the sigh she heard was a sign that his dreams were good ones. She returned to the monitors and equipment surrounding him as her patient seemed to relax on the bed.

+ + + + + + +

Chris slept peacefully, wrapped in the arms of the woman he loved. His dreams were once more of things he held dear, of a love that was so deep it could never be taken from him. He lay in the bed, content in her arms as he listened to the soft snoring he often teased her about. He smiled as he remembered the smack on the arm she'd given him when he'd told Buck how she'd kept him awake on their wedding night not by making love to him, but by calling in the cows. He smiled as Buck's musical laughter sounded and Sarah chased him around their small two bedroom apartment. The next day he would surprise her with a house. A home, a place they would call their own. He wasn't rich, but he'd managed to save a fair sized nest egg and would present the results to his new wife the next day. He knew it was an exorbitant wedding gift, but it was also an investment in their future. A place where their love could grow and where they could raise their children in a loving and safe environment.

The dream advanced quickly and Chris frowned as he felt something hot surrounding him. His mouth opened in a silent scream of rage and despair as he stood before his house. He tried to run into the red and yellow flames but was caught and held in a vicelike grip. He fought against the strong hands, but was soon forced to the ground as the roof collapsed and sparks of fire and burning wood erupted all around him, showering him and Buck Wilmington in a blaze of heated debris. He screamed long and hard as he watched his hopes and dreams disappear before his eyes. His throat burned as a savage rage gave him the strength to pull away from his long time friend. He raced towards the house even as his shirt caught fire and Wilmington tackled him again. He heard sirens, but they were drowned out by the screams ringing in his ears.

"God, NO!" he screamed as he came fully awake and his chest grew tight. An iron fist hammered at his ribs and it felt as if his head had split in two as the nightmare finally released its horrified victim.

Anne had only just came in for her shift and was once again updating the chart on her patient when Larabee's scream reached her ears. She hurried to the bed as his body shook and soft sobs escaped his throat. She had no idea what he'd been dreaming about, but the violent shivers running down the lean frame told her it was nothing good. She placed her hand on his shoulder and waited until he turned saddened, red-rimmed eyes on her. She reached for a cloth and gently washed away the evidence of his tears. She saw the gratitude in his eyes, but there was something else there that scared her. The pain she saw there now was not a physical pain, it was something she knew he kept hidden inside. His breathing was labored and she moved to get his medication ready. She looked towards the door as Buck Wilmington came towards the bed.

The ladies man had slipped out to grab a bite to eat and a coffee. He knew as soon as he entered the room something had happened to his friend. He hurried forward and placed a reassuring hand on his friend's forehead, flicking back the soaked blond strands. "Hey, Chris, want to talk about it?"

"N...no," Larabee answered as Anne replaced the mask over his face.

"Might help," Buck suggested.

"Never does."

"The fire?" Wilmington knew he was right by the look in the green eyes. His friend continued to have nightmares about the murder of Sarah and Adam and Buck knew they would never go away. They might fade, but they would never be far from his mind, whether he was awake or asleep. Buck knew his own dreams were vivid and painful, yet his friend's must've been ten times as bad. He swallowed past the guilt he still felt over that horrifying night, but knew it would always be a weight on his shoulders.

Chris saw the guilt on the emotional face before him and lifted his left hand. He caught Wilmington's arm and forced a smile to his face. "It's okay, Buck."

The scoundrel nodded and bit back the unshed tears. He wanted more than anything to wipe away the pain that night still caused his long time friend, but knew it would always be a part of them. They'd both decided long ago not to let it tear apart what they meant to each other. Buck knew a lot of people thought he resented Vin Tanner's entrance into Larabee's life, but the truth was he was grateful to the sharpshooter for helping Chris past the worst time of his life. He knew they'd be hearing from the doctors sometime today and he vowed to find out just how sick his friend was and what they planned to do to help him. He settled into the chair as Larabee's eyes closed once more. He watched as the nurse cared for her patient and saw something in her eyes. He'd always been able to read the opposite sex, and something about this auburn haired beauty told him she saw past the battered body to what lay beneath. He wondered if Anne would be the one to help Chris love again.

+ + + + + + +

Derrick Barrett and Joe Mullen looked at the reports spread out on the table before them. Most of the results confirmed a problem with Larabee's kidney function and things were now at a critical level and immediate intervention was required.

"I don't like the high BUN, creatinine, and potassium levels, Derrick," Mullen explained.

"I know. There's no other choice now is there?"

"I'm afraid not. If we don't go ahead with the treatments it will only get worse," Mullen said as he looked at the newest results of blood work and urine samples. "His output has dropped to 35ccs per hour and that's dangerous."

"When do you want to start?"

"Right now. I'll call and make arrangements."

"All right, Joe. I'll go speak with his friends," Barrett said as he shuffled the papers back into the already thick folder.

"I'll join you as soon as I've made those calls."

"Thanks, Joe," Barrett said as he began the long walk to the waiting room. He knew the news he was about to give these men was not good and was grateful that his friend would be joining him.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Vin sat beside the bed and watched as his friend seemed to drift in and out of sleep. One minute he seemed to be waking up, but the next time he looked Larabee would be sleeping again. He knew the others were meeting with Derrick Barrett and he'd wanted to be there, but hated the idea of leaving his friend alone. Buck or one of the others would fill him in on what was going on. He smiled as he watched Anne tenderly caring for his friend. They changed the location of Larabee's IVs earlier in the day and Vin could see bruises where the tiny catheters had originally been inserted. Now the new lines ran into the top of Chris' hand and again just below the elbow. The sharpshooter rubbed his own injured shoulder and shifted stiffly in the chair.

"Vin, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. Truth be told he was exhausted. The headaches he suffered from kept him from sleeping and his immobilized shoulder made it impossible to get comfortable in the strange hotel bed. "How's he doing, Anne?"

Anne knew the young man was trying to change the subject, yet she could tell he was far from well. She picked up the warm cloth and gently washed her patient's face as she answered. "Right now he's a very sick man, Vin. The doctors will explain everything to your friends and then they'll be coming here to set things up for Chris."

"Set things up?" Tanner asked and turned back to his friend as Chris' eyes shot open above the oxygen mask. Vin saw a spark of panic and placed his hand on Larabee's shoulder. "Hey, Cowboy, you're not alone."

"V....Vin?"

"That's right. How are you feeling?"

"Don't kn...ow...every...thing ju...st hu...rts. Could as...ask you the same th...ing?"

"I'm fine."

"Not fine...what's wrong?"

Vin smiled as he realized even as sick as Chris was he could still read him. "Head and shoulder still hurt a mite, but it's gettin' better."

"Still look l...like shit," Larabee mumbled.

"Thanks, Pard, ya really know how to make a guy feel good."

"Can't look much worse'n me."

Larabee's voice had changed and Vin sensed the older man was feeling depressed and in pain. "Hey, Pard, ya don't look that bad. Just ask Anne?"

"You're looking just fine, Chris," Anne said as she flicked back the unruly hair. "A little pale, but otherwise fine."

"Bad a l...liar as he is," Larabee said softly and coughed into the mask. "Shit!"

"Don't fight it, Chris," Anne warned.

"Ha...te...it," Larabee wheezed between coughs.

"I know you do, but you have to start getting the mucus off your lungs," Anne explained as she lifted the mask slightly and washed her patients lips. The attack lasted less than two minutes, but left her patient weak and in pain. She stepped back as Vin Tanner's voice calmed the injured man.

Part 23

Barrett looked at the men seated in the doctor's lounge and was glad he'd decided to have this meeting here instead of the waiting room. They were a solemn group and he knew they understood he was about to give them the lowdown on Chris Larabee. Vin Tanner was absent, but Barrett knew where he was. He'd seen the young man sitting beside his friend's bed and talking softly to him. He knew the others would tell him what was happening once the meeting was over. He looked at the door and nodded gratefully at Joe Mullen as he joined them at the table.

"Doc, what's going on?" Wilmington asked, a worried frown on his face.

"Gentlemen, This is a colleague of mine, his name is Joe Mullen and he's head of the hospital's Nephrology department."

"Nephrology?" Standish asked.

"Kidneys. Dialysis," Jackson answered automatically.

"What?" the ladies man snapped.

"That's what Nephrology deals with Buck!" Jackson answered.

"But Why would Chris need someone from Nephrology?" Dunne asked.

"Why don't we give Dr. Barrett a chance to explain," Sanchez suggested, his voice deceptively calm.

"Thank you, Mr. Sanchez. Mr. Jackson's correct in what Nephrology is. Now, I'd like Joe to explain what's going on with Chris and what we're going to do about it."

Mullen looked from one serious face to another and realized these men had an idea how serious this situation was. He opened the file in front of him, folded his hands and spoke softly. "Gentlemen, as Derrick explained I specialize in kidneys and their function. The kidneys help to clean the blood and removes waste and excess water from the body. Right now Mr. Larabee's are not working the way they should."

"Why?" JD asked.

"This sometimes happens in cases like Mr. Larabee's. He was brought in with significant injuries, in shock, and suffering from severe dehydration."

"So what exactly is Mr. Larabee's malady, besides the obvious ones?" the gambler asked.

"Mr. Larabee is suffering from Acute Renal Failure due to Acute Tubular Necrosis."

"Dammit, Doc, that means nothing to me. What the hell does it mean in simple terms?" Wilmington asked.

"It means that we need to step in and help Mr. Larabee until his kidneys are able to function the way they should."

"Dialysis?"

"That's correct Mr. Jackson," Barrett answered.

"For how long?" Sanchez asked.

"That depends on how much damage was done," Mullen answered. "There's no way to know for sure."

"Doc, what type of Dialysis are you going to use?" Jackson asked.

"We'll be doing Hemodialysis and by now the equipment should be on its way to Mr. Larabee's room. So if you gentlemen will excuse us we'll get everything set up and you may resume your visits."

"We're going to explain everything to Chris before we hook him up to the dialysis machine so it could be a while before you can visit him. Just remember when you do that he'll be tired and he really does need to rest. We'll let you know when we're finished," Barrett explained.

"Doctor, I'll come with you and explain things to Vin."

"Nathan, you're going to have to explain it to the rest of us as well," Sanchez supplied.

"I know, Josiah. You guys wait here and I'll be back in a few," Jackson said as he followed the doctors from the room.

+ + + + + + +

Chris listened to Vin's soft voice as he recited one of the poems he'd written for all of them. That the sharpshooter had a poet's heart and a hero's wisdom was not lost on the blond, and he could listen to Tanner's voice and words for hours. The soft tones, the sometimes moody pieces were always well done and Chris knew his best friend was far better than most of the modern day writers. He opened his eyes and looked towards the door as a fair sized machine was placed outside the window to his room. One look at the sharpshooter told him he'd seen it too. He frowned as Barrett, Mullen, and Nathan Jackson entered his room.

"Mr. Tanner, would you excuse us for a few minutes," Barrett explained.

"N...no," Larabee said emphatically. "Stay, V...Vin."

Again he noticed the depression and pain in Chris' voice and he stayed where he was. "Ain't going nowhere, Cowboy."

"Mr. Tanner..."

"Doc," Jackson interrupted Barrett and waited for him to turn away from the patient. "You might find it easier if Vin stayed while you explained what's going on."

"All right, Chris. Mr. Tanner can stay until we finish explaining what's going to happen.," Barrett agreed.

"Vin, I'll wait outside the door for you," Jackson explained. He saw the shaggy head dip once, read the worry on the handsome face and left the room.

"Find o...out what's wr...ong?" Larabee asked softly.

"Yes, Chris we did," Barrett explained. "Do you remember Dr. Mullen?"

Chris nodded once and answered. "Kid...ney doctor."

"That's right, Mr. Larabee. We have the results of all those tests we did on you and we know what's wrong and how to treat it."

"What's wrong?" Larabee repeated.

"All your tests results show us you're in Acute Renal Failure," Mullen explained.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning your kidneys are not functioning like they should..."

"What are you gonna do about it, Doc?" Tanner interrupted.

"Chris, you understand how the kidneys work to rid the body of waste..."

"Yeah," Larabee answered impatiently. He was growing tired and wanted to know what was happening before he succumbed to the call of sleep.

"Well, because of everything you've been through yours are not doing what they're supposed to," Mullen explained. "They need help for a little while so they can heal up and get strong again."

"What are you going to do?" Tanner asked noting the weariness on Larabee's face.

"We're going to use a dialysis machine to do the job of your kidneys for now. There are two types of Dialysis. One is called Peritoneal Dialysis, the other is called Hemodialysis. The one I propose to do is Hemodialysis."

"Hemo...dialysis?"

"That's right, Mr. Larabee. Hemodialysis means cleaning the blood and that's exactly what this treatment does.Blood is circulated through a machine which contains an artificial kidney. It has two spaces separated by a thin membrane. Blood will pass on one side of the membrane and dialysis fluid passes on the other. Basically the wastes and excess water pass from the blood, through the membrane and into the dialysis fluid which is then discarded. The cleaned blood is returned to your bloodstream." He could see the fear in Larabee and Tanner's eyes and continued before they could voice any questions. "This is not permanent by any means, Mr. Larabee. It's only until your kidneys are ready to take over the job they normally perform."

"How long?"

"Probably a week, maybe a little longer."

Chris stared through the window at the machine sitting there. Something about it scared him, but he wouldn't let it show. "How do you ho...ok it up?"

"You would be hooked up through a central venous catheter, which you already have. The treatment lasts approximately three to five hours and will be done three times a week. As I said, I'm hopeful that it will only take a week, but that doesn't mean you'll be up and around after that. We will need to monitor you closely until everything is as it should be. Now, I'd really like to get you set up here..."

"Will it hurt him, Doc?" Tanner asked, truly concerned about how much more pain his friend would have to endure.

"There may be a little discomfort, but hopefully it won't be too bad," Mullen explained. "Mr. Larabee, there are some papers you need to sign and then we'll get started. All right?"

"...okay..." Larabee agreed tiredly.

"Mr. Tanner, if you would leave us for a while," Barrett said as Mullen showed the papers to Chris and explained what they were for.

"Chris..."

"Go, Vin...I'm okay," Larabee sighed as he listened to the doctor and wished he was once again listening to his friend reciting poetry instead. He signed the paper as Vin left and finally gave into the pain and exhaustion racing through his body.

Barrett and Mullen took advantage of the patient's unconscious state and had the Hemodialysis machine pulled into the room. They worked steadily to hook Larabee up to it and ensure that it was working properly. With Anne's help everything was connected and running smoothly. The two men made notations on the patient's chart before leaving the room.

'So much pain heaped on one man,' Anne thought as she watched the machine performing its task. She looked to the door as Josiah Sanchez and Vin Tanner came into the room.

'Too much pain. Just like his ancestor,' whispered a soft voice. The shadowy form of a long ago Josiah Sanchez shimmered as it faded from the room, knowing he was leaving this Chris Larabee to the protection of his friends.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Vin was once more seated beside Larabee's bed. The others were in the waiting room because the dialysis machine took up extra room and they were forced down to one visitor at a time. He'd relieved Buck about an hour ago and was stiff from sitting in the uncomfortable chair. Anne assured all of them that Chris was sleeping comfortably and was in no discomfort from the treatment he was undergoing. She'd bid them all goodnight, and again Vin couldn't help but notice the sympathy and caring on her face as she looked at the injured blond.

The new nurse introduced herself as Melody before checking her patient's vitals and making sure the Hemodialysis machine was still working properly. She knew he still had another hour before the portable machine could be removed and her eyes turned to the young man sitting beside the bed. His hair was unkempt, as if he'd been running his fingers through it continuously. The blue eyes were shadowed with dark rims and showed just how hard this was on him.

"Vin, you need to rest."

"I'm okay, Melody," Tanner said and quickly stifled a yawn.

"I don't think so, Vin. Your friends are in the waiting room and I think you need to get one of them to take you home and put you to bed. From what Anne told me you've been here all day and I can see you're far from well yourself."

"Just need to know he's gonna be all right...."

"I'm fine, Vin. Go....sleep..."

"Hey, Cowboy."

"Where are the others?" Larabee asked tiredly.

"In the waiting room. They...we've all been worried about you."

"Don't be...I'm fine...just tired...thirsty." He felt a straw placed to his lips and sucked at the cool water. "Thanks..."

"My name is Melody, Chris. You let me know if you need anything at all. Okay?"

"...okay..." Larabee sighed heavily as he turned back to his friend. "Get the others and go home, Vin."

"Not gonna leave you here alone."

"Won't be alone. Melody is here. I gotta be here, Vin, you and the boys don't. I'm not gonna be much company anyway. Just gonna go back to sleep."

"We can watch your back, Chris."

"I know ya can, but I won't sleep if I know you boys are not taking care of yourselves and get s...sick be...cause of me."

"We're o...kay..."

"No...not...you boys are...worn o...out. 'Sides, Vin, I got the others here with me. Saw Josiah in a funny get up earlier and I think the others are still around. Nothing's gonna happen with them here, Vin."

"Who?"

"You know as well as I do who. They were there when M...Maguire tried to kill me..."

"The cowboys..."

"Don't call them that," Larabee said with a grin. "Least not my great, great, grandfather. For some reason he never took kindly to being called a cowboy."

"Sounds like someone else I know. Least now I know where you get it from." Tanner unconsciously rubbed at his head. The headache was there, but not the debilitating kind he'd recently suffered from.

"Go home, Pard. Sleep, eat and I'll see you tomorrow."

"You sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Vin, really I am."

"I'll get the others so they can say goodnight to you," Tanner told the rapidly tiring blond.

"Okay," Larabee answered and smiled as Vin walked out of the room.

Chris felt someone looking at him and turned towards the nurse. He smiled under the oxygen mask at the look on her face.

"You know him very well, Mr. Larabee."

"Chris..."

"Chris it is. You're a good friend."

"No...I have good friends. The best," he told her as Buck and JD came into the room.

"Vin tells us you're kicking us out, Chris," JD said.

"Yeah, Stud, ya tryin' to give us a complex," Wilmington commented.

"No...just trying to let you get...beau...ty sleep...need lots..."

"Ah, hell, ya wound me, Chris. I don't need no beauty sleep. The ladies just naturally flock to my animal..."

"Give it up, Buck, it ain't working," JD observed. "Chris, I'll be back tomorrow, okay. You need something you tell them to call me."

Larabee smiled as he looked at the kid from Boston. "I will, JD, thanks."

"Same, here, Chris. Anything, you hear me, anything at all." Wilmington squeezed Larabee's uninjured shoulder in a gesture of the long time friendship they shared. He could tell by the green eyes that he understood the silent vow.

"Thanks, Buck." Chris watched the two men leave and two more take their place.

"Mr. Larabee, I am looking forward to the day you get rid of these accessories."

"Not as much as I am, Ezra."

"I think it will be a day of great celebration, Mr." He stopped and swallowed the painful lump in his throat. "Chris, Please, no more complications. Okay?"

"I'll try," Larabee said as the gambler left the room, but not before Chris caught site of the watery eyes. He sighed heavily as he looked at the medic. "I'm okay, Nathan," he answered the unspoken question.

Jackson knew that was far from true, but he smiled at the injured man.

"I'm glad to hear that, Chris."

"Make sure Vin gets some sleep. Looks t...terrible...all do," Larabee wheezed as he fought against the oncoming coughing attack.

"I'll see that he gets some rest, Chris. The others too," the medic assured him.

"Thanks, Nathan."

"Anytime, Chris. Take your own advice and sleep."

"I will," Larabee said, closing his eyes for a second. He heard someone stand beside his bed and smiled without opening his eyes. "Hello, Josiah."

"Hello, Chris. I won't ask how you feel right now. I don't think you'd answer honestly if I did."

"Probably not," the blond answered as he opened his eyes and looked up at the older man.

"I wanted you to know that we are here for you. If there is anything I can do to help you just let me know what it is, and I will do everything in my power to see it gets done."

"Make Vin stay home and rest tomorrow," Larabee said with a slight smile.

"Now, Brother, I said ask for anything, but I didn't say ask for something we all know is impossible. That would be like him asking me to keep you from visiting him when he's a guest in a medical facility. Sleep well, Chris, things will get better."

"Thanks, Josiah, think I'll do just that. Goodnight."

"Sleep, well, Chris Larabee, you're not, nor have you ever been alone," Sanchez said as he felt a strange warmth in the tiny room. A smile formed on his face as he turned away from the blond's bed, knowing he would not be alone through the long night.

Melody watched her patient sink into a deep sleep and once again ran through his vitals.

Chris slept through the night, unaware of the Dialysis machine being unhooked, or blood and urine samples being taken. His dreams were easy and sometimes a smile would turn up the corners of his mouth.

Part 24

Chris woke slowly, his body stiff, and unyielding as he tried to move. Pain seemed to be a predominant feeling with him lately, but it was his hip giving him the most trouble this morning. He couldn't move very much, and for that he was grateful as each movement sent knifing pains through the injured joint. He tried to reach for the troublesome spot, but his body just would not allow such movement. His left arm was laden down with two IVs and made it impossible to reach across his body to reach the source of the pain. A soft moan left his throat as he struggled to full awareness and turned to the man standing beside the bed.

"Good morning, Chris. How are you feeling?" Barrett asked.

Chris knew the others were not there yet or one of them would've been sitting in the room with him. The Dialysis machine was no longer beside his bed and he was grateful not to have to look at the reminder of what he still had to go through. He knew he was feeling sorry for himself and winced as he again tried to move.

"Chris, try not to move around too much."

"Can't s...stay like this a...anymore. My b...back and b...butt can't h...andle it," he muttered.

"Hurting?"

"Yeah, and numb."

"We can turn you a little onto your left side. Anne, could you grab some blankets or soft pillows to prop him with?"

"Yes, Doctor Barrett," Anne answered and left to get something they could use as a wedge. She returned a minute later with a soft triangular sponge approximately two feet long, covered in a clean white pillowcase. When she entered the room an orderly was standing with Barrett and the doctor was instructing them on what he wanted to do.

"Are you ready, Chris?" Barrett asked.

"Think so," Larabee answered.

"All right, just relax and don't try to help us. Greg and I are going to ease you up slightly and Anne is going to place a wedge behind your back."

"Okay," Larabee kept his eyes closed and soon felt hands touching his body. He gritted his teeth and held his breath as they eased him up. He bit his bottom lip as the right side of his body was lifted slightly. He could hear Anne speaking softly to him, but her words didn't register in his mind. White-hot pain erupted in his right hip as she positioned the wedge and the two men eased him back down. He coughed into the mask and cried out, wondering if the move had been a wise one after all. Again he heard Anne's voice as she talked to him and replaced the oxygen mask over his head. He knew they'd added the Bronchodilators to the nebulizer as he sucked in the medication. His breathing eased after a few minutes and he opened watery eyes. "S...sorry," he apologized.

"You've got nothing to apologize for, Chris," Barrett assured him. "Just relax and breathe in the medication."

"O...kay." The patient sank back into his pillows and breathed easy as the morphine entered his system and the pain eased. He felt great being off his back and he knew it wouldn't be long before he fell asleep again.

"Are you comfortable like this or would you rather we put you on your back again?" the doctor asked.

"Fe...feels better, Doc. Not so tender."

"That's good. Now you let us know when this gets uncomfortable."

"I will."

"Anne, any problems, just have me paged."

"I will, Doctor Barrett." Anne assured him. She watched him leave and turned back to her patient. This was the last day of her rotation and she wondered if it would be advisable for her to drop in to see how he was doing. She knew it was ill advised to become personally involved with her patients, yet something about this man made her want to know more about him. She looked down to see two deep green pools looking at her and gasped as she realized she did have feelings for this man. She couldn't deny the flush she felt in her cheeks as she looked at him.

"Anne, you okay?" Larabee asked.

"I'm fine, Chris. I'm going to get things ready to give you a bath..."

"I...I..."he stammered.

She saw the slight flush of color on his cheeks in spite of the fading bruises. "It's okay, Chris, I've seen it all before..."

"Not with me..."

"Actually, with you. I've been helping look after you for a week now. Surely you don't think I kept my eyes closed while caring for you." She laughed softly at the chagrined look on his face.

Chris heard the laughter, yet there was nothing mocking in her tone. He knew she was trying to lighten his own sensitivities. What she offered was beginning to sound great. Chris had no idea how long it had been since his last bath and right now he felt like it had been a lifetime ago.

"Well, Chris?"

"A bath sounds good, but...."

"But you'd rather do it yourself." She saw it on his face and knew she was right. "I tell you what we'll do. Right now it's impossible for you to do it yourself with the IVs in your left hand and your right arm immobilized. I'll do this one and as soon as the IVs are gone you can do it yourself. Deal?"

"Guess so," Larabee answered softly as he closed his eyes. He heard Anne closing the door and the drapes and opened his eyes to watch her. She was at the small sink and he heard the water running and was surprised to find he was actually looking forward to feeling clean again. He remembered an earlier bath at her hands, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. She walked towards him, the basin in one hand and a towel flung over her shoulder. The smile she wore sent a shiver of warmth through his body and he watched as she finished preparing things. He felt her hands lift the mask from his face and soon felt the warm soapy cloth being washed over his face and neck. He relaxed as her soft hands cleaned the sweat from his upper body. She didn't speak and for that he was grateful. He felt the blanket eased off his waist and the cloth was eased around his intimate area, gently avoiding the catheter and the tubing leading from it. He held his breath as she cleaned the area and sucked in a deep breath as she finished. He felt her place a towel over his waist and hips before she continued to clean his thighs, knees, and calves. He felt himself drifting as her gentle touch eased away the tension and pain in his body. Her hands never made contact with his skin, but he knew they were behind the soft cloth she ran over his skin.

"Chris?"

"Hmm."

"I only have your feet left. Are you ticklish?"

"Sarah a...always t...tickled me. Said my feet were the only part of me she didn't know in intimate detail."

Anne heard the wistful tone of his voice and wondered who Sarah was. She knew whoever it was Chris Larabee loved her deeply. "So I should be careful?"

"Yeah. Sarah was the only one who even got near them."

Again his voice held a thoughtful tone and she knew he was falling asleep. "I'll try not to tickle you."

"Okay," Larabee said as he felt himself losing the battle to stay awake. "Sarah's gone now. Died...her and Adam....loved them so...but couldn't save 'em. Heaven...now waiting for me..."

She knew he was asleep as she finished cleaning his feet. She had a feeling Sarah and Adam meant more to this man than life itself and wondered if he would ever be able to love that deeply again. She covered his body with the thin sheet, aware that he was still running a fever and they needed to keep it from going any higher. She emptied the water and opened the drapes and door, knowing it wouldn't be long before Chris Larabee's friends would be storming back in.

+ + + + + + +

"Vin, maybe you should stay in bed until that headache..."

"I'm goin', Nathan. Told Chris I'd be there today and I aim to be," Tanner winced as he sat on the edge of the bed. The stiffness he'd felt the day before had intensified and he felt like an old man as he tried to stand.

"Vin, Chris'll understand..."

"I know he will, Nate, but..."

"But you feel like you're letting him down if you don't go visit him?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"If he sees you like that it'll just make him worry..."

"Not as much as it would if I don't show up today."

"I didn't say you couldn't go see him, Vin. You and I could stay here and let the others visit him this morning. If you're up to it this afternoon I'll take you there myself."

"Nathan..." Tanner hissed as he stood on shaky legs, pain knifing through his skull. He swayed and would've fallen if not for the medic's quick reflexes.

Jackson eased him back in the bed and hurried to grab a glass of water and his pain medication. He opened the bottle and dumped two pills into his hands and hurried back to the bed. The sharpshooter was on his left side with his knees drawn up and his left hand shielding his eyes from the light. "Vin, take these," he ordered. It was a testament to how badly the younger man was feeling as he accepted the pills and water without question.

"Thanks," Tanner whispered.

Jackson covered the near naked man with the blankets and patted his back gently. "You sleep, Vin. I'll let the others know to go on without us."

Tanner lifted his head and peered through hooded eyes at the medic. "O...kay. Tell them....tell Chris...be in la...ter."

"I will. Now close them eyes and get that head down and go to sleep."

"Feel like shit, Nate."

"I bet you do, Vin, but it really will get better," Jackson said as the blue eyes finally closed. "For both of you." He walked out of the bedroom and into the large main room. The others were already up and dressed and looked at him expectantly.

"How is he?" Sanchez asked.

"Not good, Josiah. He's got one of those damned headaches again. I got him to take a couple of the pills Dr. Milano prescribed and he's sleeping. You boys go visit Chris and if Vin's feeling up to it we'll come in when he wakes up."

"He's gonna be okay isn't he?" Dunne asked.

"He'll be fine, JD, if he remembers he's only human and not some superhero with quick healing powers."

"Him and Chris both," Wilmington supplied.

"Our esteemed colleagues do tend to think of themselves as indestructible. Mr. Jackson, if you wish to visit with Mr. Larabee I will stay and care for Mr. Tanner," Standish told them.

"No, it's okay, Ez. I want to keep an eye on him and make sure he gets the rest he needs."

"As you wish, Mr. Jackson," the conman said. He knew the others saw through the use of formality on his part, but could not break the age old habit instilled in him by his formidable mother. He smiled as he realized some habits had been broken in spite of her teaching. He'd grown to care for these men and they were the brothers he'd never known in his early life. A life where he'd grown up without the benefit of the loving atmosphere most children had. Maude Standish was a woman who lived the high life and did not have time to be tied down with a child. He'd been shuffled from relative to relative, and although they'd been good to him, they weren't his mother. They were not the one he needed. He sighed as he looked at the four men in the room with him and wished the two missing men were there as well.

"Hey, Ez, you coming?" the ladies man asked from the door.

Standish shook himself out of the past and answered. "Why of course, Mr. Wilmington."

Nathan sank into one of the high backed chairs and watched the others leave. He turned on the TV and scanned the channels for something to watch. He settled on an old Bugs Bunny cartoon, glad Vin was sleeping and unaware that he secretly enjoyed the old cartoons.

+ + + + + + +

Chris watched through the open curtains as four men walked towards his room. He frowned as he noted the two that were missing and prayed there was nothing wrong with his 'brother'. Buck and JD came into the room while Josiah and Ezra moved towards the waiting room. He smiled as the ladies man stood next to he bed and took a comb from his pocket.

"Morning, Chris. Anne."

"Morning, Buck, JD," Larabee greeted the two men.

Wilmington began running the comb through Larabee's tangled blond hair. "Hell, Chris, we gotta do something about this do of yours. Ya really need to get it cut. I mean it's a shame to keep the ladies from seeing that handsome face of yours. They see you like this and you'll never get one of them to take you up on the offer of a date. Here, now that looks better, not much, but it'll do until you get a haircut."

Larabee smiled at his long time friend as he finished combing the tangled strands of blond hair. "Thanks, Buck."

Wilmington could see Chris was thanking him for more than fixing his hair and he gently squeezed Larabee's uninjured shoulder. He noticed the blond was turned a little on his side and seemed to be in a little less pain. He leaned in closer and caught the distinct odor of soap. He smiled evilly at his friend and turned to the nurse.

"Someone's been real busy this morning," the smile grew broader as Anne's cheeks took on a slightly pink tinge.

"Shut up, Buck," Larabee hissed as he saw the look in the ladies' man's eyes.

"Ah, hell, Stud, maybe I shouldn't have fixed your hair. If the lovely ladies are willing to give you baths...Oh, hell, sponge baths at that..."

"Buck..."

"JD, think maybe we could get us one of them sponge baths?"

"I don't know, Buck. Maybe if we were to ask..."

Chris closed his eyes and groaned at the two men. "Where the hell's my gun when I need it?"

Anne could see a change in her patient and was glad to see a real smile on his face. It easily took away from the fading bruises and once more she was struck by thoughts of what he would look like once the bruises were totally gone.

Buck leaned closer to Larabee's ear and whispered softly. "Got a feeling Anne enjoyed giving the bath as much as you enjoyed having it, Stud."

Larabee almost choked as he heard the teasing note in Wilmington's words. He shook his head and looked into the dancing, mischievous blue eyes above him. "You always could make me smile, Buck," he said and knew the ladies man understood what he was saying.

"Anytime, Chris," Wilmington vowed.

"Is Vin okay?"

"He's just got a headache, Chris," Dunne answered automatically.

Wilmington turned a silent glare on the younger man before turning his attention back to Larabee. The light banter from earlier was gone and worry shone in the sea-green eyes. "He's okay, Chris. Nathan's staying with him and they'll come in later this afternoon."

"Tell him to stay home and rest."

"Ain't gonna happen, Chris. Nathan was lucky he agreed to stay home this morning."

"Stubborn!"

"You're one to talk. If Vin was the one in that bed, wild horses couldn't keep you away," Wilmington insisted.

"Yeah, Chris, you'd be the same as Vin," Dunne agreed.

"Proba...bly," Larabee wheezed. His chest was hurting again and the tightness had returned as he spoke to his friends.

"Chris, I'm going to get your medication ready. Just relax for a minute, okay?"

Larabee simply nodded as the effort to speak seemed to be too much for him. He tried to get enough air to enter his lungs, but knew that wouldn't happen until the new mask covered his face. 'Shit!' he thought as he realized his friends would be able to see his discomfort. He could hear Buck and JD talking, but couldn't quite pick out what they were saying, yet it was easy to hear the fear in their voices.

"I'm o...kay," he whispered, trying, but failing to ease their worry. He felt the new mask placed over his mouth and nose and breathed as deeply as his injured ribs would allow. He waited for the medication to take affect and finally opened his eyes once more. Wilmington and Dunne had been replaced by Standish and Sanchez. The two men watched him worriedly and he tried to smile reassuringly, but realized they couldn't see it because of the mask.

Josiah smiled as Larabee's breathing seemed to ease and the wheezing note they'd heard disappeared. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," Larabee answered softly.

"I am indeed glad to hear that, Mr. Larabee. I do believe our resident rogue was a little worried when he and Mr. Dunne left."

"Tell him...it's okay, Ez."

"I shall do just that," Standish assured him.

Chris shifted slightly and felt the morphine enter his system. He was grateful for the medication and knew it wouldn't be long before he was sleeping. He felt a cloth washed over his face and opened his eyes slightly. "Thanks, Ez," he said gratefully as he sank towards sleep.

Part 25

Chris groaned as he opened his eyes and tried to move. Something seemed to be stopping him from lifting his arms and he frowned. He tried to shift his left leg, but again it seemed weighted down. Voices nagged at his returning consciousness and his eyes flickered, once, twice, and finally opened on the third attempt. They focused on the worried faces above him and he wondered at the sorrow in the blue gaze.

"Vin? What hap...pened?" He tried to shift again and suddenly realized why he couldn't move. "NO!" he cried weakly.

"It's okay, Chris," Jackson soothed.

"NO! Get them off!" Larabee struggled against the restraints, but his movement was limited by the Velcro straps.

Vin reached out and placed his hand on the still fevered forehead. "Easy, Cowboy."

The blond's eyes widened as he listened to his friend's soft Texas drawl. "Take them off, Vin! Please!"

"Chris." Larabee turned towards the nurse. "The restraints are there for your protection..."

"Why?" the blond asked sadly, tears shining in the troubled eyes.

"You had another flashback, Chris. The doctor's didn't want you to hurt yourself," Jackson explained calmly.

"Flashback?" he asked and suddenly nightmare scenes swam before his suddenly unfocused eyes. Scenes in which he watched his friends being murdered over and over again at his own hands. Only the hands weren't his, but were attached to his body. He had no control over them as he sliced into Wilmington's exposed throat, or drove an ice pick into JD's stomach. "God!" he hissed as the hands lifted a heavy rock and quickly smashed it on Ezra's hands before completing the task of striking the gambler in the head, killing him instantly. Over and over the scenes replayed, going from one man to the other as the hands did what his unwilling body wouldn't. He watched his friends, his family die, violently, painfully and felt the tears flow down his cheeks. His breath came in hitching gasps as he shuddered uncontrollably. He gave up the fight to remain conscious and once more entered the nightmare world where Maguire controlled everything. Somewhere in his fevered dreams he heard a soft voice telling him things would work out. 'Sarah,' he thought as her words chased away the fear and let him sleep.

"Jesus, Chris," Tanner swore, feeling guilt rage in his gut. "I should've come in earlier."

"Vin, there's no point in beating yourself up over this. Even if you'd been here you couldn't have stopped the flashback from happening."

"Listen to Nathan, Vin," Anne explained as she finished taking her patient's vitals. "Flashbacks are unpredictable and can happen at any time."

"It just ain't fair! He's been through enough without having to deal with LSD flashbacks!"

"I agree, Vin, but Chris' is strong and he'll make it past all this."

"I know he will, Nathan, but that doesn't help him right now."

"No, it doesn't, but at least he's not alone."

"Never will be."

"You guys are good for each other," Anne said as she took a cloth and gently washed the evidence of tears from Larabee's cheeks.

"We're family, Anne," Jackson told her. "Vin, why don't you lie down in the waiting room for a while?"

"I'll stay with him, Nate."

"Vin!"

"I ain't leaving him."

"Stubborn, bull-headed." Jackson smiled as he saw the twinkle in Vin's eyes. "Never been two more pig-headed men born," he stated as he watched the sharpshooter stand silent vigil over their unconscious friend.

Vin's gaze strayed from the blond's face down over the injured body, stopping for a few seconds on the familiar Velcro restraints over his wrist and ankles. He hated seeing them there, but understood the necessity. He prayed they wouldn't be in place very long. "Maguire's still hurting ya, Pard," he whispered softly as he reached through the railing and touched Larabee's right hand.

+ + + + + + +

Chris slept through most of the next two days, but in spite of the sleep he still suffered from flashbacks. A couple were so violent and painful he'd fought against the restraints and no one could get through to him. His friends sat watching him, helpless to pull him from the hell he resided in. If Vin Tanner or Buck Wilmington were around the flashbacks were quelled, but if either man was not present it was hard pressed to get the injured man to realize where he was. The other four knew this was because of the closeness of the three men. Oh, they understood that Chris thought of them as family, but there was still a special bond between him and Buck. A bond that had its roots in their long time friendship. The bond with Vin Tanner was more recent, but it was stronger than anything they'd ever seen.

That bond was something that would help see Chris through this, but the fact that Vin Tanner was injured and still suffered concussion induced headaches made it impossible for him to be with Chris all the time. He had to be forced to leave the hospital and go back to the hotel in order to rest, yet sleep was elusive for him as his thoughts stayed where his body couldn't. He couldn't get past the picture of the pale blond strapped to the bed and unable to do anything for himself.

Vin lay awake in the bed, the drapes drawn, his eyes closed, but his body tense as he tried to relax. He knew he needed to sleep, yet the throbbing in his shoulder warned him he wouldn't be able to do that for a while.

"Here, Vin."

Tanner turned at the sound of the ex-preacher's voice. He saw the tray in the man's hand and shifted upwards in the bed. "What is it?"

Sanchez placed the tray on his lap and lifted the cover. "Lunchtime, my friend."

Vin didn't realize how long it was since he'd eaten and the aroma of the soup made his stomach grumble as he lifted the spoon.

Josiah stood back and watched as the younger man took his first taste of the flavourful beef vegetable soup. He saw a hint of a smile as Vin dipped the spoon again and again. He knew the sharpshooter hadn't been eating properly and was glad when he finished the soup and made quick work of the fresh strawberries.

Vin sipped at the hot coffee and looked gratefully at the older man. "Thanks, Josiah."

Sanchez didn't miss the grimace on the injured man's face as he shifted on the bed. "You're welcome, Son," he said as he reached for the bottle of pills on the nightstand. "Here!"

Vin knew it would do him no good to refuse and reached for the pills. He popped them into his mouth and lifted the glass of water from the tray.

Josiah picked up the empty tray and turned away from the bed. He turned back to the tracker and said softly as he turned out the light. "Try to get some sleep, Son."

The ex-preacher closed the door on the softly muttered 'I will' and placed the tray on the room service cart. The others were at the hospital and he knew they'd call if he was needed. He picked up the dog-eared bible and opened it. He read a few passages and stood up to check on the younger man. He opened the door, smiled at the soft sound of snoring coming from the bed, closed the door and went back to his reading.

Inside the darkened room a darker shadow moved against the wall and a man's silhouette knelt beside the bed. The black duster made no sound as its wearer bent over the still form. A whisper soft hand reached out and touched the long strands of soft hair. 'He's going to need you in the days ahead, Vin. Just stay strong and be there for him. Remember what your ma told you.'

Blue eyes opened and momentarily focused on the familiar, yet unfamiliar man looking at him. "I'm a Tanner," he said as his eyes slipped shut once more.

'Always be proud of that, Pard!' The dark form slowly faded, but the smile on his face sent a warmth into the sleeping form.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Chris felt someone touching his neck and opened his eyes. The medications were keeping him dazed, but at least the pain wasn't as bad when the morphine kicked in. His gaze fell on Joe Mullen and he realized what was about to happen as he spotted the dialysis machine behind him.

"Why?"

Mullen finished connecting the dialysis machine and looked at his patient. "Chris, remember me telling you that we would have to do this for a week or more?"

"Yeah," Larabee tried to twist away, but his wrist were still restrained.

"Well the test results show your BUN, creatinine, and potassium levels are still elevated and we need to repeat the treatment."

"Hate this shit!"

Mullen smiled as the softly uttered words were mumbled through the oxygen mask. "I know you do, Chris, but..."

"It has to be done. Know how sick I am of hearing that?"

"I think I do," Mullen assured him as he turned to the equipment and made sure everything was running properly. Satisfied that it was doing what it was supposed to, he turned back to the injured man. "Everything is working properly and I think you'd rather be talking with your friends than with me."

"Need to rest!"

"Who needs to rest? You or them?"

"They do. Always here...not sleeping."

"They care about you, Chris. You've got some real good friends there..."

"Not friends...family....the best..."

"Yes, I can see that and they think the same thing about you."

"Don't know why...don't deserve..."

"Oh, don't try to tell me you don't deserve it, Chris. Those friends...family of yours are a smart group of men and wouldn't be here if you didn't deserve them. Now you just lie there and I'll send them in."

"No choice, can't do anything, but lie here."

"It's only for a little while, Chris," the nurse said as the doctor left.

Chris looked at the tall, gangly blond and saw the sympathy in her eyes. He tried to recall her name, but it wouldn't come to him.

"Hi, Betsy, is he awake?"

Chris couldn't help but smile at the sound of Wilmington's voice. He turned his gaze on the ladies' man as he stepped up to the bed. "Hello, Buck."

"See you got more accessories, Stud. Don't you realize the ladies like you just the way you are?" Buck leaned close to his friend's ear and whispered. "While you were sleeping Anne came to see how you were doing."

"That's because she works...here," Larabee muttered softly as the nurse checked his vitals.

"This is her day off, Chris!"

"Visiting friends..."

"Then why did she ask me about you and come in here and talk with Melody yesterday?"

"Concerned n...nurse...doing job," Larabee wheezed.

"Concerned about you. I saw how she looked at you, Chris. There's more to it than a concerned nurse caring for her patient. Those brown eyes of hers just lit up when she asked about you yesterday. She's a looker, Chris and if you don't make a move on her I'm going to."

Larabee lifted his head and looked at his hands and feet. "Don't look like I'll be making any moves any time soon," he mumbled tiredly.

"Ah, hell, Chris, those are just temporary. All of this is. You'll be on your feet in no time and that's when you go after her," He raised his voice so the nurse could hear him. "Oh, I can just see it when you get out of that bed, Stud. You're gonna be on crutches or in a wheelchair and no lady can resist a man on crutches. Maybe I'll just give you a few pointers on how to gain their sympathies."

"Don't need their sympathy, Buck," Larabee yawned and closed his eyes. He listened as Buck talked about all the pointers he could give Chris, but soon found he was drifting into a deeper sleep. The soft voice of the nurse joined Wilmington's as Larabee lay contentedly against his pillow.

"How is he really doing, Betsy?"

"He's doing a little better than we expected, Mr. Wilmington. I mean the dialysis is scary..."

"You got that right, and please call me Buck," the ladies' man said as he sank into the chair beside the bed.

"Buck, the doctors are pretty certain he won't need it past this week."

"Wish he didn't need it at all."

"I know you do. He's lucky to have all of you here with him."

"Ain't nowhere else any of us would be with him in here. If Vin hadn't been hurt he'd be sitting in this chair 24 hours a day until the doctors released Chris."

"I think he'd probably have a fight on his hands."

Wilmington glanced up from the form on the bed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he'd have to fight you and the others for the right to be in here. Chris was truly blessed with the six of you."

"Thanks, Betsy, but I think we were all blessed. The seven of us were meant to meet and somehow I think that started over a hundred years ago."

"Would you like to explain that one?" Betsy laughed as she saw the chagrined look on the handsome face.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Her eyebrows rose and she smiled as she answered. "Try me."

"It's a long story," Buck said, "but if you want we could discuss it over dinner when Chris is better."

"I'll hold you to that, Buck," she said as she finished changing the IV bag over Larabee's head.

Part 26

Chris languished in the dream, holding onto the warmth that emanated from the fireplace. He sat on the rug, sipping at the champagne as his wife slid seductively down beside him. Tonight was for them, there would be no lovemaking, just talk and a private renewal of their vow of everlasting love. Chris pulled her close to him and held the glass for her. He laughed as her right hand reached down and tickled the bottom of his right foot. Her soft giggle soothed away the tremble he'd felt building inside of him and he pulled her up tight against his body. He knew this was a dream, and yet it was so real that he could smell the lilac scent he always associated with her. 'Don't go, Sarah...'***

"Don't go, Sarah!"

"It's okay, Chris, you're going to be fine," Jackson soothed as he heard the cry of pain and sorrow.

Chris sobbed as he felt her leave his arms and his eyes fluttered open. 'No!' he screamed in silent rage as he recognized the man standing before him. He struggled against the ropes holding him tight to the beam of the cave, gasping for breath as Robert Maguire lifted the branding iron from the coals.

'Yes, Christopher, you will wear my brand of ownership. I am your natural Lord and Master!'

'Never own me!'

'That's right, Son, he doesn't own you. He never owned either of us!' Larabee said as he stood in front of the bound man.

'Listen to him, Chris. You're the only one who can free yourself from this bastard,' Wilmington hissed savagely and stood beside his long time friend..

'His miserable hands cannot harm you, Mr. Larabee,' Standish said as he joined Larabee and Wilmington in front of the injured man.

'Yea though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I will fear no evil...That's what you are Robert Maguire, EVIL, and as such I don't fear you and neither do my friends.' Sanchez quoted and stepped up beside Wilmington.

'He's not as strong as you are, Chris, we proved that before and we'll prove that again,' Dunne joined the others and stood tall and proud beside his friends.

'Chris Larabee and all his kin are beyond your evil Maguire. We sent yer ancestor ta hell long ago and we've come ta see that ya join 'im. Ya see Destiny brought us tagether in Four Corners long ago and kept us together in order ta defeat yer evil." Vin moved in and took his place in front of the bound man.

Robert Maguire watched as seven men moved in to protect his intended victim. 'You can't take what is mine!'

'That's where you're wrong, Maguire. You see we were never your destiny, but you were part of ours. We were meant to defeat you long ago and to continue doing so until the last of you are dead. You have no sons, no one to carry on with your evil. It ends here! It ends now! Join that bastard of an ancestor of yours in hell!' Chris Larabee hissed as he drew his white handled colt revolver.

Chris watched transfixed as the seven men from his past pulled their weapons and pointed them at Robert Maguire. He heard the distinct sound of six gunshots and watched as a knife flew from Nathan Jackson's hands. His body trembled as he watched his captor shimmer and fade before his eyes.

'You're safe now, Son. It may take some time for you to heal, but you will. When the nightmares come back we'll be there, but I don't think they will.'

His eyes filled with tears as the seven shadows shimmered before his eyes and he whispered softly. 'Thank you, Grandfather..'***

"Thank you, Grandfather!"

"Hey, Chris, you okay?" Dunne asked when he saw the green eyes open and tears slide free.

Larabee smiled at the young kid, so much like his ancestor and spoke softly. "Yeah, Kid, I think I'm gonna be just fine. We all are!"

"Ya saw 'em again, didn't ya?"

"Yeah, JD, I did. Got rid of that other bastard once and for all. I'm not gonna dream about him any more."

"Glad to hear that, Cowboy," Tanner said as he slipped into the room.

JD stood up and turned the chair over to the sharpshooter.

"The others are waiting for you so they can go eat, Kid."

"You sure you're okay here?"

"I'm fine, JD. Go, before they leave without you." He waited until JD was out of the room and Betsy was busy with the IVs and dialysis machine. "You sure you're okay, Chris?"

"I'm fine, Vin. I really am," Larabee closed his eyes and envisioned the seven men standing in front of him, protecting him from the madman and his branding iron. Vin Tanner, Nathan Jackson, JD Dunne, Chris Larabee, Buck Wilmington, Ezra Standish, and Josiah Sanchez, standing tall, as tall as the six men he now called family. "Yep, everything's gonna be just fine, Vin. I've got my family here with me just as he had his with him."

"Your great, great grandfather?"

"Yeah," Larabee shifted as far as the restraints would allow and smiled at the younger man. "How did you know?"

"Been dreaming about them myself. I think we all have. That's how you knew where the Ace of Spades went isn't it?"

"Yeah," Larabee yawned tiredly and closed his eyes. "How's the shoulder?"

"Better."

"Good. Headaches?"

"Still get 'em, but not so bad now."

"Nathan making you take pain pills?"

"Yeah, wish he'd stop."

"Be glad we don't have to take what his ancestor forced on ours."

"Horse..."

"Piss," Larabee finished and the two men broke into laughter. A sound they hadn't made since the day Vin had been shot and Chris kidnapped. Both men felt a weight lift from their shoulders and the nurse looked at them strangely.

Betsy listened to the two men talk quietly and knew when Larabee began to tire. She checked the IV and dialysis machine and knew it would soon be time to unhook her patient from it. She moved about the room, trying to make herself unobtrusive in order to leave the men some semblance of privacy. She listened as they talked about the strange things that happened to them from the beginning of their vacation and knew her date with Wilmington would be a strange one. She looked towards the two men and watched as the younger one used his good hand to reach over the railing. She didn't know how they managed it, but they clasped arms in one of the strangest symbols of friendship she'd ever seen and she knew there was something special about their relationship. She could see it in both sets of eyes. There was more of a sense of family between them than friendship and she wondered if that's how they felt. She listened as the soft Texas drawl told the injured man to sleep and that he had his back. Again there was a feeling of brotherhood, and she felt like an intruder as she witnessed the emotional exchange.

"You rest easy, Cowboy, I'm gonna be right here."

"You need to rest, Vin!"

"Hell, Chris, that's all Nathan and the others will let me do. Just wait until they let you out of here! You're gonna wish they'd kept ya in here. Even JD's gettin' to be downright bossy!"

"The kid?"

"That kid can blackmail with the best of 'em, Chris. You'd best be warned that these guys are in full mother hen mode and I only got a broken wing. Hell, when they get their hands on you Mother hen will have a whole new meaning!"

"Any way we can head 'em off before I get out of here?"

"I doubt it. I've been puttin' up with them, and you'll have to, when you get outta here."

"Damn!" Larabee swore, as he tried to get comfortable. The pain was quickly becoming apparent again as he lay heavily against the pillows. Truth was, at least right now, he didn't mind the idea of the others hovering around him. The memory of his dream of the seven protectors reminded him just how much their friendship meant. Between them they could and would defeat anyone and anything. He sighed as he felt the morphine enter his system and knew it would soon take care of the growing pain in his body.

Vin didn't miss the grimace that Larabee tried to conceal and he knew the blond was in pain. The sound of the morphine infusion pump kicking in was welcome to his ears and he knew the other man would soon be drifting off to sleep. He smiled as his friend fought against his own body and tried to stay awake.

"Go to sleep, Chris. I got your back!"

Larabee smiled as for an instant he heard those words echoed by another raspier voice and knew the ghosts of the past were still around and probably always would be. "Always have," he mumbled as his eyes slid closed.

+ + + + + + +

Her four day rotation was over and Anne Sheridan was never so glad to be back at her work. There was no more doubt that she was harboring feelings for this man, but she vowed not to do anything until Larabee was no longer under her care. Until that time she would be the perfect professional and do whatever she could to ensure his recovery. She walked into the room to find a lab technician taking blood from the A-line in Larabee's wrist.

"Good morning, Chris," she greeted with a smile as she noted the lack of restraints and NG tube. When she'd visited him two days before they'd replaced them and explained that he'd suffered more flashbacks. She hoped and prayed the restraints were gone for good, yet she knew they could be needed again. LSD was an unpredictable drug and they had no idea how often or in what dosage Larabee was fed the mind-altering substance.

Chris felt the lab tech taking blood and opened his eyes as a familiar voice sounded next to the bed. He couldn't help smiling at the auburn haired woman beside him. "Hi, Anne," he rasped as the tech finished up and left the room.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better, not great, but definitely better."

"That's great, Chris. Now why don't I check and make sure everything's running correctly and we'll see about making you presentable for your friends to visit."

"I look that bad do I?" He watched as a blush came to her cheeks and realized that was not at all what she meant.

"N...no. You look just fine...'

"Sure I do," he laughed and was glad when she joined him.

"They've decided you're ready to start eating..."

"Ah, hell!"

Auburn eyebrows rose as she heard his soft expletive. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not for Jell-O and broth."

Anne laughed at the look of distaste on the battered face. "I can't say that I blame you there, but they won't give you anything solid until they know your stomach can handle soft foods."

"Yeah, but Jell-O as a meal? Nothing can make my stomach handle that."

"Hopefully it'll only be another day or so. Has Dr. Barrett been in this morning?"

"Not yet. Dr. Mullen and he are supposed to come in and tell me whether or not I need more dialysis."

She heard the pain in his voice and knew how tired he was of everything he was going through. "It won't be much longer, Chris," she assured him. The test results would probably show that he needed at least one more treatment as she'd seen the results of the last ones.

"I hope you're right, Anne, cause I'm getting mighty tired of lying here."

"Chris, you won't be up and around for some time yet. That broken hip needs time to mend as do the ribs, the shoulder and all the other bruises and lacerations. That's not gonna happen until you get some strength back and I'm afraid that does mean the Jell-o and broth."

"You sound like Nathan," Larabee said with a grin.

"I don't know him very well, but Nathan does seem to understand all of you." As she talked she grabbed a basin and filled it with warm soapy water and a cloth. She walked back to the bed to see a pair of wonderful deep, sea green pools looking at her. "Now why don't we just give you a wash."

"I can do it," Chris told her, feeling the heat return to his cheeks as he thought of the last bath.

"It's okay, Chris, we'll just do your face and arms today. I don't want you moving around too much."

"O...kay," he wheezed and knew it would soon be time for the medications to ease his breathing. By the time Anne finished washing his face and exposed arm and chest, Barrett and Mullen came into the room.

"Good morning, Chris, how are you feeling?" Barrett asked.

"Better, doc."

"You know I believe you are feeling better," the doctor agreed.

"You do look a little better, Chris," Mullen told him.

"So no more dialysis?"

"I never said that, Chris," Mullen said seriously. "The test results are not as good as I want them to be and we do need to continue with the dialysis..."

"Doc..."

"I'm sorry, Chris, I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but we need to make sure your kidneys are strong enough to do what they're supposed to do."

"Shit!" the expletive showed just how much the news affected the injured man. He knew as long as his kidneys were still causing problems he wouldn't get out of ICU. He let his head drop back to the pillow and closed his eyes so the others wouldn't see the disappointment he knew was there.

"Chris, I need to take a look at you..."

"Later," Larabee hissed in frustration.

"Chris..."

"Doc, just give me some time alone!" the injured man snapped.

Anne noted the quick change in her patient's mood and looked at Barrett. She knew he was worried about PTSD and this was the first real sign Chris Larabee was suffering from just that. She knew they'd have to watch for other signs and vowed she'd keep alert for anything. She also knew that he'd already talked to Dr. Lee Carlyle, a man well known in the psychiatric field and head of that department at Washoe Medical.

"I can't do that, Chris. I need to make sure the infection in your wounds is clearing up. It won't take long, and we'll leave you alone for a little while."

The patient knew they'd do what they wanted no matter how much he protested. He kept his eyes closed as they shifted him onto his back and slowly examined his injuries. He lost track of how many time a hand touched against him and made him gasp as pain spread throughout his body.

"Just relax, Chris, we're almost done," Barrett explained as he checked the tube running into Larabee's chest.

"Shit!" the blond wheezed as he tried unsuccessfully to control his breathing. He clenched his eyes tight as the first of many tortured coughs erupted from his throat. Over and over until it felt as if his chest was being torn apart. The mask was quickly replaced and he knew the bronchodilators were being delivered to his constricted lungs. In spite of the pain it caused he sucked the medication deep into his lungs and felt a lessening of the band pressing across his chest. By the time the medication completed its job, his eyes were filled with tears and the excess moisture ran down his cheeks. He knew the others could see his weakness and he kept his eyes closed.

"Better, Chris?" Anne asked softly.

"Yeah...tha...nks," was the answer that slipped from the sick man's mouth.

"Get some sleep, Chris. Your friends can come back later," Barrett told him.

Larabee's eyes opened and he shook his head. Chris knew he was doing exactly the opposite of what he wanted earlier, but right now the thought of being alone sent chills down his spine. "No...I'm o...kay. Let them co...come in," he rasped.

"Are you sure?" Mullen asked.

"Yeah."

"All right." Barrett agreed and turned to the nurse. "Anne, make sure he doesn't overdo things."

"I will, Doctor."

"Chris, we'll know by tomorrow morning if you need to undergo more dialysis," Mullen explained before leaving the room.

"It looks like your breakfast is here, Chris. Eat what you can and let Anne know if anything upsets your stomach."

"Hmm," Larabee said as the head of his bed rose slightly. He bit back a moan as muscles pulled in his lower back, but it eased as soon as Anne stopped the upward movement.

"Hey, Stud."

Larabee forced one eye open and spotted Wilmington and Standish coming into the room. "Hi, Buck, Ez. How's Vin?"

"He's better this morning, Chris, but he was sleeping when we left so JD, Nathan and Josiah are staying at the hotel until he wakes up," the ladies' man explained.

"Needs to sleep," Larabee told him.

"Yeah, he does," the rogue answered.

"Looks like you get to eat today."

"Eat?" Larabee asked

"Okay, so drink might be a better description, but at least the Jell-O's not green," he said as he lifted the cover off the tray.

"It's not?" Larabee and Standish asked in shocked voices.

"Nope, looks like it's red..."

"Probably still tastes the same," the blond insisted.

"Indubitably, Mr. Larabee," Standish kept a stern look on his face as he watched the blond's face.

"Oh, Hell! Sherlock Holmes festival is on again isn't it?"

"You got that right, Chris. He made me watch the damn Hounds of the Baketcases last night."

"Leave it to you to barbarize a wonderful classic. It was The Hounds Of The Baskevilles, Mr. Larabee, not basketcases, although sometimes I believe Mr. Wilmington is a bit of a basketcase."

"Takes one to know one, Ezra," Wilmington smiled and winked at the conman as they listened to Larabee's soft laughter at their banter.

"You two never quit," Larabee observed as the two men continued to glare at each other. He knew it was something they'd probably rehearsed in order to make him laugh and it worked. Wilmington and Standish didn't always see eye to eye, but they were part of the family and would do anything for each other.

"Never!" the rogue stated as he lifted a spoon and dipped it into the watery broth. "Now, Chris are you ready to taste this wonderful, wet, whatever it is?"

"Not really," Larabee answered as Anne took the mask off his face and he accepted the offering. He finished the broth and most of the Jell-O before turning away. "Thanks, Buck, Ezra."

"You're welcome, Mr. Larabee. Now why don't we make you comfortable and let you sleep?" Standish asked.

"Yeah, Chris, you're looking kind've tired."

"Hmm, hmm, you guys don't have to stay. Anne can take care of me," Larabee said and felt someone's breath next to his left ear.

"I bet she can, Stud!" Wilmington whispered and heard the soft chuckle from his long time friend.

Larabee opened his eyes and looked at the gambler. "Ez, get him out of here!" he pleaded.

"I shall endeavor to do so directly, Mr. Larabee. After you, Mr. Wilmington," Standish bowed slightly to the door and laughed as Wilmington winked at the petite nurse.

Anne stood beside the bed and smiled at the injured man. "Are all your friends so easy going?" she asked.

"Most of the time," Larabee said. "It helps in our line of work."

"Somehow I don't think you guys are clowns. So what is it about your line of work that makes being easy going a plus?"

"Let's just say sometimes we get into dangerous situations and..."

"And this is not the first time you've been in the hospital."

"Try a dozen or more."

"My goodness, you do live dangerously. What about the others?"

"They've all been in the hospital at some point in time, but it's usually me or Vin ends up in the hospital. Don't understand why...maybe we're just careless or..."

"Something tells me there's nothing careless about you or any of your friends, Chris. I'd say you've just been very unlucky."

Larabee yawned tiredly as the nurse placed the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose once more. "Not with my choice of friends...luckiest sonofabitch ever born when I met them."

Anne saw that he'd finally given into his body's need for sleep and she whispered softly. "They're lucky too, Chris, very lucky."

Part 27

Vin stood in the door and watched the nurse as she cared for his friend. There was something about the way she touched him, or looked at him when she thought no one was around. He'd seen the same look in Larabee's eyes when he looked at her. He understood it could be just that Chris was grateful for the extra care she gave him, but somehow he didn't think that was it. Something told him that these two were harboring mutual feelings for each other and he hoped they'd act on them once Chris was out of ICU. The thought of Chris finding someone to care for made him smile. He stepped into the room and said hello to the nurse as he sat down beside the bed.

Vin watched his sleeping friend, his eyes raking over the fading bruises, now blended in the colors of the sunset, instead of the deep purple and blacks that showed through earlier. He shook his head at the red welts that stood out under some of the bandages and winced at the tube still in Larabee's chest. He knew from personal experience how much it hurt to cough with tubes running into your body. A soft sigh from the bed brought him out of his thoughts, but Larabee showed no other signs of waking up.

"Vin?"

"Hi, Josiah," the sharpshooter said as the gambler joined him.

"How is Chris doing?"

"He's been sleeping since I got here. How has he been today, Anne?"

"Actually, he's had a pretty good day in spite of the way it started out?"

"What do you mean?" the tracker asked worriedly.

"Dr. Mullen told him he wanted to continue the dialysis..."

"Dammit!"

"Easy, Brother," Sanchez said as he placed a steadying hand on the younger man's shoulder. "How long?" he asked the nurse.

"He's due for dialysis tomorrow morning and then we'll need to do more tests to determine if he needs to continue the treatments."

Sanchez touched the blond's uninjured shoulder and spoke softly. "You'll make it through this, Son," he whispered.

Chris felt the touch of a calloused hand and knew instinctively who it belonged to. Josiah had always worked with his hands, building and repairing things. He remembered thinking the ex-preacher's hands showed how much work he did in the Lord's name. He turned into the touch, gaining strength from the show of friendship.

"Looks like he's waking up." Tanner smiled as he watched the eyes flutter and slowly open. "Hey, Cowboy!"

"Hey yourself, Cowboy," Larabee smiled thinly as he felt the hand removed from his shoulder. "You look better."

"Thanks, I think!"

"You're looking better as well, Son."

"Thanks, Josiah. I do feel better."

"That's good news, Chris. Won't be long before you're out of here."

"I sure as help hope so. I'm kind've tired of these four walls." He looked at the nurse as she changed the bag of antibiotics over his head. 'Although I don't mind the company,'he thought and smiled as he realized how true that was. "Where are the others?"

"Back at the hotel. Orrin called to get an update on you and Vin."

"Is everything okay back home?" Tanner asked.

"Yeah. Orrin's put everything on hold right now. There was nothing pressing in the first place."

"Did he check the ranches?" Larabee asked.

Sanchez tilted his head back and laughed.

"What's funny about that, Josiah?" Vin asked.

"Well, Orrin said to tell you both the next time he has to check on the horses he'd appreciate a warning about being nipped in the butt!"

"He didn't!" Tanner exclaimed.

"I'm afraid he did and he said you both owe him for the 'comfort seat' he had to buy."

"Pony or Peso?" Larabee asked, his eyes twinkling with laughter.

"Pony. Orrin said they were in the corral and Jake was looking after Peso. Orrin said he bent down and didn't know anything until Pony took a nip at him. Oh, he also said you owe him a new pair of pants."

"He's lucky it wasn't Peso or he'd need more than a 'comfort seat'!" the tracker exclaimed. He looked towards the door as an orderly brought in a tray and placed it on the table. "Looks like lunch is here." He lifted the cover from the tray and wheeled the table closer to the bed. "Hey, ya got orange Jell-O this time."

"And broth?"

"Yep, that's what it looks like," the tracker said as the nurse eased the head of the bed up slightly.

Chris gritted his teeth as the bed was raised and waited for the feeling of nausea to recede. He looked disinterestedly at what consisted of his lunch and closed his eyes with a tired sigh.

"Now, Son, it's not that bad and once you've shown you can handle this stuff maybe they'll give you something that'll put meat on your bones," Sanchez said.

"Later!"

"Now!" Tanner said, recognizing instantly the change in his best friend's mood. "Come on or do we have to go the choo choo route?"

"Vin!"

"Here comes the..."

"Josiah, get my damn gun!"

"It's pulling into the station..."

"Go away, Tanner!"

"It's gonna hit the closed gates and..."

Chris couldn't help but laugh at the tracker's antics and finally had to open his mouth. He saw the relieved smile on Josiah and Anne's face as he laughed outright. There was something about the blue eyed man sitting beside the bed. Vin Tanner could make him smile no matter how bad he felt. Their friendship went beyond the normal bonds and more often than not they used it to save each other's lives. He took the spoon from the sharpshooter's hand and finished the meal in silence. He felt the others watching him and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry for being an ass..."

"An ass? Josiah, do you see an ass in here?"

"Not me, Vin. I see a man who's ready for a nap though," Sanchez said as Larabee yawned.

"Oh God, first the choo choo, now the dreaded nap," the blond laughed as he looked at his friends. "I think you're both right though so get out of here so I can sleep without wondering what you boys are up to!"

"Alright, Chris, it's time Vin had his nap as well."

"Ain't no kid, Josiah!"

"Me either, Vin, but neither one of us seems to have a choice."

"Ah hell," Tanner hissed as he stood up. "Alright, Chris, you get some rest. Okay?"

"You too, Cowboy," Larabee said. He nodded to the ex-preacher as he led Tanner from the room.

Chris closed his eyes and fought against his churning stomach. He didn't want Vin and Josiah to know just how badly he felt and was glad when they left. He knew if he continued to get sick the NG tube would be put back in. He reached up to take the oxygen mask off his face as his nausea grew.

"Hold on, Chris!" Anne warned as she grabbed the basin and quickly removed the mask. She held him on his left side as he lost what little he had in his stomach. Dry heaves followed and Anne felt the shudders running through his body.

Chris was grateful for the hands that held him and finally felt the nausea subside. "Sorry," he gasped as she eased him back to the bed.

"No need to apologize, Chris. I guess your stomach just wasn't ready yet."

"Didn't get s...sick earlier," he wheezed as he wrapped his left arm across his aching chest.

"I know, Chris. How's the nausea now?"

"Still there."

"I'm going to give you a shot of Zofran. Dr. Barrett ordered it in case you were nauseas. Just try to relax. Okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired of being like this."

"I know you are, Chris!"

Larabee turned to see Vin Tanner standing beside him. "Thought you and Josiah were going back to the hotel."

"We were, but something told me you needed..."

"It's okay, Vin, just got a little stomach sick."

"A little, Pard?" Vin asked as he watched the nurse place a syringe in one of the IV junctures and deliver the medication Barrett ordered.

"Let me know if that doesn't help, Chris," Anne ordered.

"Okay," Larabee answered as he felt the oxygen mask being replaced. "I'm okay now, Vin. You and Josiah might as well..."

"Nah, think I'll stick around a little longer and watch your back."

"More like watch me sleep, Vin. I really am okay now," Larabee insisted as the morphine and exhaustion pulled him into the waiting arms of sleep.

"You might as well do as he says, Vin. He'll probably sleep the rest of the day."

"Why did he get sick this time, Anne? Buck and Ezra said he was fine earlier."

"I don't know, Vin. It could be everything he's been through has finally caught up with him."

"Will it happen again?"

"It might, but we won't know until we get him to try again," she smiled at the worried young man. "You might have to use that choo choo routine again!" She was rewarded by a thin smile on the handsome face. "Go home, Vin, he'll need you more when he's awake. Besides you look like you're ready to drop."

"You heard her, Vin." Sanchez had entered the room at the same time Tanner did, but he'd stayed back while the two men talked. Now he was ready to make the younger man get the rest he needed whether he wanted to or not.

"You'll call?"

"I'll call, Vin, but as I said he should sleep most of the afternoon."

Vin rubbed at the annoying ache in his skull and knew if he didn't lie down it would manifest itself in a full blown headache before long. He placed a hand on Larabee's shoulder and whispered softly. "I'll be back, Cowboy. You just make sure you're here when I do!" He pushed away from the bed and felt the ex-preacher's hand on his arm as he swayed.

"Are you all right, Son?"

"Yeah, thanks!"

"Headache?"

"Just a little one right now."

"Well, let's get you back home before it gets any worse."

"Someone should be here with him..."

"Someone will be. Nathan and JD just got here. Now let's get you back to the hotel and into bed." He led the sharpshooter out of the room and nodded to Jackson and Dunne.

"Vin, are you okay?" Dunne asked as he spotted the pale, trembling form.

"I'm fine, Kid," Tanner answered automatically.

"He's got one of those headaches," Sanchez told them.

"Make sure he takes his pills!"

"I will, Nathan," the ex-preacher assured the medic as he led the younger man towards the elevator.

Vin knew Chris Larabee was in good hands, yet he wanted more than anything to stay with his friend. He remembered the tingling feeling he'd felt earlier when he and Josiah stepped off the elevator on the ground floor. Instinct told him that all was not well with Chris and he'd raced back into the elevator without a word. Sanchez never said anything even as he pushed the button. He knew he'd been right to return, and he also realized it was right to turn Chris over to the other members of their unique family. There was no one he'd rather entrust that friendship to.

"He's gonna be okay, Vin!"

"I know, Josiah, but I hate seeing him like that."

"We all do, Vin." The older man pushed the button for the elevator, smiling as he saw a fluttery shadow inside the ICU room. 'All thirteen of us,' he thought.

Part 28

Betsy stood in the doorway and admired the man seated beside her patient's bed. She hated what she had to do now, but it needed to be done and she'd come in an hour before her shift began in order to explain her problem to him. She'd made a date with Buck Wilmington in the heat of the moment and realized it went against everything she'd learned about her profession. She was a nurse, a very good one, yet she'd agreed to have dinner with this man because of her own interest into strange occurrences and what she overheard, intrigued her. But she knew it was wrong to get involved with a patient and his family or friends, and it seemed to her the six men who visited Chris Larabee were both. Taking a deep breath she entered the room and smiled at the man seated beside the bed.

"Hi, Buck," she said softly.

"Hi, Darlin'. I was hoping to see you tonight. What time..."

"Buck, I need to speak with you about the plans we made."

"Uhoh, that don't sound good," Wilmington stated. He looked at the sleeping man in the bed and looked at Anne. "Come get me if he wakes up."

"I will, Buck," she assured him.

Buck followed Betsy into the empty waiting room and sat down. "What's going on, Betsy?" he asked.

"Buck, I made a grave error in judgement..."

"It can't be that bad..."

"Yes it is, Buck. I made a date with you without thinking of the consequences."

"Consequences?"

"That's right. You see I've been a nurse for a long time and one of the first things we learn is not to get personally involved with a patient..."

"I'm not a patient..."

"Please, let me finish, Buck. Chris is one of my patients and you're his family..."

"Yeah, we are."

"That makes it impossible for me to go out with you. In my profession we need to be objective in the care of our patients and that includes not giving in to our own weaknesses. I think you're a very handsome man and I would love to see you at some later date, but right now Chris needs all of you." She placed her fingers on his lips when he tried to protest. "Please, Buck, tell me you understand."

"I do, Betsy. Maybe when Chris is out of here we can get together and I can tell you everything that happened."

"That would be fine, Buck, but not until Chris is truly well and on his feet again. I like you Buck Wilmington, but I love my job and I'm damned good at it..."

"I bet you are," the ladies' man said.

"Thank you for understanding."

"What's to understand, Betsy. To tell you the truth I admire your integrity and knowing Chris has someone like you caring for him makes it easier to see him in there." He could see her eyes fill with moisture and reached for the box of tissues. "You're a beautiful woman, Betsy, and an even more beautiful nurse."

Betsy took the tissues and dabbed at her eyes as she stood up. "I guess I'd better get ready to start my shift. Thanks, Buck, I needed to know that you understood."

Buck held the door for her and walked back towards Chris' room. He stepped inside and was pleased to see Chris awake. "Hey, Pard, how're you doing?"

"Sore, Buck," Larabee answered honestly.

"Yeah, I bet you are, ol' son. How's the stomach?"

"It's okay."

"Want something to drink?"

"Yeah."

"Chris, just a few sips at a time, okay?" Anne warned as Buck passed him the glass.

"Okay," Chris agreed as the oxygen mask was lifted. "Can I leave that thing off for a while?"

"I think that'll be fine for a while," Anne told him. "Betsy will be here shortly and you make sure you tell her if you need anything."

"I will." Chris sipped at the water, hoping to keep it down this time. His dinner had ended up in the same place his lunch had, but the water tended to stay down if he took it slow.

"Hi, Anne!"

"Hi, Betsy."

"How are you doing today, Chris."

"Better."

"You do look better."

"Betsy, I'll see you tomorrow. Chris take it easy and get some sleep. Buck..."

"I'll make sure he behaves, Anne," Wilmington assured her.

"And who's gonna make sure you do, Buck?" Chris asked softly, a cocky grin on his face.

Wilmington was glad to see a hint of the old Chris Larabee and he smiled mischievously at his friend. "Oh, I think Betsy could do a great job of that."

Betsy saw the wink and knew the man was teasing her. She understood this was part of his nature, he'd seen it from the minute she'd laid eyes on him. "Well, Buck, if you don't behave I can always have security escort you out."

"Ah, Betsy, now you wouldn't do that to a fun..."

"Try me!" Betsy said and winked at the ladies man, glad that she could still joke with him in spite of their earlier talk. Buck Wilmington had just gained her respect by letting her see that he really wasn't hurt by her cancelling their hastily made date.

"You'd better behave, Buck," Larabee warned as he saw the woman's hands move to her hips. "Sarah used to do that when she was upset..." His voice trailed off and he swallowed the lump in his throat. It wasn't that the memory upset him, but the image of his wife suddenly was superimposed over the nurse. He could've sworn he saw Sarah's eyes twinkling with undisguised mischief.

Wilmington placed a hand on Larabee's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Y...yeah. Just remembered Sarah always doing that."

"Yeah, she could be intimidating couldn't she?" He nodded to the worried nurse and let her know that everything was okay. "I remember the night you were sick..."

"And you wouldn't leave," Larabee smiled as he knew instantly what night his friend was talking about. "She sure as hell showed you who was in charge."

Buck rubbed his shoulder and smiled at the memory. "Yeah, that woman of yours sure walloped a punch."

"Tell me a...about it," the injured man passed Wilmington back the glass as he felt sleep calling to him once more. "He yawned and shifted slightly until he found a comfortable spot. "Sorry," he apologized tiredly.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Chris. Go ahead and sleep."

"Going too. Go home, Buck. Make sure the others don't over peck at Vin."

"Over peck?"

"Yeah, said the others were being mother hens."

"That they are, Chris, and right now we've just got the one chick at home. Wait until you're out of here and under..."

"Don't," he was interrupted by another yawn before he could finish. "Remind me, Buck. Go on and get. Make sure Vin gets some rest."

"Who's being a mother hen now, Pard?" Buck asked with a grin and was grateful to see the smile on his friend's face again. "Betsy, make sure they call us if anything happens. Josiah should be here in about an hour or so."

"He don't need to, Buck. I'm really okay."

"Thought you were asleep."

"Not quite. Look, you guys really do need to take a break. Tell Josiah someone will call if you guys are needed."

"Chris..."

"Goodnight, Buck."

"All right, stud, but don't be surprised if Josiah comes in anyway"

"Nothing about you boys surprises me anymore." Larabee assured him. "Now get out of here before I tell Betsy to call security."

"See you in the morning, Chris."

"Hmm, hmm," the blond mumbled.

"Goodnight, Betsy."

"Goodnight, Buck, and thank you." She saw him nod as he left the room and wondered what life with Buck Wilmington would be like. She had little doubt that it would be a wonderful roller coaster of a ride, but right now he was beyond her reach. She looked back at her patient. The tubes, the IVs, the monitors, the fading bruises, the bandages, and the tired eyes and knew her job was something she wasn't ready to give up, no matter how good looking the temptation was. 'Seeing you get out of here is one of the best rewards of this job,' she thought as she replaced the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.

+ + + + + + +

"Chris."

"Hmm," Larabee mumbled at the familiar voice intruding on his sleep drenched mind.

"Come on, Cowboy, it's time to wake up."

"Tired."

"I know you are, but the doctors are here."

"Tell 'em to come back later!"

"We can't do that, Chris," Barrett couldn't help but smile as the green eyes finally opened and focused on the second injured man.

"Vin, what're you doing here?"

"Came to see how you were doing. Josiah's in the waiting room."

"Did Buck tell him to stay home last night?"

"Yeah, but do you really think we'd leave you here alone all night. I ain't puttin' up with those mother hens on my own ya know?"

"Right now they're all yours."

"Chris." Larabee turned towards Barrett. "We need to discuss a few things."

"Ah, hell," Larabee winced as he spotted the dialysis machine just outside the door.

"The numbers are still not as good as we want, Chris," Mullen explained.

"Shit! What if I just said no?"

"Chris!"

"It's just a question, Vin," the tired blond hissed.

"You need this right now, Chris," Mullen answered. "If you leave things as they are your kidneys will just deteriorate..."

"Like the rest of me!" Larabee realized his voice held a hint of childishness and he clenched his hands in frustration. "Shit, Doc, I'm sorry. It's just..."

"We understand, Chris. It's frustrating being in here and having to wait for someone to tend to you," Barrett explained. "Having us tell you what you need and that it's for your own good. Believe me I understand..."

"Sounds like you've been there..."

"Done that!" Barrett finished for him.

"Maybe we could talk about it sometime?"

"I'd like that, Chris, but right now we have to..."

"Hook that damned thing up."

"I'm afraid so," Mullen told him. "Mr. Tanner, if you'll excuse us for a few minutes."

"I'll be back as soon as they finish up, Chris."

Chris drew in a shallow breath and nodded slightly. 'Thanks, Vin.'

'Anytime, Cowboy!' Neither man said the words, but both felt their unspoken impact.

Chris closed his eyes and listened as the doctors hooked him up to the dialysis machine. He felt the hands at the lines in his neck and waited for them to finish.

"All done, Chris," Barrett said and waited for his patient to open his eyes. "Hopefully you won't need many more of these."

"I hope so too, Doc."

"Now how's the eating going?"

"O...kay, I guess."

"You guess?" Barrett asked.

"Well, I mean eating is going okay, it's keeping it down that's the problem."

"Does the Zofran help?"

"Sometimes. It's just when I throw up it feels like my chest is on fire."

"The ribs?"

"The ribs, the damn tube. Just about everything," he coughed and was forced to sink back against his pillow as it grew more intense.

"Take it easy, Chris. Anne's getting your medications ready," Barrett grabbed for the basin and lifted the mask as Larabee lost what little was in his stomach.

"Dammit!" the injured man swore as he was eased back on the pillows.

"Chris, I think we're gonna need to put the NG tube back in at least until everything settles down."

"Hell, Doc," the blond swore as Anne placed the mask and medication over his face.

"There doesn't seem to be much choice, Chris. You haven't been able to keep anything down and..."

"When?"

"As soon as you're done that mask," Barrett answered. "Anne can you get things ready?"

"Right away, Doctor Barrett."

"Derrick, I have a meeting in ten minutes. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will, Joe, thanks."

"Chris, take care."

"Thanks, Doc."

Part 29

Vin paced in front of the ICU room, his stride purposeful, his eyes determined. Barrett had come to see him and Josiah and explained about the NG tube being put back until Chris' stomach settled down. His anger at Maguire was something he'd kept buried, but the thought of his friend's continued suffering brought it to the surface again. He rubbed at his throbbing head, yet knew this headache had nothing to do with his concussion, but more from tension, anger, and frustration. He knew he had to get his emotions under control before he went back in with Chris. 'God damn you, Maguire!' he hissed as he clenched his fists by his side. He looked towards the room as the door opened and Derrick Barrett came out.

"How is he?"

"Frustrated and hurting."

"Can I see him?"

"Mr. Tanner, I think Chris needs your visits more than ever. The longer he's here the more frustrated and angry he's going to become. You and his other friends are gonna play an integral role in his recovery. You gentlemen will get him to the turning point and get him past all of this. Right now he feels as if he'll be here forever, but things are slowly getting better. He just needs to be patient..."

Vin's eyebrows rose and he laughed. "Patient? Chris Larabee? That ain't gonna happen, Doc."

"That's what I thought, so I'd like you guys to keep him from becoming depressed. Chris is gonna need to talk to someone from the psychiatric department soon. He is showing signs of PTSD and I'd like to see if we can head it off before it becomes full blown. I've already put in a call to them and Dr. Carlyle has agreed to see him as soon as possible."

"Chris hates talking to psychiatrists."

"I understand that, but he really needs to talk about what he went through."

"Yeah, I know he does."

"Talk to him, Mr. Tanner, but don't force things."

"I won't. Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome, I just wish I had better news. I'll check back on him later today, and Mr. Tanner."

"Yeah?"

"Don't overdo things. You're not all that well yourself."

"I'm okay, Doc." The tracker smiled as he realized how much he and Chris Larabee were alike. He walked towards the open door and entered the room. He looked at the bed and knew his friend was sleeping. The sight of the NG tube back in place sent a surge of anger through him. He felt Anne watching him as he eased into the chair beside the bed. He sat back and waited for Chris to wake up, knowing his friend needed to know they were there for him.

Chris opened his eyes slowly and frowned as he looked up at the stark white ceiling. He knew he should recognize this place, but wasn't sure he really wanted to. A soft sound from beside him caught his attention and he turned his throbbing head slowly. A familiar lean body sat in a chair beside his bed and he smiled in spite of his confusion. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and waited for the cobwebs to clear. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked to his left. He smiled at the pretty nurse standing there, but had to fight to get it from his sleep befuddled mind. He turned away as the name of the man beside his bed finally came to him and with it all the other memories. Including the reason he was in the hospital in the first place. A soft hiss crossed his lips as he fought to keep his emotions in check and he wasn't surprised when sky blue eyes opened instantly and the lean body shifted towards him.

"Easy there, Cowboy."

"V...Vin," his eyes darted around as if he was searching for the source of the fear creeping into his mind. "Maguire...he's..."

"Dead, Chris, we sent that son of a bitch straight to hell where he belonged."

"Dead? Are you sure? Sometimes I swear I can h...hear him...hear him t...telling me he's my lord and m...master..."

"He ain't, Chris, never was and never will be."

"I know...but it's hard sometimes...I wake up and wonder where I am and that's when I hear him...can't stop him, but I know our ancestors helped take care of the worst of the nightmares. I just can't seem to get rid of him when I'm awake. I keep thinking of what he wanted to do and...and I wonder if he really did win and that he is my..."

"He ain't, Cowboy. You're still Chris Larabee and there's no one I'd rather have as an equal. Nobody controls you. Nobody owns you. Nobody can take anything from you unless you let them. You're a..."

"Larabee, yeah that's what he said too."

Vin knew he wasn't talking about Maguire and smiled as he realized the ghosts from the past were still around and protecting all of them. He knew they'd always be there and he smiled inwardly at the warmth that thought gave him.

"Are you gonna let Maguire take that from you?"

"No! My ancestor didn't and I damn well won't either."

"Damn straight he didn't, Pard."

"He had a lot of help from six members of his family..."

"You do too and we're gonna stand by you for as long as it takes."

"Long haul?"

"Yep, and you'll probably be cussin' and fightin' us the whole time."

"If I didn't you'd think there was something wrong," Larabee said with a grin.

"Ya got that right."

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but can I come in?"

"Hello, Dr. Carlyle."

"Hello, Anne."

Vin recognized the name and looked down at his friend as the man entered the room. He saw the stony look come into the sea green eyes and knew Larabee was not pleased to see this man.

The newcomer was dressed in black slacks and a white turtleneck sweater. His brown hair was streaked with gray, a thin goatee and moustache was also peppered with silver. The eyes were a light soft shade of brown and Vin knew instinctively this man was trustworthy, he hoped Larabee would be able to see that too.

"Mr. Larabee, my name is Lee Carlyle. Dr. Barrett asked me to speak with you."

"Yeah, he mentioned something about you coming by. Psych department, right?"

Carlyle caught the hint of aggression in the softly spoken words and knew he was in for a fight. He had nearly twenty years of psychiatric work under his belt and something told him this man could prove to be one of his top ten worst-case scenarios. "That's correct, Mr. Larabee..."

"I don't need to talk to a shrink..."

"Chris!"

"It's okay, Mr. Tanner, right?"

"That's right, Doc, but you can call me Vin and this is Chris."

"I can speak for myself, Vin!"

"Are you gonna be civil?"

"It's alright, Vin. Let Mr. Larabee say what's on his mind."

"What's on my mind? Hell, Doc!" the blond lifted his left hand and ripped the oxygen mask off his face. "You guys seem to think the best way to get past things is to talk about them! Let's see...I think it goes something like...face your fears! Well, I damn well don't have any fears so there's nothing I need to talk to you about!"

"Chris, what the hell's the matter with you?" the tracker asked, frowning at his friend's anger.

"Nothing's..." He gasped and wrapped his arm across his chest as his air seemed to be cut off. He fought to make his lungs work as they were supposed to, but a tight band seemed to have wrapped around his chest and continued to squeeze until nothing else mattered, but to draw that one tiny breath.

Fear gripped the younger man as he noticed the bluish tinge to Larabee's lips. He glanced towards the nurse and could tell she was worried for her patient's well being also.

Anne watched her patient struggle to breath as she quickly set up the medication that would help open his passageways. She heard Vin Tanner and Lee Carlyle speaking with the panicked man as she quickly took the nebulizer and set it up. She eased his head up and placed the mask over his mouth and nose. "Chris, try to relax and breathe."

"C...can't....Anne...h...hh....u....rts....br...eathe...can't..."

"Yes, you can, Chris. Just concentrate on letting the medication help you."

"Chris?" Larabee's panicked eyes turned towards his best friend. "That's it, Cowboy, just breathe...nothing else but breathe."

"V...Vin...I..."

"Uhuh, Chris, no talking right now." Vin reached over the rail and clasped his friends left forearm in a gesture of strength and waited for Larabee' breathing to return too normal.

The blond nodded briefly as he felt the air finally entering his lungs, not enough, yet, but at least it was something. He met the worried blue eyes and forced a smile to his face, before realizing Tanner couldn't see it beneath the mask. "O...kay...i...it's gettin' bet...ter!" he muttered tiredly.

"That's good, Pard," Tanner said and kept the fear from his voice.

Chris turned slowly until he saw the reason for his outburst and closed his eyes. He knew he was being unreasonable, but right now he didn't want to be reminded that sooner or later he would have to talk. To relive the horror of what went on in the chamber in Black Rock Desert. His breathing continued to ease and he felt his body being drawn towards sleep, something he needed and feared at the same time. He could hear voices, but could only pick out a few words.

"I ain't gonna apologize for him, Doc," Tanner said as he watched his friend's body relax.

"There's no need for apologies, Vin. I expect to see more outbursts before Mr. Larabee talks through what happened to him. Right now everything's still too fresh for him and he knows who and what I am and that I want to get him to open up about his experience. It's not unusual for victims of torture to be angry, in fact I would be surprised if Chris hadn't showed signs of hostility. Has he talked to you about what he went through?"

"A little, but we haven't really had much time," Vin reached for the rail as he swayed on his feet.

"Perhaps you'd better sit down, Vin," Carlyle observed as Tanner's face paled considerably.

"No, I'm okay," he protested but Anne's hand on his shoulder pressed him into the chair. 'Thanks," he mumbled tiredly.

"Vin, I'm going to get one of your friends to take you home.

"Not until I know Chris is all right."

"He's doing better, Vin. The medication is helping him breathe."

"Ain't goin' until I know for sure. I don't want to come back tomorrow and find you people have found something else to do to him!" He held his head and groaned as he realized how he sounded and lifted tired eyes to the nurse. "Ah, Hell, Anne, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that! It's just..."

"You hate seeing what your friend is going through," Carlyle finished.

"Yeah," the Texan drawled softly.

"You guys are close?"

"You could say that."

"It might not be a bad idea for you to talk about what you went thro..."

"Didn't go through nothin', Doc. Chris is the one who went through hell because of that sonofabitch!"

'I think you're wrong about that. Looks to me like you're in your own version of hell,' the psychiatrist thought as he caught sight of the pain and weariness in the blue eyes. "Maybe, but I'm available if you feel like talking. Anne, I'll speak with Derrick about what happened today and schedule another appointment."

"Yes, Doctor," Anne agreed as she changed the bag of IV fluids over Larabee's bed. She smiled as Ezra Standish came into the room.

"How is Mr. Larabee today?" the gambler asked.

"He's sleepin', Ez, so shut up will ya!" Tanner snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, shit, Ezra, I'm sorry," he winced as he looked at the conman.

"I assure you I was not offended, Mr. Tanner, merely surprised. I am here to take you back to the hotel."

"Ain't ready to leave just yet!"

"Mr. Jackson said to inform you that you are to get...and this is a direct quote...Get your sorry ass back to the hotel or he'll come kick some serious Texas butt!"

"G...go...Vin."

"Chris? Thought you were sleeping?" Tanner asked.

"Not quite, b...but g...getting there. Go with Ezra...be here when you c...come b...back."

"You heard our illustrious leader, Mr. Tanner. Let's go!"

"Are you sure you're okay, Chris?"

"Yeah, just ti...red, Vin."

"Mr. Larabee, I will return as soon as I deliver Mr. Tanner into Mr. Jackson's capable hands."

"Don't need to do that!"

"I assure you it is not that I need to, Mr. Larabee, it's that I wish to."

"Th...anks, Ez...mean...lot to me."

"Sleep, well, Pard."

"You too, Vin," Larabee watched as the two men left the room and finally allowed the pain to show on his face. He knew the others would be back, but for now it was good not to have to hide behind a false front. He felt a cloth gently wash over his forehead and smiled at the nurse. "Thanks...Anne."

"You're welcome, Chris. How do you feel right now?"

"Like I've been sliced and diced!" he answered honestly.

"I bet you do. Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"Sing that song you were humming the other night."

Anne chuckled as she folded the cloth and placed it across his damp forehead. "I can't sing, Chris."

"Hea...rd you..."

"Couldn't have been me. I only hum..."

"Hum it then...swe...et...soft voice."

Anne blushed as she realized he'd been listening to her when she'd been humming and she smiled as his eyes met hers. She reached for the cloth once more and slowly hummed another old favorite of hers.

Chris let the warmth of her voice wash over him and relaxed against the pillows. Sleep eluded him, but the sound of her voice made him feel safe and he relished in the softness of her touch.

Part 30

Chris knew he wasn't alone, yet the soft humming he heard just before he'd fallen asleep had stopped. He opened his eyes carefully and knew it was late. The lights were turned down and a woman he didn't recognize stood before his bed. He frowned as he tried to remember who she was, but no name came to mind.

Jenny, knew the patient was waking up and she smiled at the green eyes staring at her. At fifty-two years of age she'd spent over half her life as a nurse, twelve of those at Washoe Medical. The long time nurse knew no matter how many times a patient woke up in ICU they needed the reassurance that things would be okay. She turned a warm blue gray gaze at the injured man and tried to reassure him.

"Hello, Chris, my name is Jenny and I'll be helping to care for you tonight. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Thirsty," Larabee answered.

"Well, I have some ice chips right here. Would you like to try some?" The blond head dipped once and Jenny lifted the oxygen mask. She placed the spoon of ice chips before his mouth and smiled at the grateful look on his face when he accepted the offering. She gave him a second helping and watched as the green eyes closed and seemed to savor the moisture.

"Thanks," he said and noted the absence of his friends. He remembered telling Standish they didn't need to come back, that he'd be okay, but there was a part of him that wished someone had stayed. 'Don't be so fucking stupid, Larabee! Hell, you told them to go home and they finally listened to you!' he berated himself for feeling alone, knowing the others needed time to themselves as well. He fought the weakness brought on by the emptiness he felt and sighed heavily.

"How is he doing, Jenny?"

Sea green orbs opened and relief shone in them as he heard the soft voice. He turned his grateful gaze on the newcomer and tried to get his emotions in check. "Hi, Nathan."

"Well, hello, Chris. I thought you were gonna sleep through the night." Nathan saw the unfamiliar look on the man's face and wondered what his friend had been thinking about before he came back. "If I'd known you were gonna wake up I wouldn't have left."

"It's okay, Nathan," he swallowed the painful lump in his throat and smiled weakly. "I thought I told Ezra to tell you guys to stay home?"

Jackson's eyebrows rose and he smiled at the injured man. "You may have said that, Chris Larabee, but did you really expect us to leave you alone?"

Larabee's Adam's Apple worked overtime as he fought to keep his volatile emotions in check. "G...guess not," the blond mumbled. He lifted his eyes once more and met the soulful brown eyes of the medic. "Thanks, Nathan, you guys are the best."

"Ah, hell, Chris, you're family, we're family, all of us and when one of us is hurting the rest of us bleed too. We're here for the duration and you might as well give up telling us to go home or that you're okay!"

"O...kay," the blond answered softly. "What time is it?"

"4:45 in the morning. Now get those eyes closed and go to sleep!"

"Vin okay?"

"Vin's fine. He's sleeping and you should be too."

"Sleep all the t...time."

"That's because your body knows you need it even if your mind doesn't," Jackson teased before growing serious once more. "Seriously, Chris, you really need to let yourself heal and that's best done by sleeping and resting."

"Your friend is right, Chris." Jenny said as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Always is we just don't t...tell him o...often enough," Larabee told her and saw the grateful look on Jackson's face.

"Are you in pain?" she asked as she noted the grimace on his face.

"No...not really," the blond answered tiredly.

"Chris..."

"Really, Nathan, it's not too bad. Besides I think the damn morphine just kicked in."

"Yes, it did," Jenny told him and smiled as he yawned. She replaced the oxygen mask and moved away to give the two friends some time alone.

"How are you really doing, Chris?"

"What do you mean, Nathan?"

"Did Dr. Carlyle come to see you?"

"Yeah," Larabee mumbled wearily.

"Did you talk to him?"

"No. I don't need..."

"Chris, you've been through hell...no, that's wrong you've been to hell. What was done to you by that bastard was wrong, Chris, and you went through it alone..."

"Wasn't alone, Nathan. I knew you guys were looking for me. Hell, those cowboys were always there. I may not have been able to see them, but they were there. Still are sometimes," Chris said as his eyelids slowly closed. "Never alone...none of us..." his voice trailed off as he gave into the call of sleep.

Jackson settled into the chair and smiled as he realized his friend was right. Whatever brought their ancestors across the barrier of time he didn't know, but he knew they were still there, lending strength through their ghostly presence. He sighed as he rubbed tired eyes, feeling the stress of the last two weeks, and knowing there was so much more to come. He thought about Ezra's words about Chris and Vin's reaction to Carlyle, and wished Susan James was here. Chris and Vin, for that matter all of them trusted her and knew she'd listen to whatever they had to say. She'd been there to help Chris deal with the deaths of his wife and son and for that they would always be grateful. 'You need to talk about this, Chris,' he thought as he settled back to wait for morning.

+ + + + + + +

Chris winced as the lab tech took blood from the A line in his left wrist. Normally they were gentle and he felt nothing, but this woman was rough, and didn't seem to give a damn whether she hurt him or not.

"There, now that wasn't so bad was it, Mr. Larabee," she said disinterestedly as she turned and walked away.

Chris glared daggers at her back, his eyes never wavered as he whispered. "Not bad at all, bit..."

"Chris!" Wilmington interrupted in spite of his own anger towards the woman's rough treatment of his injured friend.

"What, Buck?" Larabee snapped. "Shit, she'd better not come back anymore!"

Wilmington knew it was more than her rough treatment that was causing Larabee's anger. The constant pain and treatments were taking a toll on the injured man and his patience was wearing thin. Buck knew his friend's doctors would be there shortly with the results of the tests they'd run since the dialysis treatment the day before. He hoped the two men would have good news, God knew he deserved some.

"Easy, Stud, don't go gettin' mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, Buck!" Larabee snapped. "But someone must've been asleep at the wheel when they passed that bitch! She's got the bedside manner of a pariah!" He grew quiet as he watched two familiar men headed towards his room.

"Good morning, Chris," Barrett greeted his patient and turned to the ladies man. "Mr. Wilmington."

"Call me Buck, Doc."

Barrett nodded as he listened to Mullen talk with Chris. He hoped the news they were about to impart would raise his patient's spirits and give him some hope that things were getting better.

"Now, Chris, how are you feeling today?" Mullen asked.

"Why don't you tell me? I mean you're the ones with all the answers!"

"Chris!" Buck snapped.

"Ah, Hell," Larabee hissed as he saw a hint of disappointment in the ladies man's eyes. "I'm sorry, Doc, it's just that I'm tired of being stuck in this damn bed!"

"That's understandable, Chris. If you weren't then I'd think there was something mighty wrong," Mullen explained. "Now, I don't want to get your hopes up too much, but I think we may have a little good news..."

Larabee hastily interrupted. "I'm getting out of here?"

"I said some good news, Chris. I didn't say a miracle."

"Shit!" the blond hissed.

"Hey, Chris, give him a chance to explain," Wilmington said as he met the fiery gaze. "Go ahead, Doc!"

"Dr. Barrett and I were looking over the latest test results and things are looking up. Your creatinine, BUN, and potassium levels are better and we're very hopeful you won't need any more Dialysis..."

Buck's shrill whistle interrupted the doctor as he slapped his hands on his knees. "Hell, Stud, did ya hear that? No more dialysis!"

"I said hopefully, Mr. Wilmington," Mullen corrected.

"When will you know for sure?" Chris asked.

"If the numbers stay as they are we should know by tomorrow morning. We'll continue with the bloodwork and urinalysis until then," the specialist explained.

"Just as long as that bit...."

"Chris means he'd rather the last lab tech didn't come back," the ladies man quickly intervened and felt Larabee's glare turned his way.

"Anne, who was she?" Barrett asked.

"Patrice Milliard. She's already been given a reprimand for her treatment of patients, Doctor. She was pretty rough with Chris earlier and I've seen her like it before."

"Maybe it's time someone had a word with her," Mullen told Barrett. He knew patients in Larabee's condition got frustrated and they didn't need someone like Milliard making matters worse.

"I'll speak with her supervisor and make sure she doesn't get sent here again," Barrett assured them.

"Thanks, Doc," Wilmington said gratefully.

"Derrick, I have a meeting with another patient's family and will meet with you this afternoon." He turned back to Larabee before leaving. "You take it easy, Chris and make sure you let us know if you're having any problems."

"I will," the blond mumbled.

"Now, then, Chris, how would you feel about getting rid of that NG tube and see about eating again?" Barrett asked.

"Hell, yes!" Larabee snapped up the idea of getting rid of at least one of his accessories.

"I think we can also dispense with the oxygen mask and use the nasal canulas for now, and maybe we can sit you up a little more as well."

Chris lay back and listened as the doctor told them what he was going to do. His moods seemed to change at the drop of a hat these days and he hated the disorientation brought on by those swings. He knew he should be happy with the small steps they were taking, but right now small steps did little when all he could see was what lay ahead of him. He knew he was feeling sorry for himself, yet right now, he didn't care. He was tired, he wanted out, and he wasn't about to give in gracefully. He felt the oxygen mask lifted and the smaller nasal canulas quickly replaced it. The NG tube came next and he waited until the nauseating feeling of having it removed passed before opening his eyes. He watched the nurse place something in his IV and realized it was probably the anti nausea medication Barrett ordered for him.

"Easy, Chris."

"I...I'm okay, Buck."

"Sure you are, Pard."

"Chris would you like to sit up a little more?" Barrett asked.

"Y...yeah...think so."

Anne pressed the button on the side of the bed and Larabee's upper body slowly rose. She stopped as soon as the doctor motioned for her to, and watched as Larabee's face contorted in pain.

"Just try to relax, Chris, it'll calm down in a minute," Barrett noted of the pain he saw on his patient's face.

Chris didn't take the time to acknowledge the doctor's words as the pain washing over his body continued unabated. He could hear Buck, Barrett, and Anne talking to him in soothing tones, but for now they were no longer part of the misery he endured. He sucked in gulp after gulp of air, trying to quell the continuing nausea and pain, but despaired of it ever ending. He kept his eyes closed and suffered in his own world, unable to reach out to the others as he sank into the dark void of oblivion.

"Shoot, Doc, I thought things were supposed to be easier on him!"

"They will, Buck, but with the extent of his injuries he's gonna be in misery no matter what we do. Hopefully sitting up like this will help him breath a little easier, but between the pleurisy and the chest tube he'll still be uncomfortable."

"How long before he gets rid of the chest tube?"

"Hopefully in a couple of days. Dr. Hastings will be down later this morning to check on him."

"Dr. Hastings?" Buck couldn't place the name.

"The orthopaedic surgeon who operated on his hip."

"Oh! What's he gonna do?"

"He wants to make sure everything's okay with the hip and that Chris is not having too much discomfort."

"Hell, discomfort is putting it mildly. He's far beyond discomfort, it looks to me like he's in agony most of the time," Wilmington's words were laced with sarcasm, but he didn't care anymore. His deep blue eyes were filled with unshed moisture as he looked at the sleeping blond. Lines of pain were etched into the forehead and tiny beads of sweat were visible as well. Buck ran his fingers through the sandy blond hair and hoped Chris could feel his presence.

+ + + + + + +

"Vin, you're not making sense!" Dunne argued as the sharpshooter crawled out of bed and reached for the chair beside it.

"Look, Kid, I'm not staying here when I know Chris..."

"Having problems," Sanchez asked from the bedroom doorway.

"No!" Tanner snapped.

"Yes!" Dunne corrected, ignoring the biting glare from the tracker. "He wants to go see Chris but he can't even stand up on his own!"

The ex-preacher stepped into the bedroom and took note of the soiled basin and towels beside the bed. His concerned blue eyes searched Tanner's pale face and he placed his hands on the younger man's left shoulder. He didn't use much force to make the injured man sit back on the bed, and he quickly sat beside the trembling form. He nodded towards the kid and smiled. "It's okay, JD. Vin's not going anywhere." He felt Tanner's head lift and knew the younger man was glaring at him.

"Josiah!" the tracker hissed.

"Vin, it won't do you or Chris any good if you walk into his room and pass out! If you were to do that then I'm sure Chris would find some way of getting out of that bed in his efforts to get to you. If he did that I'm sure he'd end up tacking on more time to his hospital stay. Is that what you really want to happen?"

"No, Josiah, ya know that's not what I want! I want Chris out of there. I want him back where he belongs. I want...no, I need him...Shit! I don't know how to explain..."

"He's your brother, Vin. That's why you feel so strongly about him. He's hurt and it's only natural that you want to help him heal. But you can't put his health ahead of your own..."

"But..."

"No, buts, Vin. You and Chris have that unique connection and it's seen you both through hell on countless times. Right now you're hurting and you need to look after yourself. He's gonna need you strong once they start physiotherapy on his hip..."

"That's gonna be hell..."

"Yeah, it is, but he won't have to go through it alone. He'll have the six..."

"More'n six," Tanner corrected softly.

"You're right, Vin, he'll have all of us to make sure he listens and does as he's told."

"Hell, Josiah, we've never been able to get him to listen before, so what makes you think this time'll be any different?"

"Just a feeling."

"Hope your feeling is right, Josiah, 'cause Chris is a stubborn cuss..."

"He ain't the only one!" Dunne commented from the window.

"You got that right, JD," Sanchez agreed as he stood up and looked at the injured man. "Now why don't you lie back and rest while JD and I get you something to eat."

"Not hungry."

"Vin, you gotta eat!" Sanchez said.

"My stomach doesn't agree with you right now, Josiah."

"JD, can you get the Dramamine tablets the doctor ordered?"

"Sure, Josiah," the kid said and hurried from the room.

"Now, Vin, you're going to take the pills, lie down, sleep if you can and after lunch I'll take you to see brother Chris myself!"

"You won't let me sleep too long?"

"I'll let you sleep until you wake up. I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but you're not up to par yourself."

"Here you go, Vin!" Dunne's loud voice preceded him into the room. He hurried in carrying the pills and a glass of water.

Vin took the pills in his hands and looked at them reluctantly. His stomach was still churning, but these pills usually made him sleepy and he didn't want to sleep for long.

"Take them, Vin. Chris will be there when you wake up!" Sanchez ordered and was glad when the younger man complied. He smiled as the kid took the glass and placed it on the table. Between the two of them they soon had the tracker lying down in the bed and both men breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wake me in an hour," Tanner drawled.

"I don't think so, Vin. You sleep until your body tells you it's had enough," the ex-preacher ordered.

"Shit, J'siah, may not w...wake up for...week!"

Sanchez's quick laughter soothed the tracker's frayed nerves and he drifted into an easy slumber, knowing someone was watching his and Chris' back. He heard the two men talking softly and heard the drapes being drawn, the lights being turned out. He was asleep before the door closed and missed the smile on the shadowy figure who continued to watch over him.

'Sleep well, Mr. Tanner, there's still a long road ahead of all of you!'

"Always sleeping," Vin mumbled as the soft southern accent penetrated his sleep.

Part 31

Chris wasn't sure he wanted to be awake as Hastings examined his hip, but he didn't seem to have much choice. The door and the blinds were closed and only Hastings and Anne were with him. The thin blanket and sheet were drawn back, and he shivered as the cool air seemed to kiss his naked body. What little dignity he'd had was gone now as he trembled in the wake of the newcomer's examination. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to give into the pain Hastings' cold touch was causing. He was definitely not in the mood to deal with the cold hearted orthopaedic surgeon, Chris kept his eyes closed and bit his lip as he waited for it to be over. He felt the hands leave his body and someone lifted the blanket back over him.

"Mr. Larabee?"

"Yeah?" Chris ground out and finally opened his eyes.

"I know that probably hurt..."

" Not probably...It did!"

"I apologize for that, but it couldn't be helped. The hip seems to be healing fine and I'm going to arrange physiotherapy as soon as you're moved out of ICU and the respiratory specialist gives the go ahead. For now, I just want you to take it easy and try not to move around to much."

"No problem there, Doc," Larabee hissed. "I don't seem to be moving around at all."

"That'll change, Mr. Larabee."

"Yeah, that's what everyone keeps telling me."

"Well, I have other patients to see so I'll turn you over to Anne and your friends. I'll see you in a couple of days to talk about what else has to be done." Hastings picked up his chart and without a backwards glance hurried from the room.

"Chris, are you okay?"

Chris groaned as he tried to get comfortable. "N...no! That sonofabitch must be related to that bitch from this morning!" he snapped.

"I know he's probably set off the pain again, Chris..."

"Ah, hell," Larabee saw the sympathy in her soft brown eyes and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Anne, didn't mean to snap at you."

Anne smiled at her patient and was surprised when he returned it. The anger left the green orbs and was replaced by a warmth she'd never seen before, and she knew she could easily lose herself in the deep pools. She was hard pressed not to give into her own body's urges, but she forced back her growing feelings in order to give her patient the best care she could provide. "That's okay, Chris, I understand how you must feel."

"Thanks, Anne, but there's no excuse for snapping at you for trying to help."

She was glad to see he knew she was trying to ease his pain. There were so many facets to this patient and each one gave her a sense of who he was. She could tell he'd had more pain in his life than most people suffered in a lifetime, yet she knew instinctively that he hadn't faced it alone. The six men he called family were always there and she understood that they always would be. "Would you like me to open the blinds and the door?" she asked, wanting to give him a chance to be alone if he wanted to.

"Y...yeah." Chris answered, knowing Ezra and Buck would be waiting to see if he was alright. He hated knowing the others worried about him, but was glad that he didn't have to face things alone.

Anne smiled before she walked towards the door, opened it and gestured for the two men to come inside. She laughed softly as they rushed past her and over to the bed. 'You guys are just what he needs,' she thought as she opened the blinds.

"Hey, Chris, how did it go?" Wilmington asked.

"It went okay, Buck. Hello, Ezra."

"Greetings, Mr. Larabee, I must say you do look rather pale," Standish observed worriedly.

"Dr. Hastings did a thorough job," Anne explained as she came back to the bed.

"Did Dr. Hastings inform you as to how that particular injury was doing?" the gambler asked.

"He said it's doing okay and they'd be starting Physio as soon as I get out of this room."

"And the respiratory specialist okays it," Anne corrected.

"Yeah, that too," Larabee grinned, but quickly covered his mouth as he felt the familiar tightness building in his chest. He couldn't stop the cough that erupted, any more than he could stop the agony it caused. He lay back against the pillow as he felt two sets of worried eyes on him. He heard Anne preparing his medication and soon felt the mask placed over his mouth and nose. "S...shit, sor...ry," he wheezed as he felt the band tightening across his chest. He knew the medication would kick in pretty fast and relaxed against his pillow.

"Ah, hell, Chris, I wish there was something I could do."

"Y...you are, Buck...helps know...ing you guys are h...here."

"We shall endeavor to make sure we are always present to lend our support, Mr. Larabee," Standish assured him.

"Th...thanks...Ez. hate that you g...guys are see...ing me like this!"

"Hell, Chris, you're always there for us, it's 'bout time we returned the favor. I just wish it was under better circumstances," Wilmington told him.

Larabee nodded and let the heavy lids drop over tired eyes. he felt the draw of sleep and felt safe with his friends watching over him. "Gonna sl...sleep for a wh...while," he mumbled.

"You do that, Mr. Larabee. I assure you we're not going anywhere," Standish vowed as he sank into the chair beside the bed. He looked up as Buck Wilmington leaned heavily against the rail of the bed and settled in to watch over their friend.

+ + + + + + +

Vin walked into the ICU room and nodded to Standish and Wilmington. The gambler meant it when he said they were not going anywhere. The two men hadn't moved from the room, but had kept up a soft conversation while Larabee slept. Sometimes the conversation was serious, but more often than not it was humorous as the two men tried to relieve some of their own pent up frustrations. They'd even managed to get Larabee's nurse involved and actually had her laughing with them.

Standish stood up quickly and gestured for the sharpshooter to sit down. "Have a seat, Mr. Tanner."

"I'm okay, Ez, thanks anyway," the younger man assured the gambler.

"Vin, stop trying to be so damn strong all the time!" Wilmington said softly. "Besides, Ezra's derriere needs a break, I mean he's been sitting on it all morning and it's gotta be getting numb!"

"Ah, Mr. Wilmington, if it does continue to grow numb it will be like that thing you call a brain and of very little use." Standish said, relieved when their comments brought a smile to the tracker's face as he finally sat in the chair. His eyes met those of the ladies man and a small grin of approval appeared under the man's moustache.

Vin knew Buck and Ezra were trying to ease his, as well as their own minds with their minor insults. The two men were friends and would do anything for each other and had proven that often enough. He smiled as he realized the NG tube was gone and the oxygen mask was replaced with nasal canulas. 'Least something is looking up,' he thought.

"Are you all right, Mr. Tanner?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Ez. How's Chris been?"

"I'm fine too, Vin," Larabee answered and opened his eyes.

"Hey, Pard, thought you were asleep."

"No, just listening to Abbott and Costello over there," he smiled as he pointed to Standish and Wilmington.

"Oh, the indignity, Mr. Larabee! Abbot and Costello!" Standish scoffed. "Pray tell who is who?"

"Don't worry, Ez, you're definitely the Bud kind've guy," the ladies man assured him.

"That is a relief," the gambler said.

"Why don't you and I leave these two alone and go work on our Who's on First Base routine, Bud?"

"Who's what, Lou?"

"Never mind," Wilmington rolled his eyes. "We'll see you guys later."

"We'll be here," Tanner said with a grin. "How are you really doing, Chris?"

Larabee smiled as he watched the two men leave and then turned his attention to his best friend. "Honestly, Vin, I feel like shit most of the time, but I think it's getting better. I mean Dr. Hastings was here earlier..."

"Dr. Hastings?"

"Orthopaedic surgeon. I thought he was a real mean son of a bitch when he was here, but I don't think he meant to be that way. I think he was just doing a thorough job, but it felt like Ma...Maguire all over again."

"Ah, hell, Chris, wish none of this had happened."

"It's not your fault, Vin. Just knowing you guys are here makes it easier. I d...don't know what I'd do if..." Larabee swallowed as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He knew Susan James would probably tell him it was a natural reaction to what he'd been through, but he hated feeling weak. He turned away from his friend before he could see the evidence of that weakness.

The sharpshooter didn't miss the moisture laden eyes or the grimace of pain that had nothing to do with physical injuries. "Chris?"

Larabee couldn't turn his head, couldn't face his friend as he realized he was showing parts of his soul he didn't mean to bare. He didn't know that what he perceived as weakness, others saw as traits that made him who he was. He watched Anne moving around the room, and was grateful that she'd given him a chance to be alone with his friend.

Chris closed his eyes, and visions of the chamber came back, sending a shiver of dread down his spine. This was something he'd grown used to, it seemed to happen every time he closed his eyes. His arms would throb and his shoulders would ache as he relived the time he hung from the ceiling. He groaned as he tried to find a comfortable spot, but there didn't seem to be one. His anger and frustration grew as he shifted in the bed and he wished his friend would leave before things got worse. He hated showing this side of himself, but there was nothing he could do to stop it right now.

Vin thought his friend was sleeping until he heard the soft groan from the bed. "Hey, Cowboy, you okay?" Tanner asked as he looked towards the door and watched Nathan Jackson enter the room.

"Yeah, Vin, I'm just fuckin' great! I mean what the hell could possibly be wrong? I got a private room and someone who stays with me constantly and cares for me. When things finally ease up a little and I begin to feel just a little bit human some doctor comes in and stirs all that shit right back up and I feel like hell!" Larabee hissed without turning. He knew his words would hurt the sharpshooter, but he couldn't stop himself. "Shit! Vin! Dammit!" He turned and saw the medic standing beside the sharpshooter. "Godammit, I hate this!"

"Chris, it's okay," Tanner assured him.

"No it's not, Vin! I'm taking my anger at what Maguire did out on you guys and that's just not right! I sh...should be grateful..." he groaned and held his left arm to his side as pain emanated from his ribs. "Shit! Look, when I get like th...this just tell me to shut the fuck up!"

"Ain't gonna happen, Cowboy. You need to talk and we're willing to listen," the sharpshooter told him.

"Chris, we're here whenever you feel like going..."

"Bal...listic," Larabee smiled in spite of the lingering anger. His chest heaved and he looked towards the nurse. He knew she was watching him and was grateful for her presence. He knew she could tell when he was in trouble, and he watched as she started to get his medications ready. He felt a hand on his shoulder and wasn't surprised when he turned his head and saw Jackson's sympathetic gaze on him.

"Just take it easy, Chris. Anne's setting up the nebulizer," the medic told him.

"Ha...hate that thing!" He could feel the heated anger leaving him, and he felt drained by the conflicting emotions and how quickly he seemed to jump from one to the other.

"I know, Chris, but it helps, right?"

"Yeah, N...Nathan it d...does, but I still hate it!"

"Chris."

Larabee turned to the nurse and felt the nasal canulas removed and the mask placed over his mouth and nose. He closed his eyes and waited for the bronchodilators to do their job. Slowly, but surely he felt the band around his chest easing and he turned a grateful smile towards Anne. He knew he was beginning to feel something for her and briefly wondered if it was real, or just a case of gratitude for someone who was caring for him when he most needed it.

"Thanks, guys," he said as he looked towards his friends.

"No thanks, needed, Chris," Jackson assured him.

"Yeah, it is, Nathan. I don't think I'd be here now if you guys hadn't stuck by me...."

"Where else would we be, Chris? Family, remember?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah. Family...the best a man could ask for!" Larabee said softly, sending the truth of the words through his trusting gaze. He heard the morphine pump's nearly silent signal as it delivered the medication into his arm and knew he'd soon feel it pull him towards sleep.

"Hey, Cowboy, ya don't need to be getting sappy on us," the tracker insisted, yet he felt the same way about these men.

Larabee yawned as he looked at the two men. His eyes were growing heavy and he listened to the two men asking Anne how he was really doing. "Te...tell them do...ing just fi...fine, Anne. Just a l...little tired."

"I will, Chris," the nurse told him.

"Go on to sleep, Chris," Jackson said as he watched Larabee fight to stay awake.

"Not sl...sleepy," Larabee mumbled and forced his eyes open.

"That's not what your eyes say, Cowboy."

"You're one to talk, T...Tanner. You could pack e...enough lug...gage in t...those bags for a month long va...vacation."

"See, Nate, that's gratitude for ya. Guy gets out of his own sick bed to come see a friend and gets insulted."

"Sorry, Vin, but I gotta agree with Chris. Those bags get any bigger and we're liable to get stopped at the airport for carrying oversize baggage."

Tanner heard the soft laughter from the bed and saw the sparkle in the sea green eyes. "Damn, this just ain't right! Are you two ganging up on me now?"

"Just telling the truth, C...Cowboy. You l...look like you need sl...sleep more than I do."

"I wouldn't go that far, Chris, but it's pretty damn close. Come on, Vin. Why don't we let Chris get some sleep while I get you home. Chris, Josiah and JD will be here when you wake up."

"Thanks, Nathan, don't need to s...stay...tell them to go h...home!"

"Ain't gonna happen, Chris," Tanner smiled as he stood up. "Someone's always gonna be here, so you might as well give it up."

Chris smiled as he heard the words and his eyes began to close once more. "Always coun...ted on that," he whispered without realizing the words were spoken aloud. He didn't see the twin smiles on the faces of his two friends or see the relief in their eyes that he'd given in to his body's need for sleep.

Part 32

Barrett and Mullen finished their examination of the injured man and stood back from the bed to give him a couple of minutes to compose himself. They knew how hard it was on him, but there was no choice. They needed to be sure everything was healing properly and that no new problems were showing up.

Anne stood at the side of the bed, her eyes turned away from the doctors in order to keep her own emotions from prying eyes. There was no doubt in her mind now that she'd developed feelings for this particular patient, but she vowed not to act on them. She took the cloth from the basin and gently washed Larabee's face, wiping away the perspiration and easing the tension.

Larabee looked into her eyes and smiled as he saw the warmth in the soft brown orbs. "Thanks, Anne," he whispered.

"You're welcome, Chris."

"Chris, I think we've got some good news," Mullen said.

Larabee turned to the doctors as the nurse moved away from the bed. "What?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, the test results are better than we expected at this point and we can definitely dispense with any more dialysis..."

"Really?" Larabee eyes lit up at the news and he managed to sit forward a little.

"Yes, really," Barrett laughed at the excitement written on his patient's face. "You want to hear the rest of it?"

"There's more? Hell, I thought that was great. What else?"

"We can also get rid of the fole..."

"Hell, yes!" Larabee hissed before Barrett had a chance to finish.

"I take it you like that idea?" Mullen asked.

"Nooo, not at all!" the patient grinned at the two men.

"Chris, we may be able to move you out of the ICU in a day or two if all continues to go as it is!"

"You mean I get rid of all of this?"

"Not quite. The chest tube will probably come out tomorrow, but that doesn't mean you're cured. You've still got pleurisy to deal with and that's not healing as fast as I would like. We're going to start you on a new course of antibiotics and hopefully we'll see some improvement."

"Shoot, Doc, thought you said things were getting better?"

"They are, Chris. You're making great strides here, but you have to realize you've still got a lot of healing to do. The broken hip alone will keep you down..."

"Don't bet on it!"

"You won't have a choice there, Chris. There's also the other injuries, the broken ribs, your shoulder, the welts on your body and even those tiny puncture wounds, all of them will cause you problems. Your lungs are another problem and a respiratory specialist will be down to see you this afternoon..."

Larabee's eyes turned glacial and his voice held a sharp edge as he interrupted. "I don't need to see any more doctors."

"Chris this is for your..."

"Own good! Do you know how often I've heard that, Doc? I'm sick to death of it. Look, just get me the hell out of here and I'll look after myself. No more needles! No more tests! No more lab techs with the b...bedside m...manners of a g...ghoul! No m...more d...doctors! I've h...had it!"

"Easy, Chris." Barrett said and turned to the nurse. "Anne, set up a mask!" Even as he spoke he realized the nurse was already setting things up.

"I d...don't w...ant it!" Larabee snapped.

"Chris, you need it right now," Barrett warned.

"No! Do you h...hear me? I s...said NO!" He found it difficult to draw a breath, but he forced the words out.

Mullen moved to the door and opened it. He knew Larabee's friends were just outside the door and from what he'd heard from Barrett these men would be able to calm Larabee down.

Barrett heard Mullen move to the door and nodded gratefully to him. Having been through it himself he recognized the signs of PTSD in Larabee and knew the mood swings were part of it.

"No more! I've had e...nough of t...this shit to last me a l...lifetime and I..."

"Hey, Chris, sounds like the docs here have pissed you off," Wilmington said as he moved in beside the bed.

Larabee used his left elbow and pushed his body up in the bed, ignoring the fire that ignited in his ribs. "Help me out of this f...fuckin' bed, B...Buck! I c...can't stay h...here any l...longer!"

"Chris?"

Larabee turned and faced Josiah, who moved into Barrett's position. "H...help me out, J'siah, or I'll fuckin' do it my...self!"

"How are you gonna manage that, Brother?" Sanchez' voice was deceptively calm as he talked to the younger man.

Larabee knew the tone the ex-preacher was using and knew there'd be no help from the older man, at least not the kind of help he wanted. He turned his gaze back to his long time friend and pleaded. "Buck, g...get me o...out of h...here!"

"Can't do that, Chris. You need to let the doctors help you," Wilmington's voice was soft as he looked at his friend.

"No! Godammit, Buck. I W...WANT O...OUT OF H...HERE N...NOW!" Larabee shouted, and grimaced as the pain in his chest erupted to engulf his body in a fiery mass of agony. "Je...sus," he swore as he dropped back on the pillow, the air hissing in and out of his lungs as he fought to catch his breathe.

"Easy, Chris," Barrett said as Sanchez moved back and allowed the doctor to help his friend.

"C...can't br...eath, Doc...shit!"

Buck moved out of the way as Anne touched his arm. She smiled at her patient as she placed the mask over his mouth and nose. "This will help, Chris," she told him.

"N....nothing helps...s...sick of be...ing here."

"I know you are, Chris," Barrett realized he was close to tears as he watched this man go through something he had first hand knowledge of. He hated seeing the pain and uncertainty in his patient's eyes, but knew those emotions and more would be there until he talked about what he'd been put through.

"Just w...want to go h...home," Larabee mumbled tiredly.

"You will, Stud," Wilmington assured him. "Just not today, Chris, you need to let these people help you get well."

Larabee nodded and closed his eyes as the emotional outburst left him exhausted and in pain. The strength brought on by his display dissipated as quickly as it had come and he felt drained.

"Get some rest, Chris, when you feel batter Anne will take care of the foley..."

"I'm o...kay, Doc, t...take it o...out now!"

Barrett laughed as he turned to the nurse. "You heard him, Anne. Get rid of the foley. Chris, I'll be back to check on you this afternoon."

"T...thanks, Doc, didn't m...mean to s...shout at y...you," Larabee said, his voice soft as he drifted towards sleep.

Barrett and Mullen left their patient in the caring hands of his nurse and friends.

"Buck, Josiah, would you leave us alone for a few minutes?" Anne asked as she watched her patient's eyes drifting closed. She knew the morphine had finally kicked in and Larabee would soon be asleep.

"Sure, Anne," Sanchez told her. "Chris we'll be right outside the door."

"Chris, I can stay if you think you need someone to protect your virtue," Wilmington teased and was pleased to see the heat rise in the nurse's cheeks.

Larabee's eyes widened and he glared at the scoundrel. "Shut up, B...Buck!" he hissed.

"Come on, now, Stud, I mean we both know what it's like to have a foley..."

"Buck, if you value your life, you'll leave with me now," the ex-preacher warned.

"Ah, hell, Josiah, I was just kidding. Chris knows that. Right, Stud?"

"Get out, Buck!" Larabee told him, but the sparkle in his eyes showed there was no anger behind the words.

"All right, Chris." Wilmington turned towards the still blushing nurse. "You sure you can handle him, Anne?"

"Buck!"

"All right, all right! I'm going!" Wilmington laughed as Sanchez grabbed his arm and pulled him from the room.

"I'm sorry, Anne. Buck's not always like this."

"He's not?"

"No," Larabee assured her and then laughed lightly. "He's usually worse, but that man's got a heart of gold."

"I'm sure he does," Anne told him as she folded back the blanket. She smiled as her patient turned away. She knew this was embarrassing for most men, but with this one it seemed to be even worse. She'd seen the rising heat in his cheeks as she lifted the blanket and wished there was some way to ease his mind. She knew the best thing to do was to move as quickly as possible in order to minimize the discomfort and embarrassment. Her hands touched him and she felt him flinch, but he didn't move away. She expertly deflated the tiny balloon and removed the tubing. She finished as quickly as possible and eased the blanket back over her patient.

Larabee waited until the blanket was back in place before turning to meet the now familiar brown eyes. "Thanks, Anne," he said, and hoped she caught just how much her gentle touch meant to him.

"You're welcome, Chris. Do you want me to let Buck and Josiah back in?"

"N...not yet," Larabee said, not quite ready to deal with the jokes he knew Buck would tell in an effort to make him smile. He knew the ladies man did it to take his mind off things, but right now Chris Larabee wanted to be alone with his emotions. He felt the tears in his eyes and was relieved when Anne placed a box of tissues by his left hand and turned away. He grabbed a couple and touched them against his eyes as he let the tears fall freely, unaware that Anne Sheridan was doing the same from where she stood by the tiny sink.

Anne knew she could not let Chris or any of his friends see her tears. She would not let her feelings interfere with this man's care. She would do everything in her power to ensure that he got well and returned to his own life. She took a deep breath and picked up a face cloth. She wet it and wiped away the evidence before turning back to her patient. She wasn't surprised to see the eyes closed and his features were finally relaxed in sleep. She opened the door and the drapes and signaled to the two men they could come back in, but they would have to be quiet. She watched as the two men settled in to watch over their friend and knew he was in the best possible hands.

Part 33

The remainder of the day went smoothly with no further emotional outbursts from Chris. He listened as his friends told him what was happening outside his four walls, or read to him from the newspapers. He'd laugh at their jokes, argue with them if he didn't agree with what they said, yet his friends could tell he was doing it for them. Chris Larabee was depressed, but he was doing everything he could to hide that fact from the people who cared the most.

Vin sat beside the bed early the next afternoon and smiled at the new nurse. Anne Sheridan was finished her rotation and he knew Larabee missed her. Something was brewing between them and he wondered if it would continue once the injured man was released from the hospital. He hoped they would be given the chance to explore their growing feelings.

Chris opened his eyes and forced a smile to his face as he saw the tracker sitting beside the bed. He knew Vin was to see Milano at three to see how things were going with his own injuries and he prayed the news would be good. Tanner's headaches seemed to be easing off, but Chris could tell the younger man's shoulder still bothered him.

Vin felt his friend watching him and smiled as he looked into the green eyes. "Hey, Cowboy, you look better."

"Better, Vin? Better than what?"

"Better than you did last night, Chris. Hell, Pard, ya know what I mean."

"Yeah, Vin, I do. Sorry, just don't feel like small talk today."

"Small talk, Chris. You and Vin never do small talk," Dunne exclaimed from the opposite side of the bed. "You two don't hardly talk at all."

"Not much point in talking if everything's already been said, Kid," the sharpshooter drawled softly.

"Mr. Larabee, I need to take some blood," the three men turned to see an older woman with silver-blue hair, and a warm smile enter the room.

Dunne winced and turned away as his stomach fluttered angrily. He hated the sight of needles, but tended to hide it when Ezra was around because the older man also had the same weakness.

"Go get something to drink before you flake out, JD," Larabee ordered as the lab tech gently grasped the A-line. He smiled as she placed several vials on the table and looked at him. "Where's the bit...," he stopped and forced himself to calm down. "What happened to the pariah?" he asked.

"The who?"

"The one who must've been asleep when they taught bedside manners."

The woman's eyebrows rose, and a knowing smile lit up her face. "You must mean Patrice."

"Yeah, that's the one," Larabee answered.

"I must say I've never heard her called a pariah, but it certainly does suit her," she said as she opened the A-line and flushed it.

"I hope to hell she's not picking on some other unsuspecting victim," Larabee said.

"Was she really that bad?" the tech asked. "You don't need to answer that, Mr. Larabee. I can tell you really didn't like her. As for what happened to her, I really can't go into it, but she won't be bothering you anymore." She finished drawing the blood and sealed the line again before walking to the door.

Barrett heard Larabee's conversation with the lab tech and entered the room as the other woman left. "How are you doing, Chris?"

"I'm okay, Doc. Just glad the pariah didn't come back." Larabee knew he was overreacting, but it didn't matter right now. He was sore and he was tired of people always asking how he was doing.

"Well, the pari," Barrett shook his head and rephrased his words. "I mean Patrice Milliard is no longer with the hospital. She tendered her resignation after the board confronted her about her treatment of patients."

"The woman shouldn't have a license." He knew he was probably being too hard on her, but hated the thought of her touching other patients, especially ones who couldn't do anything about it.

"She probably won't once she goes up before the board. Yours was not the first complaint, Chris. We've had a few of them and lately they've been coming closer together. Now that's enough about Patrice Milliard. I've come with what I hope is more good news."

"What?" Tanner asked as Dunne came back into the room.

"We're going to remove the chest tube this afternoon and if all goes well tonight we'll move you into a private room tomorrow morning."

"Hey, that's great!" Dunne said excitedly.

Vin saw the hint of a real smile on Larabee's face and returned one of his own. "Hear that, Cowboy, you're gettin' out of here."

"Yeah," Larabee said as the doctor stood over him. "When do I get out of the hospital?" he asked.

"Well, now, Chris, that's not gonna happen for a while yet. You're gonna start physio as soon as possible and Dr. Jacobs is on his way down now."

"Dr. Jacobs?" Larabee asked.

"Respiratory specialist. I want him to take a look at you and make sure things are healing properly."

"Hell, Doc," Larabee hissed.

"Chris, we really do need to make sure your lungs are okay."

"Ain't like you've never been through those tests before, Cowboy," Tanner said.

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean I like them."

"Just remember this time tomorrow you'll be out from under constant surveillance," the tracker told him.

"Yeah," the blond smiled as he realized he wouldn't have a stranger with him at all times. He frowned as a pretty face framed by auburn hair flashed in his mind.

"Chris, are you all right?" Tanner asked worriedly.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, was just thinking."

"About?"

"Never mind, Vin."

"Well, gentlemen, I've got other patients to see. Chris, I'll be back tomorrow morning and we'll see about getting you out of here."

"Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome," Barrett said as he left the room, knowing he needed to get Larabee to speak with Dr. Carlyle as soon as possible. He knew Larabee was far from over what he'd been through, but they couldn't force him to talk of the torture and subsequent hospitalization.

+ + + + + + +

Chris lay back against the pillows, his eyes closed, but he was not sleeping. Josiah Sanchez sat beside the bed and Chris understood that the older man knew he was awake, but was letting him make the decision as to whether to talk or not. The tube in his chest was gone now, but the pain was still there, not as strong, but annoying whenever he moved. Buck and JD had taken Vin Tanner home just after the respiratory specialist paid him a visit.

Jacobs took care in examining the patient and explained about Chris' lungs and how they were weak because of the pleurisy and punctured lung. He told them that Chris would need to continue with the masks until he was stronger. Jacobs had left him with exercises, including a flexible tube attached to another tube which held a ball. The object of the exercise was for him to blow into the flexible tube and make the little ball rise up the second tube until it reached the top. So far Chris had only managed to get it halfway up the second tube.

"Josiah?"

"Can I get you something, Chris?"

"Yeah, water," the blond answered. He accepted the glass from Sanchez and slowly sipped the cold water. The Zofran was doing the job of quelling his rebellious stomach and he'd been keeping the soft diet down. He passed the glass back to the older man and settled back on the bed. He looked at the book in Sanchez' hand and smiled. It was a book of poetry given to the ex-preacher by a woman they'd helped rescue and the older man thoroughly enjoyed the woman's poems.

Sanchez saw Larabee's smile as he looked at the book. "Would you like to hear some poetry, Brother?" he asked.

"Yeah," the injured man said as he let his eyes close. He relaxed as the ex-preacher's voice read the wondrous words. Chris realized it wasn't the words that were soothing his nerves, but the man's voice. No matter how often he listened to Josiah Sanchez, Chris was always amazed at the unique gentleness that surrounded this man's soul. He drifted off to sleep knowing the ex-preacher was there, and along with the others he always would be.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra sat in the chair beside Larabee's bed and shuffled the familiar deck of cards in his hands. The cards had arrived the day before, an unexpected gift from his mother, and one he would share with his friends. He couldn't understand what possessed his mother to part with them. He had a feeling it had to do with the lingering presence of the seven spectres who helped them find Chris Larabee and rid the world of the monster named Maguire.

The gambler placed the cards on the table and rubbed tired eyes. Chris had been moved into a private room earlier that morning, and had been sleeping ever since. Ezra knew it was probably due to the morphine feeding into his arm, yet there was still evidence of pain on the slack features. 'Those lines will fade, Chris, but will the memories?' he wondered as he stood up and walked to the window. He had no idea how long he looked out the window, but the opening of the door caught his attention and he turned to see Nathan and Vin enter the room.

"How's he doing, Ez?" Tanner asked softly.

"He's been sleeping since they moved him in here this morning. I'm afraid the move jarred everything and he felt pretty miserable by the time they finished the transfer."

"Sleep is the best thing for him right now," Jackson explained. "Ez, why don't you go on back to the hotel and get some rest?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Jackson."

"Ya look like crap, Ez," Tanner observed as he stood beside the bed. He picked up the deck of cards and frowned at Standish. "Where'd these come from?"

"Mother sent them to me. Have a look at the Ace of Spades."

The sharpshooter turned the deck over and spread them out on the table until he found the card in question. He showed it to the medic and smiled as he remembered the others telling him how he'd been gripping this particular card when he'd been taken to the hospital in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

"This is the card you... I mean your great, great grandfather put in my hand in Four Corners!"

"That's correct, Mr. Tanner, I thought you and the others would like to see it. Mother seems to think they should belong to us now."

"What be...longs to us?" Three sets of eyes turned to the bed as Larabee shifted uncomfortably.

"Mother sent me the deck of cards."

"What deck of..." Larabee's memory returned and he reached for the card in Vin's hand. "That's it! That's the one he gave you in Four Corners."

"Yeah, it is," the tracker agreed.

"Mr. Tanner, I do believe you were meant to have that card..."

"I can't take it, Ez. That would break up the..."

"The card was placed in your hand and it was done for a reason. Take it, Mr. Tanner, after all who am I to argue with my ancestor."

"I...I don't know."

"He's right, Vin, the card was given to you," Jackson explained.

"That card was meant to complete the deck. I can't break it up again."

"You won't be if you accept the deck as a gift," Standish said as he walked to the table and picked up he cards. "Take them, Vin, somehow I think they were always meant to be yours."

Tanner took the cards and looked into the green eyes of the gambler. He could see the deep emotions in them and nodded slightly. "I'll make sure nothing happens to them Ez."

"I know you will, Vin. I know those cards were never meant to be mine and they are now where they belong. Keep them safe, Vin, because I have a feeling they are a link to our past and maybe someday they will again help us through some trying times."

"Thanks, Ez, I'll protect them as best I can."

"There's no one else I'd rather trust them to, Mr. Tanner," Standish said, once again hiding behind his formal facade. He turned back to the bed and smiled at his leader. "Mr. Larabee, I shall leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Tanner and Mr. Jackson."

Larabee smiled back as he answered. "Thanks, Ez, I appreciate you being here. All of you!"

Standish nodded slightly and placed a hand on Larabee's shoulder. "If there's anything you need, Chris, anything at all, just ask." Larabee simply returned the gesture as the gambler turned to the others. "Good day, Mr. Jackson. Mr. Tanner."

"Make sure you get something to eat and rest, Ez," Jackson warned.

"I assure you I will," with a last nod the conman left the room. Ezra walked towards the elevator and smiled as a woman came to stand beside him. He admired the way the low cut powder blue dress seemed to enfold her body. Her long ash blond hair set off the deep blue of her eyes, but Ezra sensed something challenging in the way she held herself erect. The door opened and he held the it for her. "After you," he said graciously.

"Thank you," she said as she entered the elevator. "It's nice to know there are still gentlemen in the world," she told him as the door closed on them.

"My mother instilled the importance of being a gentleman at a very early age. Ezra Standish at your service, Ma'am."

"My name would be difficult for you to pronounce, but you can call me Pat."

"Pat," Ezra smiled as the door opened and the two got off. "Would you like to join me for a light repast at the deli across the street."

"I do have some rather pressing business, but I think I can spare enough time for coffee. My treat."

"A gentlemen does not allow a lady to pay for anything..."

"Then I shall have to turn you down. You see I am a modern woman and do not believe..."

"Pat, my Dear, why don't we compromise. I shall foot the bill for today's repast and you, if you desire to see me again, may foot the next one."

"How can I refuse such a gracious offer?" Pat asked as they walked across the street. 'Especially when it gives me access to what I want!' she thought.

Part 34

Vin turned the card over and over in his left hand, his eyes sparkling with wonder at where this card had been and how it wound up in his hands. He knew Nathan and Chris were staring at him, but his thoughts were of another time, another place, and another group of seven men.

"Penny for your thoughts, Vin."

Tanner turned to the medic and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, was just thinking of where this came from and how Chris knew where it ended up."

Larabee looked at the younger man and shook his head. "Sorry, Pard, some things are better left to the unknown. I have no idea how I knew it was back where it belonged, and I probably never will. I'd say you'd better stop trying to come up with an explanation before you end up with another headache, because you'll have more questions than answers."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Chris," the quiet man said as he placed the card back with the deck and put them in his sling.

Chris looked towards the door and frowned distastefully as an orderly came in with his lunch tray. He turned away as the tray was placed on the small table and pushed towards the bed. He heard the orderly leave and someone lifted the covers from the food.

"Chris, you have to eat."

"Not hungry right now, Nathan."

"Oh, hell, Chris, I left my choo choo..."

Larabee turned a green glare on the younger man and warned. "Don't start Tanner!"

"Chris, you need to start eating properly," Jackson explained. "Is your stomach bothering you?"

"No! I just don't feel like eating right now!"

"Nathan, can you stay with him while I go get the choo choo." Tanner's face was deadly serious as he stared at his injured friend.

Chris tried to maintain an air of anger, but the reminder of the sharpshooter's first attempt to get him to eat was too much and he started to laugh. "I owe you for this, Tanner!" he snapped as he grabbed the spoon from the tray.

"If I were Ezra, I would ask for monitory payment!"

"Ah, Hell, Vin, you gotta stop hanging around with Ezra It's bad enough listening to him drone on about monitory payment and his mother being appalled. Damn fool should cut the fuckin' apron strings and be a man!" Larabee hissed as he sipped at the light broth. The food was of little interest to him, and he could feel the anger and resentment building as he dipped the spoon in the liquid over and over.

Tanner and Jackson looked at each other as they heard the new tone in the words Larabee used. Both men knew the blond had a great deal of respect for the conman and that the latest outburst had more to do with PTSD than resentment of Ezra Standish. They were growing used to the quick change in his moods and knew the injured man was not in control of his emotions.

"Easy, Chris, Ezra's not even here. If you're gonna get angry at anyone then it should be me!"

"Don't fuckin' tell me who I can get angry with, Tanner!" Larabee said as he threw the spoon across the room.

"Chris!" Jackson called as the blond struck out at the tray on the table. The tray and everything on it lifted high in the air, spilling warm broth over the bed before it landed on the floor in a clutter of liquid and plastic dishes. Vin barely had time to move out of the way as the tray struck the back of the chair on its way down.

Green eyes swung round and glared daggers at the medic. "What, Nathan? You want me to let on like there's nothing wrong? You want me, no you tell me to eat or Vin threatens me with some Goddamned childish kid's game of choo choo! Well, hell, I just don't give a damn anymore. You want to eat that shit then you eat it be...because I'm n...not. Fuck!" he wheezed as he realized his outburst was causing his chest to tighten up on him again.

The door swung open and a nurse hurried in. "Is there a problem?" she asked, her eyes quickly surveying the mess on the floor and the defiant anger in the patient's eyes.

"No p...problem at all!" Larabee snapped and threw the blankets back. "Dammit! Nathan where the h...hell are my cl...clothes?"

"Are you planning on going somewhere, Chris?" Tanner asked calmly.

"Hell, yeah! I'm going home, Vin, and I don't mean to the hotel you boys are in! I'm going back to the ranch! I'm g...getting out of h...here be...fore Ma...Maguire..." he stopped as he realized he was about to reveal part of his nightmares he didn't want the others to know about.

"Maguire's dead, Chris!"

"I know h....he's de...dead, Nathan, but," again he grew quiet as he looked from one man to the other. "L...look, ju...just le...leave me a...alone. Okay?"

"No, Chris, it's not okay. No matter how many times you tell us to leave you alone it ain't gonna happen. You're stuck with us!" the tracker told him as he reached out and clasped his friends left arm in the familiar forearm handclasp. "No matter, what, no matter where, no matter when...remember?"

Chris Larabee's eyes widened in disbelief as he remember thinking those words, or something similar and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "Th....thanks, V...Vin." His eyes moved to include the medic. "Thanks, N...Nathan."

"You're welcome, Chris."

"Mr. Larabee," Chris turned his eyes towards the nurse. "I'm going to get your medication ready."

"O...okay," Larabee wheezed as he turned his eyes back to his friends. He heard the soft sound she made as she left the room and tried to hide the emotional pain he felt. "S...shit, can't seem to t...think about a...anything but M...Maguire."

"Chris, it might be easier if you talked it out with Dr. Carlyle?"

"Nathan's right, Chris. You need to talk to someone."

"Talk to you guys," the blond insisted.

"You can talk to us anytime, Chris, but you really need to talk about what you went through. Someone who can make you understand why you're feeling like you are," Jackson told him.

"I don't need to talk to a shrink."

"Yes you do, Chris," Tanner said. "If it'll help I'll be there as well."

"Y...you'd do t...that for m...me, Vin?" Larabee asked knowing how much Tanner hated talking to psychiatrists. The only one he trusted and opened up to at all was Susan James, but she wasn't available right now.

"Do you even have to ask?"

"N...no, guess not." He turned to the medic and saw the worry in the soulful brown eyes. "Guess y...you can c...call Car...lyle, N...Nathan," he said as the door opened and the nurse returned with the medication. It didn't take long for her to hook it up and place the mask over his mouth and nose. "Th...anks," he said gratefully.

"You're welcome, Mr. Larabee. Your call button is right here by your left hand. Just press it if you need anything. A cleaner is on the way to take care of that mess. Would you like me to put in a call for another tray?"

"N...not right n...now," Larabee answered, unaware of the worried frown on the medic's face. "Just go...gonna sl...sleep for a...while."

The nurse straightened the blankets up over him and checked the IV lines to make sure everything was as it should be. She smiled at the two men beside the bed and turned to leave.

Chris heard the cleaner come into the room, but nothing more as he finally succumbed to sleep.

"Jesus, Nathan, that bastard put him through hell!" Tanner snapped.

"Yeah, he did," Jackson said as he watched the blond woman clean the floor. Her nametag was barely visible, but Nathan was able to pick it out. "Hang on, Pat, let me move the chair out of the way," Jackson said.

"Thank you," the cleaner said as she glanced at the man on the bed. 'You'll pay,' she thought as she finished the job and hurried out of the private room. She returned the cart to the utility closet and hurried towards the elevator before anyone who knew her saw her. She stepped into the elevator and smiled as she reached up and pulled the clips from her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders, laughing at the ease with which she'd entered his room. She left the elevator and shivered as she turned towards the corner of the basement. She blinked until her eyes focused and dismissed the vision she'd caught sight of, knowing there was no way she'd seen a young man in a dark bowler style hat and dark clothing. She hurried to her car, knowing she'd have to hurry in order to keep her dinner date with Ezra Standish.

The form shimmered and winked out, but not before green eyes sent daggers into the woman's back, and smiled as she shivered again. There was nothing they could do to stop what was going to happen. Yet the seven men from Four Corners would do everything in their power to ensure their descendants lived through the trying times ahead of them.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra sat in the tiny French restaurant and smiled at the woman seated across from him. Elegant white lace tablecloths adorned the tables, a burgundy runner ran down the center, placed in the middle was a bouquet of lilies and roses. A single pale pink candle cast a warm glow over the sparkling silver and crystal goblets. His date was dressed in a simple brown skirt and white sweater, yet, the gambler thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight bun and a small spray of baby's breath was tucked into the right side.

Dinner had been quiet, but not uncomfortable as the two people enjoyed the fine wine, filet mignon, garlic mashed potatoes, and baby carrots in a creamy butter sauce. Strawberries and cream topped off the meal and the couple simply smiled at each other across the table.

Ezra took a deep breath, realizing he still didn't know this woman's full name, yet it didn't bother him as it leant an air of mystery to her. He smiled across the table at her and loved the way the candlelight danced off her eyes.

"Pat, I..."

"Ezra, I..."

They laughed as the words came out at exactly the same time.

"You first," Pat told him.

"No, ladies first."

Her eyebrows rose and she laughed as she placed her spoon on the table beside the half eaten strawberries. She folded her hands in front of her and smiled sweetly at him as he raised the glass of wine. "What makes you think I'm a lady?"

Ezra coughed and choked on the smooth liquid, grabbing his napkin in an effort to catch the spray before it left his mouth.

"Are you all right?" Pat asked sweetly.

"Yes...yes...I assure you I am perfectly fine."

"Was it something I said?"

"No..."

"I apologize if I offended you, Ezra, that was not my intent at all. I assure you that I am a lady, but ladies do need to let their hair down once in a while."

Ezra nodded, still not sure if he could speak or not. "Yes, they do."

Pat looked at her watch and then at the man across from her. "I'm afraid I have to call it a night, Ezra. I promised a sick friend..."

"The one in the hospital?"

Pat hid her eyes and nodded slowly. "Yes," she said softly.

"I do hope everything will work out for her...him..."

"Him," she said as she lifted her eyes to meet his. "He's been hurt rather badly and in spite of being moved out of ICU things do not look good for him."

"Then why did they take him out of ICU?"

"Because there is nothing else they can do for him. He is going to die and there's nothing anyone can do about it!" She lifted tear filled eyes and looked at the man who was unwittingly giving her access to the information she so wanted.

Ezra reached across the table and touched her fingers. "I'm sorry about your friend, and I do hope that things turn out differently than expected."

"They won't," she said softly. "What about you, Ezra? Who are you visiting in the hospital?"

"A very dear friend. A man I have come to admire for his trust and loyalty and treatment of others!" He pulled his hand back and clenched his fists as anger forced him to control his emotions.

"What happened to him?"

"I can't go into details, but suffice it to say he was tortured by a sadistic Bas...man and..."

"Oh, Dear," Pat had to force back her own emotions as she looked at her date. "Was the man caught?" 'If not maybe I can find him and we can team up on Chris Larabee,' she thought.

"The animal is dead and will not hurt anyone else like this."

"Will your friend be okay?"

"Chris is strong and he'll get through this. It may take some time..."

She smiled inwardly as she listened to his voice, but didn't hear the words. 'He may be strong, but strong men can be brought to their knees. Your friend will pay for crossing me!' She knew Larabee was not the only reason for her loss of the job at the hospital, but for now he was the nearest and easiest target for her wrath. She knew he'd stopped talking and met his gaze once more.

"I'm sorry, Ezra, I was thinking about someone."

"Your friend in the hospital?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, I just don't feel like talking anymore. Perhaps we can meet again when our friends are feeling better," she said as she took the check and placed a credit card on the tray.

"Allow me..."

"No, we agreed that this would be my treat." She passed the tray to the waiter and smiled at the handsome man seated opposite her.

Part 35

It was 9:15 when Ezra opened the door to Larabee's room and entered as silently as possible. He spotted Nathan and JD seated beside the bed and smiled as he walked towards them. The three men looked at the sleeping man and bid each other goodnight. They'd been given special permission to stay with Larabee through the night. The victory had been hard fought, but with the help of Barrett and Carlyle the hospital agreed that the injured man would be better off with company. The nightmares continued to plague Larabee and he would often wake up in a cold sweat and trembling all over. The psychiatrist advised the board that his patient, although he had yet to speak with him, would deal with those nightmares a lot easier if his friends were around.

The gambler would be spending the night with Larabee, and a fold out chair had been pushed into the room. Ezra watched as Dunne and Jackson eased out of the room before settling in for the nightly vigil. He looked at the patient, illuminated only by the tiny nightlight on the opposite wall, and realized the bruises and swelling were finally fading, but Larabee's face was far from restful. His head would move from side to side, the tube leading from the nasal canulas sometimes tangling in the sheets.

'So much to deal with, my friend,' he thought as he watched the blond shiver and try to pull the thin sheet up over him. Ezra stood up and moved to the foot of the bed. He lifted the flannel blanket and unfolded it, gently easing it up over the trembling body. He turned to walk towards the window, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned back to the bed just as a pair of glazed green eyes opened and fought to focus on him.

"Thanks, Ez," Larabee said, the sadness in his voice tearing at the man standing over him.

"You're welcome, Mr. Larabee. How are you feeling?"

"Not really sure," the blond winced as he shifted and stiff muscles protested the new mistreatment.

Standish saw the truth in his leader's eyes and wished he could do something for him. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Just some water."

"No problem." The gambler reached for the pitcher of water and poured some into the glass, adding a straw in an effort to make it easier on the other man.

Larabee took the cup and again thanked the con artist. He sank back against the pillow and asked softly. "How was the date?"

Ezra smiled as he realized he'd been expecting the question. Larabee had been the one to convince him to go out with the pretty blond and had even gone so far as to order him to do so. When that hadn't worked the blond had used blackmail by saying that he was ruining things for everyone. He pulled his chair to the bed and watched as his friend drank more of the water.

"The date, Mr. Larabee, was absolutely wonderful. Pat is a lovely lady and I'm hopeful that we'll see more of each other."

"That's great, Ez. Nice to see someone besides Buck getting the girl."

Standish laughed softly as he saw the twinkle in the injured man's eyes. "Ah, but I have a feeling I may not be the only one who could end up with the girl," he said conspiratorially.

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw the way Anne looked at you while you were under her care. Oh, she retained an air of professionalism, but I believe that she may visit you on her own now that you are not her patient any more and..."

"Ez, Anne was just doing her job," a slight flush ran across his cheeks as he remembered her gentle touch when she removed the foley.

"We shall see, Mr. Larabee," Standish said and then smiled. "Would you like to make a wager on whether Anne Sheridan pays you a visit?"

The blond perked up a little at the thought of the pretty nurse and nodded slowly. "What kind of wager are we talking here?"

"Hmm, Let's see if I win you accompany me on my next visit to see mother and if..."

"Ah, hell, Ezra, you know me and Maude don't get along."

"But that's what makes it an interesting wager." The conman's eyebrows rose as he watched the blond's face, sensing he'd baited the trap perfectly. "And if you win..."

"You have to clean out the stables at my ranch everyday for a month..."

"A month? That seems a bit long..."

"Not when you consider what you're asking me to do," this time it was the blond who sensed the trap closing. " So do we have a bet?"

"Hmm, since it was my idea I shall agree to your wager." He watched as Larabee struggled to keep his eyes open and reached out to take the glass form the injured man's hand. "I do believe it is time for you to get some rest, my friend."

"Yeah, you might be right, Ez. Thanks..."

"For what?"

"For being here. For being a friend."

"Mr. Larabee, for that you do not need to thank me. I assure you it is my pleasure to keep you company while you convalesce within the confines of this medical center. Sleep well and do not worry, Chris, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

By the time the night nurse came into the room to change the IVs and check on her patient, both men were sleeping soundly. She eased back out the door and missed the green eyes opening.

Chris lay awake and listened to the soft snoring of the man lying on the uncomfortable bed. He'd slept a little, but again memories of his ordeal in the chamber invaded his dreams and left him trembling and cold. He stared at the ceiling and let his thoughts run where they wanted, good and bad mixed together until silent tears streamed from his eyes. He bit his lip in an effort to stop any sounds from escaping his throat and used the blanket to wipe away any evidence of his emotions. He knew Carlyle would be coming to see him in the morning, but he wasn't sure if he could open up to the man. He turned on his side and tried to ward off the fear and anxiety which mingled to keep him awake, but his attempts were unsuccessful as more tears dropped onto his pillow.

'Goddamn you, Maguire,' he thought as he struggled to get past the numbing pain the memories caused him. Pulling the blankets up further in an attempt to get warm he missed Ezra's worried gaze as the gambler turned towards him.

Ezra knew there was nothing he could do to sooth Larabee's fears or his pain, and to acknowledge that he'd heard would only cause the blond more anguish. Chris had always been a private man and didn't like others to see his emotions, but there were times when those emotions were hard to hide. 'It will get better, Chris, it'll just take some time.' He listened as the blond's breathing eased and the soft sounds stopped and knew his friend was finally asleep. He lay in the darkness, praying that things really would be all right for the two injured men.

+ + + + + + +

Barrett opened the door and entered the room to find two sleeping men. One was resting easy, unaware of the other being locked in some kind of nightmare. The concerned doctor hurried to the bed and placed a hand on his patient's shoulder. He felt the silent tremors as Larabee's eyes slowly opened and turned towards the soft touch. Barrett saw the pain and knew it had more to do with whatever nightmare Larabee had been having than actually physical pain.

"Maguire?" he asked softly so as not to wake up the room's other occupant.

Larabee swallowed and slowly nodded as he pressed the button to raise his head slightly. "Yeah, son of a bitch may be dead, but..."

"He's still in your dreams," Barrett finished.

"Yeah. Can't seem to make the bastard go away."

"It might help if you talked about it."

"So they tell me. Carlyle is supposed to be down in an hour."

"Lee is a good man, Chris, and he'll be able to help you through all of this."

"Will he?" Larabee asked doubtfully.

"If you'll let him he will. He's one of the few people I know who has the ability to listen to what you want, and offer advice without pushing."

"Sounds like you're talking from experience."

"Lee and I have talked."

"As a friend or as a professional?"

Barrett looked into the hopeful green eyes and answered. "Both. I've been where you are, Chris, and I know the value of talking it through with someone, whether it's a friend or a professional. I have a feeling it's harder to talk it over with friends because of the emotional involvement. Lee and I didn't become friends until long after we spoke professionally."

"What happened to you?" Larabee asked and realized he was asking the man about his private life. "Sorry, Doc, I don't mean to pry!"

"That's okay, Chris. I won't go into details, but I will tell you I've been through a painful experience, but it's in the past now..."

"Does it ever go away?"

Barrett knew how important it was to be truthful about what to expect and he leaned heavily against the bed rail. "I'd be lying to you if I gave you the answer you want to hear, Chris."

Larabee was grateful for the honest answer and nodded as he looked at the sympathetic face. "Is it any easier to deal with?"

"Y...yeah. It is, but it will always be part of you. The trick is to take it and make it be a good part of you. To deal with what was done to you and to make damn sure it doesn't destroy the man you are in here!" the doctor pointed to his patient's chest. "I don't know a lot about you, but I have the impression that you're a man who doesn't take defeat easily and I have a feeling your friends are going to be the ones to help you through this. They seem like the type of friends everyone should have."

"Yeah, Doc, they are," Larabee said as he looked towards the sleeping man. he knew Standish was awake, yet the man was leaving him his privacy. Chris knew anything the gambler overheard would stay in this room. "I just don't tell them often enough."

Barrett smiled as he followed the injured man's gaze. "Guess maybe they already know how you feel about them, Chris, or they wouldn't be here for you."

"Yeah, I can be a real bastard sometimes, but for some reason they seem to think I'm worth being around."

"You are, Chris," Standish said as he swung his legs over the side of the folding chair. "Don't ever forget that."

"Thanks, Ez."

"There's nothing to thank me for." Standish said as he stretched and walked the short distance to the bed.

"Chris, I want to check you over before breakfast arrives."

"Alright, Doc. Ez, why don't you go get some breakfast."

"I assure you I am fine."

"Ez," Larabee persisted. "I'm not going anywhere. "At least go get a coffee or something."

"This will take a while, Mr. Standish. Go get something and we should be done when you get back," Barrett said as the day nurse came into the room.

"I won't be long, Chris."

"Don't rush it. I'm not going anywhere." Larabee smiled as the conman left the room.

"Alright, Chris, let's take a look at you," Barrett said as the nurse stood on the opposite side of the bed. "Sandy, would you bring me a dressing tray."

"Yes, Dr. Barrett," the nurse said.

Chris sank back against the pillow as the doctor did a thorough job of examining his injuries, starting with the shoulder wound. He winced as the doctor probed the surrounding area, and was glad to hear there was no sign of infection. He kept his eyes closed as they worked their way down his body. Gently touching the healing wounds and fading bruises.

"Chris, I need to sit you up a little more and listen to your lungs," Barrett said.

"O...okay," Larabee bit his lip as he was eased upwards and felt the cold stethoscope on his back. He listened to the doctor's orders and was grateful when he was finally eased back down. The room was spinning and his stomach churned as he tried to breathe through the pain of his wounds.

"All done, Chris. Sandy is going to get your breakfast and the Zoloft to help your stomach."

"Th...thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome and I'll see you tomorrow."

Chris heard the doctor walking away and opened his eyes. "Doc."

Barrett turned back to his patient and waited for Larabee to speak.

"Any chance of getting rid of the morphine pump?"

"Not for another day or so, Chris. I don't want you in more pain than you already are."

"Ah, hell, doc, I hate the heavy drugs."

"So I heard..."

"From who?"

"I've been talking to your doctor in Billings. She said to tell you to listen to your doctor and stop trying to be so, and I'm quoting her here, 'Damn macho all the time'."

Larabee couldn't help but smile as he thought of the woman who took care of The Firm's agents whenever they ended up at Saint Vincents. "Damn woman thinks she knows what's best for me!"

"I'd say she does know," he said as Sandy came into the room with a covered tray and a syringe. "Make sure you rest, Chris, and if you need to talk..." He didn't finish the offer, but he knew Larabee understood.

"Thanks, Doc, I will." The door closed and Chris turned to watch the nurse place the syringe into the juncture in the IV line. She finished injecting the medication and disposed of it in the proper box before walking towards the door.

"Just press the button if you need anything, Mr. Larabee."

"I will," the blond said as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

******Chris frowned as he opened his eyes and looked around the room. Something was wrong, but at first he couldn't place what it was. He pressed the button on the rail and slowly raised the head of the bed until he could look around the darkness. 'Dark? Shouldn't be this dark!' he thought as he realized that was where the problem lay. He'd fallen asleep as soon as the nurse left and there was no way he would've slept through the day. Fear gripped his heart and his chest tightened as he sat forward. He sucked air into his lungs, but there didn't seem to be enough and his head began to swim. He heard a sound on his right and turned just as something struck against his hip and he screamed as the agonizing fire rose to engulf his body. He swallowed against the pain and stared into the face of the man who'd made his life a living hell. 'No! Goddamn you! You can't hurt me anymore! You're dead you bastard!'

'If I'm dead then why can I do this, Christopher?' Maguire asked as he lifted the crowbar and once more brought it towards Larabee's hip.

'NO!'******

+ + + + + + +

The sight that met Ezra's eyes when he re-entered Larabee's room ten minutes after the nurse left tore at the gambler's heart. Chris was gasping for breath and thrashing on the bed. The breakfast tray flew into the air as Larabee's left hand connected with the table and drove it away.

"NO!"

The conman heard the terrified cry and turned towards the desk. "Get someone in here now!" he shouted as he hurried towards the bed. "Chris, it's not real! Listen to me! Listen to my voice!"

*******

'Listen to me, Mr. Larabee. He can't hurt you unless you let him. You...We killed him. Remember?'

'Ez! Killed him....we killed him. He's dead...Maguire's dead?' Larabee asked the man standing beside the bed.

'That's right, Mr. Larabee, he's dead and you can send him away anytime you wish. Listen to your friend calling you and this monster will disappear back to hell where he belongs.'********

"Come on, Chris, open your eyes."

"What's going on?" Carlyle asked as he entered the room. He'd been on his way to speak with this patient when Standish called for help.

"He's caught up in another damn nightmare!" Standish said as Larabee's thrashing continued.

"According to his chart this could be another flashback. Have you been able to get through to him?"

"This is not a flashback!" Standish hissed. "It's a nightmare. He's been having them all along. Granted this one is a little more violent than the others, but it is a nightmare and you people are not putting him in restraints again."

"Restraints will only be used if all else fails," Carlyle said as the door opened and two men hurried into the room.

Part 36

'Fuck you, Maguire! You can't hurt me or anyone I care about!'

'That's where you're wrong, Christopher. As long as you have the slightest doubt I will be able to haunt you forever.'

Two men joined Standish and Larabee smiled as he looked at Maguire. 'Guess this is goodbye you Bastard, because I have no more doubts! YOU CAN'T HURT ME OR ANYONE ELSE! Go back to hell where you belong!' Chris smiled at the three men standing in the shadows as Maguire faded once more. 'Thanks, boys!' he said as the nightmare slowly receded.

"What's going on, Ez?" Tanner and Wilmington asked in unison as they hurried to the bed.

"Another nightmare," Standish answered.

Tanner reached out and touched his friend's left shoulder and spoke softly. "Hey, Cowboy, ain't nothin' to have nightmares about anymore. We're here and we got your back."

"Yeah, Chris, it's time to let the nightmares go," Wilmington said as he watched the eyelids flutter and finally open over the green eyes.

"Thanks, Boys," he echoed the words he'd used on the same three men who eased him from Maguire's nightmarish grip.

"Must've been some dream," Standish observed.

"Yeah, it was, but it had it's good points too," Larabee said, remembering the feeling of unity from his friends, both waking and dreaming.

"Mr. Larabee, I'm..."

"Dr. Carlyle. I think I owe you an apology, Doc."

"No, Mr. Larabee, you don't. Your reaction was very understandable given the circumstances. Do you feel like talking about your experience?"

"Y...yeah, I think so, Doc." The blond turned to the three men in the room. "You boys don't have to..."

"Not going anywhere," Wilmington stated.

"We're here for the duration, Mr. Larabee," Standish offered.

"Can't get rid of us that easily, Chris," Tanner told him.

Chris felt the warmth of the words and knew nothing he said could run these men off. He nodded and turned to the doctor. " What would you like to know?"

Wilmington pulled a chair up to the bed and indicated that Vin should sit down. He smiled as the door opened and Dunne, Jackson, and Sanchez entered the room. "Looks like the gang's all here, Pard!" he said as he looked at Larabee.

Chris was not surprised to see the others show up just when he was about to talk about his ordeal. He knew no one had called them and understood that the unexplained happenings of the last few weeks were continuing and would until Maguire was in the past, and injuries were healed. He looked from one man to the other and his eyes came to rest on the doctor. He swallowed against the raging emotions, trying to keep them inside, yet he knew his friends would not see it as weakness if he gave into them. He watched as Jackson filled up a glass and handed it to him. Chris smiled, drank the ice cold water, and took a deep breath as the doctor pulled up a second chair.

"Why don't we start at the beginning, Mr. Larabee..."

"Chris."

He saw the hesitation in Larabee's eyes and knew the younger man was still having trouble with the idea of talking about his experience with a stranger. Carlyle understood how important it was to have these six men in the room at this time. These men were there for more than moral support, they were there for their strength. "Chris, you just take your time and we'll get you through this."

Larabee sipped at the water again and nodded his thanks. He turned towards Vin Tanner and anger flared in his eyes. "The son of a bitch said you were d...dead, V...Vin." Tanner's hand inched across the blankets and touched his friend's arm, sending strength through the contact. Larabee nodded gratefully as he continued. "There was so much b...blood I...I...knew he was right, b...but I couldn't m...move. M...Maguire said he'd given me a sedative...wouldn't let me touch you...T...tried to get to you, Vin, but he ground his heel into my hand. Maguire and another m...man dragged me to the horses," he said as he met the sharpshooter's eyes. "Wanted to help you, Vin, but the bastards wouldn't let me go. I re...member trying to crawl back to you...knowing I had to help, but...they wouldn't let me...tied me to the fucking horse and rode away. Left you there to die, Vin. I LEFT YOU THERE TO DIE!"

"No you didn't, Chris. You just said they gave you a sedative and tied you to a horse," Tanner explained softly.

"I should've been able to do something...should've been able to stop them."

"Chris, you're not at fault here," Jackson told his friend.

"Listen to your friend, Chris, it wasn't your..."

"How the hell do you know?" Larabee spat as warring emotions ran rampant through his mind. "How the fuck do any of you know? I saw Vin shot...I heard that bastard say that he was dead and I couldn't do a damn thing about it! I just left him there in the boiling sun and let his blood run out of his body!"

Carlyle watched as the six men moved in to surround Larabee. He heard them telling the injured man there was nothing he could've done once Maguire drugged him. He heard the soft hiss from the blond as the other men's words of comfort washed over him. Carlyle understood that this would be the true source of Larabee's healing, that these men had some kind of bond that could not be explained. He let them talk and sat back, letting the power of true friendship seal the bond.

"Ain't never left me behind, Cowboy, you've always been here and always will be. Did you really think I was dead? Deep down, in here, where it counts!" Tanner asked as he pointed to Larabee's chest and head.

"N...no...I knew you were there. Kept feeling you, but Maguire kept taunting me. You know what got me through? What kept me alive?"

"What, Brother?" Sanchez asked.

"I knew you guys wouldn't let me quit. We got a bond that goes way back and that's something that can't be broken no matter what Maguire tries....tried."

"That's right, Chris...Tried. Maguire is dead and won't be a problem anymore," Wilmington assured him.

Larabee nodded and looked gratefully at his friends as he continued with his story. "We left Four Corner and ended up at some old shack," he smiled and looked up at his friends. "I think that old shack belonged to my great, great, grandfather."

"You might be right about that, Chris," Tanner said as a picture of the little piece of heaven flashed in his mind. He'd never seen the place, but something told him his own ancestor had spent many good times there.

"I d...don't remember much after that. Maguire and his buddy held me down and he shot me with some kind of drug. Think he said it was something from the nightshade p...plant, but that he added some other things to it. He s...said it wouldn't kill me...although I thought I was going to die when it raced through me....felt hot and cold at the same time. Bastards just l...laughed at me. Started seeing things that I knew couldn't be there, but it didn't make it any easier. I... I remember being forced onto a plane, but all I could see was that shark..."

"Shark?" Vin asked and saw the sorrow in Buck's eyes.

"Remember it, Buck?"

"Yeah, I remember it, Chris." Wilmington turned away as he too was caught up in the painful memory of an earlier time in their lives. A time that started out as dream come true and ended in a nightmare that nearly cost Chris his legs and his life.

"You sent that son of a bitch to hell too."

"Yeah, we did. Hopefully he was waiting there for Maguire."

"That'd be the perfect end for the two of 'em," Larabee said as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Remind me to tell you guys about the shark me and Buck caught. Damn thing wasn't very happy and tried to bite my leg off. Buck stopped him though," Larabee laughed as he thought back on the painful incident. "Punched the sonofabitch and when he didn't let go Buck used a hook and pulled the damn thing away and threw him back in the ocean. I remember laughing so hard at Buck punching the thing, but the pain hit soon after." He grew quiet for a few seconds and the others thought he'd fallen asleep until his quiet voice began speaking again. "Sorry, Doc, got a little sidetracked there."

"That's okay, Chris, you talk about anything you want to."

"I remember waking up in the dessert with the sun beating down on me and not being able to think clearly..."

"Probably because of the drug you'd been given," Jackson supplied.

"Yeah, it was. Found a tape recorder beside me and turned it on. It was Maguire telling me we were going to play a game called Cat and Mouse. He told me Vin was dead and that I could get revenge for that if I made it to help. There was a canteen and I drank from it and began running. D...don't know h...how long or w...where to, but I ran and ran. Saw things that couldn't have b...been there, but that didn't matter. For me it was real...real and terrifying..." Larabee's left fist clenched the blanket tightly as he relived the wild run through the desert. He knew the others understood how hard this was for him and were letting him talk it through at his own pace. "Saw more things that I knew weren't there, but they were and I knew something was wrong with the FUCKING WATER..." Chris reached for the glass of water and uncertainty took over as he looked at it. He knew it was safe to drink, but the memories of the tainted water was still fresh on his mind. He turned to the tracker, tears glistening in his eyes. "That's when I saw you, Vin...thought you must really be dead, but..."

"It wasn't me, was it?"

"It was and it wasn't. I...I thought it must've been you, but there was something different..."

"The buckskin clothing," Standish filled in.

"Yeah, that was it," Larabee agreed. "Knew it couldn't be you because of the buckskins. Although they did suit you." The blond smiled thinly as he looked around the room, amazed that the six faces he saw were so much like the seven peacekeepers from the long dead town of Four Corners.

"Maybe I'll start wearin' 'em on special occasions," Tanner said.

"Nah, stick with the jeans and the leather jacket, Tanner," Larabee insisted.

"Have to agree with Chris, Vin. No Buckskins," Dunne agreed.

"I wouldn't talk, Kid, you'd better stay away from derby hats 'cause they don't suit you," the sharpshooter said and they all laughed.

Chris grew serious again as the laughter died away. "It wasn't you, Vin, but he told me you were alive and that I had to stay alive for my friends. I think that's what kept me going...knowing you guys were out there searching for me. I knew you wouldn't give up and I couldn't give up either."

"Glad you didn't, Pard," Wilmington said.

"Thanks, Buck." Larabee said and turned to see the doctor watching him. "Kept running... had no choice. Seems like every time I stopped I'd hear gunshots and I knew I was being herded. I...it was hot...scorching...felt like I was burning up, least until night came. Then it just got so damn cold...and I did...didn't mind running 'cause it kept me warm..." He closed his eyes and shivered on the bed. He felt his friends watching him and knew they were there for a reason, to help get him through this and help him get past everything. "I don't know how long I ran, but I saw something moving and I edged towards it." A glimmer of a cocky grin formed on his face as he continued with his story. "I stumbled and hoped whoever it was would think I hadn't seen them. I got lucky and the sonofabitch wasn't expecting me and suddenly I was the cat and he was the mouse. We fought for who knows how long and he pulled out a knife. The damn thing was between us and I swear I don't know where I got the strength, but I beat him at his own game and d...drove it into h...him. I didn't get a ch...chance to see if he was dead because Maguire started firing at me. I r...ran...ran as fast as I could until I came to this old house. A woman was there and s...she a...agreed to help me...called you, J'siah, but there was no answer," Larabee said tiredly and saw the guilt cross the blue eyes.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, Chris. I didn't get your message until the next day," Sanchez said.

"I don't blame you, Josiah, and neither should you."

"Thanks, Brother," Sanchez said of Larabee's words.

"No need for thanks, except for me thanking you guys for coming after me."

"What else would you expect, Mr. Larabee. You're always the first one to come after one of us," Standish told him.

Larabee smiled again as a yawn formed on his face and he looked at his friends sheepishly. "Sorry, been doing that a lot lately."

"Chris, do you want to rest or..."

"No, Doc, need to do this now. Otherwise I might just blow up like I did earlier and the boys can tell you about my temper."

"Temper?" Jackson said sarcastically. "What temper?"

They laughed again and Larabee looked at the medic. "Thanks, Nathan." He took a deep breath, coughed, and continued with his story. "Didn't have time to talk long as Maguire showed up. He killed the woman and the next thing I knew I woke up t...tied up in that fuckING," his voice rose as he pictured the darkened interior of the chamber, and the hated figure standing there. "MINE!"

"Easy, Chris," Tanner said.

"Bastard just kept finding new ways to torture me, but you know what, Vin?"

"What?"

"I got through it because of seven men from our past and because of you guys. Kept seeing you and hearing you. Especially that poem, the one you gave me after W...Wilcox died," Larabee closed his eyes and recited the words that continued to give him strength.

'What I offer seems pale in return,
A vow that blood couldn't make stronger.
It's given with newfound pride and honor,
You are forever my brother, I am alone no longer."

Do you r...remember those w...words, Vin."

"I remember them, Chris."

"I h...heard your voice s...saying them and w...wouldn't let that b...bastard take your strength a...away from me! D...dammit!" Larabee wheezed painfully. "S...sorry."

"Just concentrate on breathing, Chris," Jackson said as Carlyle hurried to the door.

"S...shit, h...hate th...this," he said as his breathing grew worse and he began to cough. He closed his eyes as pain erupted through his body and his chest constricted as the air seemed to be cut off from his lungs. He heard the worried voices of his friends, but didn't have the energy to answer them. He fought to hold on to consciousness as he felt his head lifted slightly and a mask placed over his mouth and nose. He breathed deeply of the cool mist, opened his eyes for a second, but finally gave in to the call of sleep with six anxious men watching over him.

"Doc?" Jackson asked.

"Chris did very well, Mr. Jackson. He talked about the things that happened and that'll help him past a lot of it. I can tell you he's far from over the experience, but I believe it'll be you gentlemen that will help him put it behind him. I'm going to schedule a couple of more sessions with him, but I'd also like you men to let him talk things through with you if he feels up to it. Don't stop him from talking..."

"We'd never do that, Dr. Carlyle," Jackson told him as the nurse checked the settings before leaving he room.

"I didn't think so, but you would be surprised at how many patients try to talk to family and friends about what they went through. Most of the time the family and friends can't face the reality of the horrors the victim faced. Their own fears making them turn away from someone who really needs them, leaving the victim to face it alone."

"I assure you, Mr. Larabee will not be asked to discontinue with his revelations about his experiences. We're here for the duration!" Standish informed the doctor.

"Chris is a lucky man to have the six of you."

"That goes both ways Dr. Carlyle," Sanchez said softly as he looked down at the sleeping man. "We're lucky we all met. It was destiny, now and then," he whispered as he turned tired eyes on the other men.

"Yeah, destiny," Dunne agreed.

"Destiny or not, you gentlemen have proven that you are family. If there's nothing else I have a couple of other patients I need to see."

"Doc, he will be okay, won't he?" Wilmington asked.

"I believe he's going to be just fine and not because of anything I do. Gentlemen, take care of yourselves and you'll go a long way to taking care of Chris' problems."

"Thanks, Doc, we will," Jackson assured him. They watched the man leave and turned back to the sleeping patient.

"Nathan, how do you think he did?" Tanner asked.

Jackson was used to these men asking his opinion on medical matters. The men knew he wasn't a doctor, but for some reason none of them could explain, they trusted his words more than they trusted the professional medical personnel. He realized it had more to do with how well he knew each of them. Their likes and dislikes, their backgrounds, and the stubborn streak that seemed to be ingrained in all of them. That streak kept all of them alive at one time or another.

"Chris opened up about what he went through, Vin, and that's a good thing..."

"But..."

"But he still needs to talk about how he feels about it. He's gotta let the anger out before he can let Maguire go completely and that's where we're gonna come into it. We let him talk, we let him rant, we let him scream if that's what he wants to do. If he wants to cry we let him do that too, and we give him a shoulder to cry on. He made it through the ordeal with Wilcox, and I really think he'll get through this one as well, and we've got one thing going for us that we didn't have with Wilcox."

"He trusts Vin and won't shut him out," Sanchez said simply.

"That's right," Jackson said as he looked at the sad eyes of the soft-spoken Texan. He knew they were talking about an experience they all wanted to forget, but it would always be a part of who they were. He saw the lines of pain on the haggard face and knew Tanner had overdone it again. "Vin, you need to lie down for a while."

"I'm okay, Nathan," the tracker assured him.

"Mr. Tanner, have you looked in a mirror recently. I'm afraid your reflection would surprise even you," Standish told him.

"Ezra, you need to go to the hotel and get some rest yourself," Wilmington told him, noting the bloodshot eyes and the slump of the younger man's shoulders.

"I assure you..."

"That you'll go to the hotel, get something to eat and go to sleep," Sanchez interrupted before the conman had a chance to finish.

"Come on, Ez, I'll go with you," Dunne told him.

"I don't need an escort, Mr. Dunne."

"Maybe not, but ya got one," the youngest member of the team said as he held the door open for the gambler.

"Bye, Ez," Tanner said.

"Oh the indignity of having to..."

"Take orders from a younger man," JD laughed as the door closed behind them.

"Now, Vin, you need to lie down before you fall down," Jackson reiterated.

"I'm fine!"

"Vin, that line's getting old," Wilmington said as he straightened out the blankets on the fold away chair. "Now get your scrawny ass over here and lie down."

"Ain't got a scrawny ass!" Tanner staggered towards the chair. "Thanks," he said as the ex-preacher grabbed his arm and steadied him.

"You're welcome, Son," Sanchez said and eased the sharpshooter onto the chair and gently placed him back on the pillows. He smiled as Wilmington pulled the warm blankets over the injured man.

"Thanks, Bucklin, make a good m...mama," Tanner mumbled tiredly.

Half an hour later Sanchez sat alone in the room with the two injured men. Nathan and Buck had gone to the deli across the street to get lunch and would be bringing something back for him and Vin. His eyes roamed from one sleeping form to the other. Both so different and yet they'd come together and found a bond that could only have been destiny. A bond so strong that it seemed to give them insight into what the other was thinking or doing. A bond that had saved their lives more often than he could count. 'Brothers, maybe not by blood, but there's more than blood involved with you two. The good Lord meant for you to find each other, and by so doing, bringing together this strange group I call my family,' he thought and settled back to keep vigil over the two men.

Part 37

Chris heard voices talking quietly and smiled as he listened to the soft tones. The oxygen mask had been removed and nasal canulas were back in place. For the first time since the ordeal had begun his dreams were not nightmares and his sleep had been restful instead of forced. He finally opened his eyes and turned his head towards the men talking across the room.

Vin was the first to notice the green eyes looking towards them and he smiled. "Hey, Cowboy, how're you doing?"

Larabee smiled as he reached for the buttons on the side of his bed and pressed the button to raise his head slightly. "Better, Vin, much better," the blond answered honestly.

"That's great news, Pard," Wilmington said as he joined the two men at the bed.

"What are you guys eating?" Larabee asked as he looked towards Sanchez and Jackson.

"Sandwiches..." Tanner answered

"Smells like hot corned beef," Larabee smiled as his stomach rumbled. "I want one!"

"Chris..."

"Nathan, I'm starved..."

"I'll have the nurse bring your tray..."

"Ah, hell, Nathan, I said I was hungry not crazy. Come on..."

"Not yet, Chris. You're still on a soft diet, at least for the rest of the day. If Dr. Barrett okays it we'll bring you a sandwich tomorrow." Jackson left the room in search of Larabee's lunch tray.

"Shit!"

"Chris, Nathan's right. You need to eat what they bring you."

"Hell, Buck, not you too."

"Afraid so, Pard, at least until the doc okays it."

"Jesus, Vin, just hand me a little..."

"Okay, Chris, let's just say Vin gives you a little piece of the sandwich and you eat it. Now you haven't had anything solid in your stomach in over a week and even the liquids are only staying down because of that nausea medication they're giving you. Right?"

"Yeah, Josiah, but I'm hungry."

"I know you are and I apologize for bringing the food in here. We thought you'd be sleeping for quite a while yet. Buck, if you would take it out to the lounge..."

Larabee shook his head as he looked at the three men. "Don't. I may not be allowed to eat it, but nothing says I can't enjoy the smell," he said as Jackson returned.

"Chris, Sandy placed a call to have a tray sent up for you."

"Thanks, Nathan," Larabee said. "You guys go ahead and eat before it gets cold." He closed his eyes and relaxed as the aroma washed over him. He knew the others were still watching him and he smiled once more. "It's really okay, Boys, go ahead and eat, but Nathan..."

"Yes, Chris."

"I'll be expecting hot corned beef on rye..."

"As soon as the doctor okays it, I'll get you the biggest damn sandwich they make," Jackson assured him.

"Pickles, but let's not do hot peppers, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan, Cowboy," Tanner agreed.

"You guys go ahead and enjoy it. I'm just gonna rest my eyes for a bit."

"You do that, Brother," Sanchez said as they moved away from the bed. The four men ate in silence and listened to the soft breathing from their injured friend. Each man realized there'd been something missing from Larabee's face. Somehow they knew the nightmares that plagued him were not present during his last sleep period. Things were finally turning around and it seemed that Chris was well on the way to regaining his health.

Ezra smiled as he looked towards the door and back at the man in the bed. He leaned forward as the newcomer entered the room and whispered softly. "I'm afraid you will have to make good on our wager, Mr. Larabee."

"Huh? What?" He forced his eyes open and turned to see the beautiful woman enter the room. Anne's auburn hair hung over her shoulders, adding to the warmth and beauty of her face. She wore a pale green blouse and blue jeans, that hugged her hips and heightened the curves of her body. "H...hi," he stammered as he sat further up in the bed, wincing as the movement shot pain through his hip.

"Hi, Chris, I just stopped by to see how you're doing," Anne said softly.

"Mr. Larabee, I find I am in need of some nourishment. Miss Sheridan, it is nice to see you again."

"You too, Ezra."

"I shall be back in half an hour. Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Larabee?"

"Yeah, that sandwich..."

"Ah, Chris, you know I can't do that. Doctor Barrett said to give it another day or so."

"I won't tell..."

"I will," Anne said as she placed her hands on her hips and faced her former patient. "Chris, you need to listen to what your doctor says."

"Hell, don't seem to have much choice," Larabee said, a cocky grin on his face.

"I'll return shortly, Mr. Larabee."

"No hurry, Ez," Larabee said as he turned to the woman standing beside the bed. "Thanks for coming by, Anne."

"You're welcome, Chris. I wanted to see how you were doing and I can tell you're feeling better."

"I am. At least there's no more of those nightmares. Can you push that table closer?"

"Sure," the nurse said. She walked to the opposite side of the bed and pushed the table towards the bed. She handed him the glass of juice and smiled as he sipped it slowly.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. I can't stay long, Chris. I...I just wanted to see how you were."

Chris looked into her eyes and realized there was more to it than that, but he didn't voice his thoughts. He smiled and reached for her hand, running his fingers along the palm. "That means a lot to me," he said as he caught the scent of the soft perfume she wore. A subtle hint of wildflowers that teased the senses and left him with a strong impression of a field of breathtaking flowers.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

Larabee grinned at her again as he answered. "That sand..."

"I don't think so," she laughed as she looked into the wondrous pools of soft green and knew she could easily get lost in them.

"Damn, guess I'm stuck with whatever they bring me."

Anne shook herself and tried to rid her body of the heat this man's gaze instilled in her. She smiled at him again as he released her hand, her immediate reaction was to reach out and take it in her own, but she fought her feelings. "Well, Chris, I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Thanks, Anne."

"I'd better go get ready for my shift," she said softly.

"Can you come ba..." he stopped as he realized what he was asking.

"I'd like to, Chris. If you're up to the company."

"I'm up for it. Besides it's boring just lying here."

"When are they planning on starting physiotherapy?"

"They started this morning. Hopefully I'll be able to get out of this damn bed soon."

"That's great, but make sure you do as they tell you."

"I will. Thanks for stopping by, Anne."

"You're welcome. Are you all right here alone?" She blushed as she realized what she'd just asked him.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Besides Ezra will be back any minute. Go ahead before you're late."

"Okay, but you make sure you buzz the nurse if you need anything before Ezra gets back."

"I will," Larabee assured her as she left. He eased back against the pillow and rubbed his shoulder. There was something drawing him to the nurse and he felt a warmth race through him. 'Don't go there, Larabee,'he thought as his eyes slid closed.

The door opened a fraction and a woman stared at the bed. Her eyes were filled with malice as she glared at the injured man. 'Soon,' she thought as she eased the door closed.

Chris opened his eyes and looked at the door. He knew he'd heard the it open, but there was no one in the room with him. 'Must've been one of the nurses,'he thought as he closed his eyes once more.

Part 38

Patrice sat on the park bench and smiled at her companion. Four days had passed since her last date with this man and she saw the change in him. She didn't want to pump him for information, but she needed to know what was happening with Chris Larabee. They'd been talking about simple things, but no mention had been made of the man in the hospital.

Patrice lifted her eyes to meet his and asked softly. "How is your friend doing?"

Standish smiled warmly at the woman. "He's doing much better. He's been able to talk about what that bas...," he paused and got his emotions under control. "What was done to him..."

Patrice smiled at him but drowned out his voice as she thought about Standish' friend. She was ready to implement her plans and she knew she had to stay away from prying eyes. Anne Sheridan was becoming a fixture in Larabee's room, at least when the others were not around and Patrice realized the woman had feelings for the blond. She also knew the nurse would not act upon them until Larabee was out of the hospital. 'Well, that ain't gonna happen, Anne, that bastard will spend his last days in that room,' she vowed and turned her attention back to her companion.

"Pat, are you all right?"

"Of course I am. Why do you ask?"

"You seemed like you were miles away."

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking."

"About your friend."

"Yes."

"How is he?"

"I'm afraid he has taken a turn for the worse and he is not expected to make it..."

Ezra pulled her close and mistook the shudder that ran through her body as sorrow and he held her tightly. "I'm so sorry. Is there any hope at all?"

"No, none at all. He doesn't have much longer and he's in such pain." 'At least he will be,' she thought as the strong arms held her in a fierce grip. 'Chris Larabee doesn't have much time at all.'

Chris lay back against his pillows, a contented smile on his face as he bit into the oven roasted turkey sandwich. He could feel his friends watching him, but continued to savor his first real meal in what seemed like forever. The thick French bread was slathered in mayonnaise and thick slices of turkey, lettuce and tomato, two slices of pickle accompanied it, but he'd made quick work of those. He managed to eat half the sandwich, before his stomach felt full. Not wanting to be sick he turned down the rest, but asked if they would have it put away for him to have with his dinner.

"I take it you enjoyed the sandwich?" Barrett said as he entered the room and noticed the remains of the deli special.

"Yeah, you could say that," Larabee smiled at the doctor as he rubbed his stomach. "Gonna have the rest with dinner."

"Just make sure you don't overdo it."

"I won't."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Doc, except," he felt his friend's heads turn towards him and knew they were worried about him.

"Except what?" Barrett asked concerned about his patient's well being.

"It's time to get rid of the damn pump."

"Pump? Oh, the morphine?"

"Yeah, hate falling asleep all the time, Doc. Can't you have them make it so I can take it when I need it, not when you guys think I should have it?"

"I think that can be arranged," Barrett said with a smile. "I'll have one of the nurses come in and set it up for you, but, Chris..."

"I know, use it when I need it and don't try to..."

"RIDE IT OUT!" six voices said at once and the eight men in the room couldn't help but laugh.

"I take it you can be stubborn?"

"Chris? Stubborn? Hell, Doc, if you look at the definition in the dictionary there are two names mentioned there..."

"Don't start, Buck..." Tanner tried to stop his friend.

"Chris Larabee and..."

"Wilmington..." the tracker hissed.

"Vin Tanner," the ladies man finished and saw the smile forming on the blond's face.

"Buck, you know your name must be listed there too," Larabee said softly, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at his long time friend.

"Yeah, but mine's listed under Doll, ya know the kind of man the ladies go for?"

"I think Buck's right, Chris," Dunne said. "But the reason he's under Doll is because a doll is a stuffed..."

"Don't say it, Kid," Wilmington said as he chased JD out of the room amidst the sound of heartfelt laughter.

Barrett was pleased to see how relaxed his patient was and knew these men were the best medicine for the injured man. He noticed the quick glance between Larabee and Tanner and wondered what it would be like to have a friend be this close to him. He took a deep breath and looked back at his patient.

"Chris, how did physio go today?"

Larabee frowned as he remembered the painful exercises they'd put him through earlier that morning. At that time he'd been grateful when the morphine kicked in and eased some of the tremors that wracked his body. He used his left hand and unconsciously rubbed his right hip.

"Are you all right, Chris?" Barrett asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Physio was," he thought about it for a few minutes and looked at his friends, stopping on the worried face of Vin Tanner. "Rough," he finally answered.

"Rough?" Jackson's eyebrows rose at the blond's obvious understatement.

Larabee smiled at the medic's questioning look. "Hell, Nathan, it hurt like a sonofabitch, but at least I was moving around. I'm so tired of sitting in this damn bed and not being able to do anything for myself!" the blond snapped.

"Well, that's another reason I'm here," Barrett said as Larabee turned towards him.

"What?"

"Dr. Hastings and I were in conference earlier and we're both in agreement that it's time to get you mobile. How would you like to sit by the window for a while?"

"Rather go outside," Larabee stated softly.

Barrett smiled and patted his patient's shoulder. "Well, now that could be arranged as well."

"Really?" the blond asked hopefully.

"I can't see why not. It's a warm day out there and as long as you take it easy and don't try to get out of the wheelchair there shouldn't be a problem."

"Hell, Doc, I'd agree to stay in this damn bed if it meant getting outside for a while," Larabee told him.

"I'll send your nurse in right away to program the morphine pump and help get you into the wheelchair. Just make sure you don't overdo it, Chris."

"I won't."

"How long, Doc?" Sanchez asked.

"Maybe fifteen minutes for now."

"Fifteen minutes!" Larabee hissed.

"Chris..."

Larabee heard the tone and knew better than to argue. 'Hell, I can convince the guys to keep me out there a little longer.' "All right, Doc, fifteen minutes."

"I'll be back to check on you tomorrow, Chris."

"Thanks, Doc," Larabee said as the older man left.

"Chris?"

"Yeah, Nathan."

"Fifteen minutes."

Larabee looked chagrined as the medic repeated the doctor's words. "I heard him, Nate," he assured his friend.

"Yeah, we know you heard him, Chris, but we also know that look you get when you think you can put one over on us," Sanchez said as Wilmington and Dune returned to the room.

"Hell, Josiah..."

The tracker smiled at his friend as he rubbed at his own shoulder. "Forget it, Chris. Ain't no way you'll be outside..."

"Outside?" Dunne asked.

"Yeah, Doc gave permission for Chris to leave the floor and go outside for fifteen minutes," Tanner explained.

"That's great, Stud," Wilmington winked at his long time friend as he leaned in closer. "If ya let me drive I'll see if we can escape this place for a few hours."

"Buck's driving!"

"I don't think so!" Jackson interrupted, having heard the whispered promise from the scoundrel. "We all know where you two would end up if you were in control of Chris' chair."

"Spoiled sport," the ladies man said with a twinkle in his eye as he heard Larabee laugh.

The door opened and the day nurse, an older woman with short brown hair and thick rimmed glasses pushed a wheelchair inside. "Hi, Chris, I hear you want to go outside."

"Yeah, Mary, Dr. Barrett said I can get out of this bed for a while."

Mary tucked a thin sheet on the seat of the chair and pushed it next to the bed. "Let me fix the morphine first," she said as she reprogrammed the pump and showed him a tiny box. "You press this button when you need it. You can't overmedicate yourself so don't be afraid of pushing the button."

"I won't."

Mary frowned at the laughter from the six men standing around the room and wondered why Larabee's words had such an affect on them. "Did I say something funny?" she asked.

"No, Ma'am," Wilmington laughed. "It's what Chris said. It's not that he's afraid of pushing the button, it's that he won't push the button. Thinks it'll ruin his macho image."

"Shut up, Buck," Larabee warned.

"Watch it, Stud, or I won't help you escape," the ladies man laughed.

"Escape?" Mary asked. "Surely you're not planning on taking Chris off the hospital grounds?"

"I assure you we have no intention of aiding Mr. Larabee's escape from such a wonderful facility," Standish said as the woman glared at the six healthy men.

"We're just going to take our brother outside for some fresh air," Sanchez advised.

"Mary." The nurse turned towards her patient. "Don't mind these guys. I just need to get out for a little while."

"Fifteen minutes," Jackson reiterated.

"I got the message, Nate," Larabee assured his friend.

"Make sure it's no longer than that or I'll come looking for you," Mary said as the door opened and an orderly walked in. "Now, let's see about getting you into this chair."

It took nearly fifteen minutes for the nurse and the orderly to get Larabee from the bed and into the wheelchair. Jackson and Sanchez also helped, but by the time they'd finished Chris' face was covered in sweat and his heart was racing.

Chris sat in the chair, his eyes closed, his fists clenched at his side, and his breath coming in hiccupping gasps as he tried to overcome the pain and the building nausea. He could hear concerned voices and knew they were talking about him, but he couldn't answer them without letting them know just how lousy he felt.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Jackson said softly.

"Chris, we're gonna get you back in the bed," Mary told him.

"N...no bed...ju...just gimme a sec."

Vin eased down beside his friend and saw the agony written across the handsome face. "We can do this later, Chris," he suggested.

"No, V...Vin, n...need to get ou...out now," he gasped as he forced his eyes open and looked hopefully at his friends. "I re...really need th...this, B...boys."

"All right, Cowboy," Tanner said as he reached for the blanket on the bed and covered the trembling man's legs. "We'll go when you say you're ready."

"Th...thanks, Vin," Larabee smiled at his closest friend as he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. He knew if he didn't get it under control the nurse would insist on his having a mask and that would end any thoughts of going outside. He knew the mask would take at least twenty minutes and he couldn't sit in the chair much longer than that.

Six anxious men watched the blond, hoping and praying he'd be able to make the simple trip he'd been looking forward to. They knew the nurse was watching him closely and it would be her decision whether he needed a mask or not. They sighed in relief as Larabee opened his eyes and took a deep breath before looking around the room.

"Damn, you boys look worse than I feel."

"Impossible, Stud," Wilmington said seriously. "You sure you're up to this?"

"Yeah, Buck, I need it," Larabee told him as he accepted the cloth and washed his face.

"All right then. Let's get you outside. Maybe we can pop a wheelie on this thing," the scoundrel said as he grabbed the handles of the chair.

"No way, Buck," Jackson hissed as he moved the larger man aside.

"Ah, hell, Nathan, I wasn't gonna do nothing."

"Yeah, well, let's just make sure you don't. Are you ready Chris?"

"Hell yes," Larabee said with a smile.

"Chris, make sure you let them know if you need to come back inside..."

"I will."

"Let me finish," Mary laughed. "Before the fifteen minutes are up."

"Oh," the blond said and the others smiled at the sheepish look on his face.

Nathan smiled as the nurse held the door for him to push the wheelchair through. Josiah held the IV pole on the left side of the chair, Vin stood to the right, while the other men surrounded the tiny entourage and walked down the long corridor towards the bank of elevators situated across from the forth floor nurses desk.

Patrice watched the group as they entered the elevators, a smile on her face as she saw how pale the man in the chair was. She knew he was healing, and she was ready to implement her plans to set him back. She turned away as the elevator doors closed and walked towards the stairs that led to the basement where the cafeteria was located. 'Tonight's dinner should be anything but healthy, Larabee,' she thought as she raced down the stairs.

Part 39

Chris smiled as his chair was pushed through the main doors that led out into the flower garden and courtyard. The sun shone down on the multicoloured roses, marigolds, petunias and numerous flowers Chris could not name. The sweet scent of nature's perfumes assaulted his senses and brought a smile to his face.

Jackson pushed the chair towards two empty park benches and eased Larabee to a stop between them. Vin sat on the bench to the right of his friend and the others immediately took up position around their injured friends.

"You okay, Vin?" Larabee asked of his pale friend.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Pard," the tracker said as he watched the genuine joy on the blond's face. He loved the outdoors and knew Larabee also held a passion for being outside. Both men loved nothing better than taking Pony and Peso and racing across their adjoining properties, letting the wind rush past them as the geldings' strong legs ate up the ground underfoot. He knew instinctively the older man was thinking about the same thing and he smiled as he gripped his friend's shoulder. "We're gonna race..."

"Like the wind when we get home," Larabee finished and returned the younger man's smile.

"Hey, you guys want something to eat or drink?" Dunne asked.

"Water, JD," Larabee answered, his stomach still queasy from moving from the bed to the chair.

"Coffee," Jackson, Wilmington, and Standish said in unison.

"Code Red," Tanner answered.

"Code Red?" Larabee asked.

"Yeah, Chris, Code Red. You know the new Mountain Dew drink?" the Bostonian asked disbelievingly.

"Oh shoot, next thing you'll be drinking that Vanilla Coke or Cherry Pepsi," Larabee answered.

"I have you know there is nothing wrong with Vanilla Coke, Mr. Larabee," Standish blustered.

"Or Cherry Pepsi," Sanchez said and was surprised as six pairs of eyes stared at him. "Well, a man does need to indulge in something a little off the wall!"

"Oh, hell, Josiah, they've corrupted you," Wilmington laughed. "Get going, kid, before we have to head back inside."

"Be right back," Dunne said as he hurried towards the hospital.

"You really like Cherry Pepsi, Josiah?" Jackson asked.

"I do," Sanchez grinned as he answered his long time friend. "Have you tried it?"

"No and I don't think I want to," the medic answered and turned back to Larabee. "How are you doing, Chris?"

"I'm okay, Nathan. It's great to be out of there," Larabee answered.

"I bet it is, Cowboy. Won't be long more and you'll be out of there for good and we'll all head back home."

Larabee was thoughtful for a few minutes before he turned to the men around him, before stopping on Sanchez. "When we leave here we have a stop to make, right, Josiah?"

"I think you're right, Brother."

"Four Corners," Tanner said softly.

"Yeah, I think maybe we need to let some old relatives know everything's all right and they can rest easy," Larabee told them.

"Mr. Larabee, I would be remiss in not pointing out they probably already know," Standish told him.

"No, Ez, I don't think they do. I can still sense them around and I have a feeling there's got to be a reason for it," the blond said and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He winced as a stab of pain shot through his hip, but brushed off the concerns of his men. "I'm okay," he assured them.

"It's almost time to get you back inside, Chris."

"Just a little longer Nathan," Larabee pleaded softly as he soaked in the warm rays of the sun.

"Here comes JD," Tanner told them as the kid hurried towards them with a tray of drinks.

"Five minutes, Chris."

"Thanks, Nathan," Larabee said and turned towards the thick brush opposite the park bench. He shivered as he saw movement, but wasn't sure whether it was a soft breeze or someone watching them.

"You cold, Chris?" Wilmington asked.

"No," Larabee answered a little too quickly. "I'm fine, Boys, just enjoying the fresh air." He took the open bottle of Perrier and took a small sip from it before turning back to the brush. The movement had stopped and he put it down to the medications and his own exhaustion. He handed the bottle back to the easterner and pulled himself up in the chair. He knew things were getting worse and he turned pain filled eyes on the medic. "Think it's time to go back, Nathan."

"All right, Chris. Why don't you push that button so the medication has a chance to work before we move you back into bed?"

Larabee nodded and depressed the button as the seven men headed back inside, unaware of the blond woman watching from behind the heaviest area of brush.

'Enjoy your dinner, Larabee, it's gonna make a lasting impression on you. As long as you last that is.' Patrice laughed as she looked at the chef's salad she held in her hand. She'd laced it with larkspur and a tingling feeling raced through her as she thought of the pain it would cause the hated man they'd just wheeled inside. She headed back inside and up to the waiting room on the forth floor. She knew the room would be the first one to receive dinner and she would be there to exchange the salad for the one on Larabee's dinner tray.

+ + + + + + +

The six friends returned Chris to his room where he was helped back into bed and slept blissfully through the rest of the afternoon. He opened his eyes as Mary brought in his tray and placed it on the table. She smiled at the ladies man, knowing he'd ensure the patient would eat.

"Chris, dinner's here," Wilmington said as he smiled at the still tired eyes.

"Dinner?" Larabee asked, confusion written on his face.

"Yeah, you know, the meal ya eat after lunch?"

"Shit, didn't think I was that tired."

"Damn, Chris, you'll probably be tired like that for a while yet. Now why don't we see what you have this evening?"

"Nah, I don't want that. Bring me the rest of that sandwich. I think Mary put it in the fridge for me."

"All right, Pard, but you eat that salad while I'm gone," Wilmington said, knowing Larabee loved chef's salad. "It's even got your favorite Ranch dressing."

Larabee lifted the fork in his left hand and slowly began eating. The taste of the dressing was heaven and he savored the fresh greens. By the time Buck returned with the remainder of the sandwich, his mouth was burning and he wondered what was so spicy in the simple salad. He dropped the fork on the table as he lay back against his pillow.

"Something wrong with the salad, Chris?" Wilmington asked.

"Yeah, I think these guys must put different spices in their salads. Damn, that's hotter than the suicide sauce they serve on the ribs at Buck's Bar and Grill," Larabee told him.

"Hmm, maybe we should bottle it up," the ladies man laughed. "You want me to get you some water?"

The blond nodded and frowned as his mouth continued to burn. "Thanks, B...Buck," he said as he was handed a glass of ice water.

"Still want your sandwich?"

"Yeah," Larabee said as he watched the ladies man open the Ziploc bag.

"There you go, Pard."

"Thanks." Chris picked up the sandwich and bit into it, groaning as pain erupted in his mouth.

"Hell, Chris, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Buck, just not as hungry as I thought."

"Chris?"

"Can you ask Mary to put it back until later. I guess I really did overdo it today. Look I'm fine, Buck, just not in the mood to eat right now," Larabee assured his friend.

"All right, Chris. What about the rest of the stuff on your tray?"

"Just the juice," Larabee insisted and smiled as his friend put the sandwich back in the bag.

Buck watched as Larabee's finger hit the button under his hand. He knew his friend was in more pain than he let on or he never would've taken the pain medication. "Why don't you go back to sleep, Chris. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Thhhanksh, Buck, I thhhink I w...will," the blond said as he turned slightly on his side.

Wilmington noticed the slurred words, but chalked it up to the medication, pain and exhaustion. He studied his friend's slack features and knew he was sleeping. He settled back in the chair and turned on the TV, hoping Larabee's sleep would be a restful one.

Half an hour later Mary came back into the room to collect the dinner tray. She frowned as she saw the barely touched meal and the sandwich laying next to the tray. "He didn't eat very much," she commented.

"No," Wilmington said as he looked at the half eaten salad. "He didn't seem to keen on the salad dressing, and said he was tired. He fell back to sleep right away."

"Well, I'll put in a call for the kitchen to send him up a fresh tray when he wakes up." She checked the IV leading into her patient's arm and made sure there was no swelling or problems with the site. She knew they'd be changing the location the following day in order to ensure the sites stayed healthy. Finally satisfied everything was running properly she picked up the tray and shook her head before leaving the room.

Buck picked up the magazine he'd been reading and relaxed in the chair once more. He re-read the same paragraph four times and finally gave up on it. He looked at his friend and wondered why he felt there was something wrong, something more than the obvious. He sighed and reached out to touch Larabee's forehead just as a soft moan slipped past the closed lips.

Chris groaned as he moved his tongue in his mouth, aware of the thickness and burning sensation he had there. He felt a hand touch his forehead and forced his eyes open. He looked into concerned blue eyes and tried to smile, but any movement of his lips or mouth sent a ripple of pain and nausea cascading through his body. He knew he was going to be sick and was relieved when Wilmington seemed to read the warning in his eyes.

The ladies man quickly slipped the basin under Larabee's mouth just as a thick stream of noxious vomit erupted from his throat. Buck held him up and massaged his back and shoulders until the vomiting subsided and he placed his friend back on the bed. He pressed the button to call one of the nurses before he picked up a cloth and slowly washed the sweat streaked face. He watched the chest rise and fall as the blond slowly brought his breathing under control.

"Easy, Chris, the nurse is on her way."

"Christ, Bu...Buck..."

"I know, Pard. Thought you were well enough for that trip outside, but I guess we were wrong."

"N...no, not the trip out....side...that was good...ne...needed it. So...something else," he hissed as he felt more bile come up in his throat and burning the interior of his inflamed mouth.

Buck held him as Mary hurried into the room.

"What's going on?" she asked as she noticed the dark haired man holding tightly to his friend. She helped Buck ease the trembling patient back on the bed and noticed the swollen lips and darting tongue.

"He just started puking all over the place," Wilmington snapped. "Can't you do something?" he asked as Larabee was again wracked by vomiting and pain.

"I'm going to have the desk page Dr. Barrett. Chris just try to relax for a few minutes," Mary said as she buzzed the nursing station.

"O...okay...Shit!" he gasped as he felt the hot bile rising in his throat once more. "God, Buck, I f...feel like m...my mouth's o...on fi...fire!"

Mary hurriedly told the desk what she wanted and turned back to the ill man. "Chris, open your mouth for me!" she ordered.

Larabee hissed as he tried to do as she asked, but again the burning and pain stopped him, and he tried to moisten his lips.

"Mary, what's wrong with him?" Wilmington asked, concern written across his face.

"I'm not sure, Buck, but his mouth is inflamed..."

"Shit!" the ladies man swore. "What the hell's causing that?"

"We won't know until..." she didn't finish as her patient again groaned and turned in search of the basin.

Wilmington placed it under the sick man's mouth and watched as yellow fluid slid from his mouth. He reached for the cloth and again washed his friend's face, before wrapping his arms around the shaking form. 'Come on, Chris, I don't think any of us can handle complications right now, especially you,' he thought sadly as he watched the heaving chest and the tears slipping from the closed eyes.

"How long before the doctor gets here?" the ladies man asked worriedly.

"He should be here shortly, Mr. Wilmington," Mary said as she took a stethoscope and listened to her patient's lungs.

Larabee listened to the two people talking, but could not speak past the pain in his mouth. Each movement of his tongue or lips seemed to set off a new round of nausea and he felt exhausted. Chris was glad of the strong hands of his long time friend, holding him, soothing him, but nothing seemed to help rid his body of the sickness invading him.

"I got you, Pard," the ladies man whispered as he continued to hold the blond. "Not gonna let you go," he looked up as the door opened and Barrett rushed into the room. "Thank, God! Doc, do something!"

"I'm going to, Buck. Could you move away from the bed?"

Larabee's left hand clenched around Wilmington's right arm. "N...no...Buck...St...stay..." he hissed as the agony in his stomach grew to encompass his still healing ribs and chest. "G...God!"

"Doc!" Wilmington said as he kept his hands on his friend's body.

"Chris, I need to take a look at you!" Barrett said authoritatively. "That means Buck has to lay you back on the bed!"

"D...don't go!" His voice sounded weak to his own ears, but at that moment Chris Larabee didn't give a damn. He needed the touch, to know he wasn't alone, that someone was there to watch his back.

"He doesn't have to go, Chris! He can stay right beside you," Barrett assured his patient, knowing Larabee had already been through hell alone and was in need of a friendly face during this new problem. "I just need to see what's going on, okay?"

"G...guess so," Larabee moaned as Wilmington reluctantly placed him back on the pillow.

Larabee tried to curl into a ball as his body was hit with another spasm of stomach cramps and pain. "Jesus!"

"Doctor, you should take a look at his mouth as well," Mary suggested as the physician examined his patient's abdomen.

Barrett checked the sick man's mouth and throat and continued to tell him what he was doing. He looked at the nurse and asked. "When did this start?"

"I'm not sure, Doctor. Mr. Wilmington buzzed the station soon after we collected the dinner trays."

"Buck, what did he eat?"

"Ch...Christ," the blond writhed on the bed in agony as his friend reached out to touch his shoulder.

"Just part of a chef's salad at dinner."

"Anything else during the day?" Barrett asked as he continued his examination of the patient.

"Yeah, he had a turkey sandwich from the deli across the street, but he only ate half of it."

"Nothing spicy..."

"He was complaining about the sauce on the chef's salad. Said it was really spicy," Wilmington explained.

"Spicy?" He turned to the nurse. "I want blood samples and I want a swab of his mouth and throat as well," he ordered and watched as the nurse hurried to get the items she needed. He returned his attention to the ladies man and asked. "What kind of dressing"

"It looked like a regular ranch dressing," the ladies man answered.

"Easy, Chris," Barrett said as the two men turned the injured man on his side as his stomach rebelled once more. They eased him back on the bed and saw the misery written across the pale face. The bruises that had dominated the handsome features were now just a dull yellow, mingled with pale green and would probably disappear in a day or so.

Part 40

Mary came back into the room and between her and the doctor, blood samples were taken and swabs were done of Larabee's inflamed mouth.

"Mary, when did he last have Zofran?" Barrett asked.

"Just before dinner, Doctor Barrett."

He frowned as he realize less than two hours had passed and his patient was still vomiting and gagging. "Chris, I'm afraid we're going to have to put the NG..."

"No! Shit, Doc, just w...wait a w...while....hate tu...tubes," he said as he turned towards the new basin. His chest was constricting again as the violence of the vomiting affected his weakened lungs.

"There's no choice, Chris. We need to get you comfortable and that's just not gonna happen while you're like this. Mary, set up for an NG insertion."

Mary nodded and hurried to get the equipment Barrett would need.

Buck watched as his friend's face grimaced in pain and knew Barrett was right. Whatever was making Larabee sick was not subsiding and he needed some kind of relief. He continued to rest his hand on the blond's forehead as the nurse returned with the requested items.

"Okay, Chris, just relax and we'll get this done as quickly as possible," Barrett explained as he opened the sealed packages.

"O...okay," Larabee trembled on the bed, his eyes closed, his heart beating a symphony in his chest as he waited for the tube to be inserted into his nostril and down into his stomach. Chris swallowed nervously and turned his eyes to the side as Wilmington ran his fingers through sweat soaked blond hair.

The scoundrel saw the depths of despair in the green orbs and wished there was something he could do to ease his friend's pain. 'Oh, Hell, Chris, I wish I could take it all away!' he thought as he watched the doctor insert the tube down Larabee's left nostril. He saw the haggard face flinch and knew how uncomfortable his friend was feeling. He sighed when the simple procedure was finished and his friend seemed a little more comfortable.

"Chris, hopefully that'll help with the nausea. Mary, he's NPO until we get the results of the tests."

"Yes, Doctor," the nurse said as she placed a card over his bed. She moved to ready the medication for Larabee's lungs as Barrett continued to check the rest of the vitals. She placed the mask over his mouth and nose and watched as the green eyes closed and he sucked deeply at the bronchodilator.

"Th...thanks, Doc," the blond hissed as he gave in and pressed the tiny button under his hand.

"You're welcome, Chris. How do you feel now?"

"Still feel like shit," the blond answered as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Barrett picked up the chart and changed some of the instructions before turning to the nurse. "Let me know if there are any other problems. I'm on call tonight and will be within easy reach."

"I will, Doctor," Mary agreed as she changed the bag of IV fluids over Larabee's head.

"Buck?" Barrett called, but there was no answer from the dark haired man. "Buck, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Doc, just wondering what else he's got to go through before someone cuts him a break!"

"He's lucky he's got you guys around to help him and I'm sure you'll all give him what he needs to make it through."

"Hell, Doc, he can have anything I have if it'll make him better." Wilmington swore.

"I don't doubt that for a minute, Buck. He's a damn lucky man!"

"So are we, Doc, so are we," the scoundrel said as he sank into the chair and watched over his friend. He nodded as the doctor left the room and he was once more alone with the injured man. 'How do I tell Vin and the others about this,' he thought tiredly.

Buck stood up, looked down at the sleeping man, and sighed heavily. His shoulders slumped and the pain hung heavy on them as he walked to the window and peered out through the shiny reinforced glass. "Goddammit, Chris, I'm not gonna let you go!"

Buck didn't hear the door open, but the unexpected gasp made him turn away from the window and flinch at the sight of a very pale Vin Tanner walking towards the bed.

"What the fuck happened?" the sharpshooter hissed as he used his left hand to lean heavily on the bedrail.

"Oh hell, Vin, I was just about to call you guys. Where's Nathan?"

The tracker lifted his head and turned a worried gaze on the ladies' man. "He stopped at the coffee shop to get you and Chris something to drink. What happened to him, Buck. He was doing so much better this afternoon."

"I know he was, Vin. Something's making him sick to his stomach again and not just a little. He kept throwing up and no matter what Barrett did it kept going until he put the NG tube back in."

"Sonofabitch!" Tanner snarled as he released his grip on the railing. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he felt Wilmington's strong hands guide him to the chair. The lack of sleep, worry, and not eating properly were taking a toll on his still healing body, but he knew this was only partially to blame for how he was feeling right now. The weakness finally left him and he met the scoundrel's eyes.

"Are you okay now, Vin?"

"Yeah...think so. Just caught me by surprise to see that tube down his throat again."

"You're not the only one," Wilmington assured him as the door opened and an agitated Nathan Jackson came into the room.

"How is he, Buck" Jackson asked, knowing the ladies man would know more about how Larabee really was. The doctors and nurses were good and did a thorough job, but they didn't have the same sense of what this man, or his friends were really feeling.

"He's not doing very well, Nathan. He's sick and exhausted. It didn't matter what they did he just kept throwing up until..." he couldn't finish as the emotional exchange between himself and The Firm's leader finally caught up to him. "He's got to be all right, Nathan. I can't lose him. I won't lose him! That fuckin' bastard died to easy!"

"Easy, Buck, I think you need to sit down," Jackson warned as he slid another chair beside the one Tanner sat in. He waited for the ladies man to sit, but there was no movement from the man. "Buck! Sit!" he ordered sharply.

Buck heard the order and sat down. His eyes raking over the man in the bed as he realized just how sick his friend was, how much this new illness had set him back. Whatever happened, Chris Larabee would not be alone in his suffering, for Buck's shoulder already bore much of that pain. The ladies' man realized he was not the only one who felt that way as he looked at the other men in the room. He knew they were all more than willing to take on as much as was needed to get the blond back on his feet and home where he belonged.

"We need to let the others know," Wilmington said softly.

"You can do that when you get back to the hotel," Jackson said.

"I'm not leaving him, Nathan."

"Buck..."

"No, Nate!"

"What's wrong, Buck?" Tanner hissed.

"I just can't leave him alone," the ladies man said softly.

"Do you trust me...us, Buck?" the sharpshooter asked.

"What kind've question is that?" Wilmington snapped. "Course I trust you!"

"Then how can you say you're leaving him alone. Nathan and me'll be here. We'll watch him."

"I...Vin...That's not what I meant."

"Good, then you can tell the others when you get back," Jackson interrupted.

Buck stared at the man in the bed and knew his friends were right. He knew any of the others would take care of Chris, but it didn't make it any easier for him to leave. Finally realizing how right they were he stood on shaky legs and nodded. "All right, I'll go, but..."

"We'll call if anything happens, Buck," Jackson assured him.

Wilmington's gaze turned to the sharpshooter and he knew he was leaving his best friend in capable hands. He turned to the bed and flicked back a stray lock of blond hair. He knew the nurse would be in soon to remove the mask and replace it with the nasal canulas and he felt a tear slip from his eyes.

"You rest easy, Pard, Vin and Nathan got your back now and they'll make sure nothing happens to you," he vowed before bidding the others goodbye and walking out the door.

Vin watched the door close gently behind the ladies man, before turning his attention back to his best friend. He reached over the railing and grabbed onto he left hand. He knew Jackson was in the room, yet the medic stood back to let him have a few minutes alone with Larabee.

"Well, Cowboy, seems the long road just keeps getting longer for you, but ya know you won't have to go it alone. You got friends who're willing to follow you to hell and back in order to see you back where you belong. I wish the hell I could do something more..."

"Doing l...lots, Tanner." Larabee winced under the mask as his still inflamed mouth protested any use.

The sharpshooter's head snapped up at the muffled words and he was pleased to see a set of green eyes looking at him. They were glazed and filled with pain, but at least his friend was awake. "Hey, Pard, I won't ask how you're feeling."

"No, don't t...think you w...want to he...hear that right now. How's the arm?"

"Stiff," the tracker told him.

"Buck okay? He was up...set earlier."

"He just left to get some rest. I won't lie to ya, ya scared the hell out of him."

"Tell him s...sorry. Didn't mean to..."

"Easy, Chris, no one's blaming you," Jackson assured his friend.

"Sh...should...spend all your time here...be...cause of me."

"Now, Chris, how many times have you stood by one of us when we've been hurt and laid up?" Jackson asked. "Ain't no one gonna blame you for this, unless you keep that kind've talk up."

"But..."

"No buts, Cowboy, Nathan's right, now wipe that look off your face and concentrate no getting better."

The door opened and the nurse walked in. Chris frowned as he looked at her, briefly wondering where Mary was, until he realized it must be time for the night shift to start. He watched as she checked his IV line.

"Hi, Mr. Larabee," The perky redhead greeted him. "My name is Tanya and I'll be one of the nurses looking after you tonight. I'm going to take this mask off now, but the doctor has ordered the canulas be put in place again. Sorry."

"It's o...okay," the blond said as she removed the mask.

"Would you like to try some ice chips?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," the blond answered, hoping to ease the burning in his mouth and throat. He accepted the offering and tried not to show just how painful it was to have anything in his mouth.

"Chris, are you all right?" Tanya asked.

"Mouf h...hurfs," the blond answered as the ice melted.

"Pardon?" the nurse asked.

"He said his mouth hurts," Tanner answered worriedly.

"Does the ice help at all?" The red head frowned as she checked the swollen lips.

"Liffle."

"Helps a little?" she asked.

"Yeah," the blond answered tiredly.

"I'll let Dr. Barrett know right away. The results from the tests they did earlier haven't come back yet," she told him as she patted his shoulder. "We'll know more when they do. Why don't you try to get some rest?"

"We'll make sure he does," Jackson assured the nurse.

"Visiting hours will be over soon and you..."

"We're stayin', Ma'am," Tanner said.

"Hospital..."

"Never mind about hospital policy," Jackson answered. "This is our policy and one that we intend to enforce. If there's a problem contact Orrin Travis in Billings Montana. I can give you the number. He'll tell you that this man is under protective custody."

"Protective custody? Where are the guards?"

"You're looking at them," Tanner answered.

"I hate to tell you, but I don't believe a word you're saying, but..."

"Lef 'em stay," Larabee mumbled.

"But, you do seem to have a calming effect on Mr. Larabee..."

"Chris."

"Chris," she smiled at the pale man, before turning to the two men. "So you can stay until someone complains. If that happens I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"We'll be quiet as..."Jackson started.

"Church mice," Tanner finished.

Tanya laughed as she walked away from the bed. "See that you do. Chris, sleep, that's an order!"

"Yeth, ma'am." Larabee's voice still held a muffled quality as he turned to his friends. "Fanks, Boys," he said gratefully. In an effort to quiet the mounting pain he shifted on the bed, gasping as the move had the opposite effect.

"Try to lie still, Chris," Jackson said.

"Need to move," Larabee told them, a grimace of pain showing just how much effort it was taking to move and speak.

"No, right now you need to go back to sleep," Tanner ordered. "Me and Nathan got your back."

"Hit the button, Chris." Jackson pointed to the button under Larabee's left hand.

"I don't..."

"Push it, Cowboy. You look like five miles of bad road and maybe this'll upgrade ya to serviceable," Tanner said with a grin.

"Fanks, Vin...all...heart," Larabee said as he pushed the button and waited for the medication to take affect. He closed his eyes and listened to the two men talking softly. He heard the concern in the words and tried to ease it. "I'm okay....just ti...red."

Jackson and Tanner smiled at their friend's attempt to ease their minds, something he always did, no matter how bad off he was. They settled in to watch over their sleeping comrade, unaware of the lingering danger just outside the door.

Part 41

Patrice Milliard watched as one man left Larabee's room. Her hair hung down over her shoulders and she wore the uniform of a hospital cleaner. She'd been standing by the waiting room on the forth floor and had simply changed the half eaten salad for the one that was meant to be on Larabee's tray. She knew he hadn't consumed enough of the larkspur tainted salad to kill him, but it didn't make her angry. She smiled as she thought of how uncomfortable he'd be feeling once the toxin from the leaves took effect. She knew what those would be, nausea, cramping pain, vomiting, everything she could wish on the man who'd cost her so much.

Patrice picked up the dust broom and pretended to clean the floor as she listened to the conversation inside the room. She knew Larabee had only seen her briefly, and he'd been sick at the time, and she smiled as she looked at her reflection in the glass adorning the nursing station. The brown wig and glasses made her look totally different from how he'd seen her and she pushed the door open. She moved inside and caught sight of the man lying on the bed. She kept her gaze diverted as she swept under the bed and around the man seated in the chair.

"Vin, maybe you should go back to the hotel," Jackson said as he watched the tracker rub his shoulder.

"I'm okay, Nathan. Arm's just a little sore. It's Chris we need to worry about."

'You're right. It is Larabee you need to worry about,' Patrice thought as she finished cleaning the room and made her way to the door. 'Because the next time I won't miss!'

Vin watched the door close and sighed heavily. He was tired, a deep seeded tired that cut to the bone. He hadn't been eating right and what he did eat wouldn't stay down for long. He knew it was probably the concussion, but he could also tell that he was losing weight and Jackson was starting to notice. He rubbed his head, hoping to stave off the mounting headache, but a sudden blinding pain told him this one would not be so easily quelled. He felt the soup he'd had at dinnertime coming back in his throat and hurried to the bathroom.

Jackson watched helplessly as Vin made it to the bathroom and shut the door. The sound of retching told him all he needed to know. The sharpshooter was far from healthy and he vowed to make him go to the ER and get checked out. He looked at the bed and knew Larabee was awake and also aware of what was going on.

"Nathan, what's wrong with Vin?"

"I don't know, Chris," Jackson said as he pulled the blankets up over the shivering man. "But I intend to find out. He's going down to the ER as soon as he comes out here."

"He's g...gonna fight you."

"Right now I don't think he's got the strength." He saw the worry in the green eyes and placed a hand on Larabee's shoulder. "He's probably just worn out, Chris. He's not fooling any of us with that 'I'm fine' line of his and..." He didn't get to finish as he heard the sound of running water and the door opened, revealing a very pale and shaky Vin Tanner.

"Sorry," he said and noticed his best friend was awake. "Hey, Cowboy, how're you feeling?"

"Hopefully not as bad as you look. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Chris..."

"Don't give me that shit, Vin!" Larabee snapped. "Shit! Look, do me a favor..."

"Anything!" Tanner vowed.

"Go down to the ER..."

"Chris, I don't need..."

"Fuck thaf shit, Vin. Look, I feel like shif and I need to know thaf you're really okay! Just do this for me, okay?" Larabee's words were not as slurred, but his friends could tell his mouth was still hurting him.

Jackson knew Larabee had used the right words. He'd used his own illness to get the tracker to give in to his demands, and the medic had little doubt that Tanner would do just that. He knew their leader was baiting Tanner and was about to set the hook.

"It's just the affects of the concussion. Dr. Milano said I'd probably..."

"Humor me, V...Vin. Please," the blond mumbled tiredly.

"Ah, hell..."

'Hook, line and sinker,' Jackson thought, keeping the smile off his face as he listened to the two friends.

"Go with him, Nathan," Larabee said, his voice filled with relief.

"I know the way...don't need an escort!" the tracker hissed.

"Yeah," the blond grinned. "I just want to make sure you don't take any detours. Go, I'm going back to sleep anyway. Wake me up when you get back."

"Come on, Vin, let's go get you checked out," Jackson said and led he younger man to the door.

"I'll be right back, Chris."

"I'm counting on it," Larabee said and closed his eyes.

Vin took one last look at the injured man and walked out of the room. He felt Jackson beside him and realized just how tired he felt as the other man reached out and grabbed him as he swayed. "Thanks, Nate," he mumbled tiredly.

Jackson pointed at two chairs beside the window. "Why don't you sit over there until I get a wheelchair?"

"I don't need a wheelchair, Nathan. I keep telling you I'm just tired."

"Tired and sick. Look, Vin, I've heard you puking your guts up when you thought no one heard..."

"Concussion..."

"That may be, but you told Chris you'd get checked out. You want me to go in there and tell him you've changed your mind?" the medic asked.

"Hell, Nate, that's..."

"Blackmail!" Jackson finished with a grin. "Now let's go!"

"Shit!" Tanner swore, but walked towards the bank of elevators.

Patrice watched the two men leave and smiled as she looked at the closed door. 'I could end your life so easily right now, Larabee. I could walk into your room and take a pillow and shove it over your face, pressing down, watching your arms and legs thrash on the bed until you suffocated and no one would know it was me!' she thought and made a move towards the door. Her hand touched the handle and an evil glint shone in her eyes as she slowly pushed down.

"Excuse me!"

Her hand dropped from the handle and she sucked in a deep breath, not realizing she'd been holding it in anticipation of her plans. She turned to face one of the nurses at the desk. "Yes?"

"I need you to clean a spill in 410 right away."

"Okay!" Milliard said, her heart hammering in her chest as she hurried away from the door towards the utility closet. She checked the desk and then hurried to the stairwell before anyone else saw her. Once the door shut behind her, she leaned heavily against it until she got her breathing under control. A smile formed on her face as the adrenalin kicked in and the danger made her heart flutter in her chest. 'Soon, Larabee, very soon,' she thought as she raced down the flight of stairs.

+ + + + + + +

The nurse's desk in the ER was quieter than usual and Nathan steered his charge directly towards the dark haired woman standing behind it.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" the nurse asked.

"Yeah," Jackson answered. "He needs to see a doctor."

"I can talk, Nathan!" Tanner hissed.

"Well go ahead."

"Sir?" the nurse asked.

"Sorry. My friend here seems to think I need to see a doctor."

"Can you tell me what the problem is, besides your arm?" she asked, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"Had a concussion..."

"Severe concussion," Jackson corrected.

"Severe concussion."

"What happened and how long ago?"

"Got shot, guess it's been a couple of weeks," Tanner answered.

"Two weeks since he was shot. Maybe a week and a half since he signed himself out of the hospital. A week since he ended up back in here!" Jackson could feel the quiet tracker glaring at him as the nurse wrote things down on the paper before her.

"So you were a patient in here for how long?"

"Couple of days," Tanner answered. "Saw Dr. Milano..."

"She's here tonight," the nurse said and continued her questions. "What other symptoms brought you back here?"

"Nausea, headaches, vomiting," Jackson again answered and felt the blue eyes blazing into his back.

"Nathan!"

"Well, you didn't answer her."

"Just a minute," the nurse said as she typed the information into the computer.

"Mr. Tanner?"

Vin turned to face the doctor who admitted him the week before. "Ah Hell, hi, Doc," he said.

"Problems?"

Part 42

"Problems?"

"No...not really," Tanner answered.

Milano folded her arms across her chest. "Then why are you in the ER?"

"Told Chris I'd come get checked out."

"Come this way, Mr. Tanner. Judy, is room three still available?"

"Yes, Doctor," the nurse answered.

"Mr. Jackson if you'll stay here and finish his chart. Mr. Tanner, come this way."

"Ah, hell," Tanner muttered as he followed the doctor towards the examination room. Once inside the room the doctor handed him a blue gown and smiled at him. "You know the routine, everything off and I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Vin sat on the edge of the bed and swore at the weakness creeping through his body. His left hand gripped the gown as he heard a knock at the door. "Yeah!" he snapped.

The door opened and Nathan peered inside. "Need some help?"

"To escape?"

"Not likely," Jackson said as he entered the room. He helped ease the tracker out of his clothing and pull the blue hospital gown over his shoulders. "Want to lie down?"

"Not really," the tracker hissed. "I just want to get out of here. Shouldn't have agreed to come down."

"Why?" Jackson asked. "You think they're gonna admit you?"

Tanner's head snapped up and he hissed as pain lanced through his skull. He slipped off the edge of the bed and swayed dangerously. "Gimme my clothes!" he ordered as the room spun rapidly around him.

"Why? So you can fall flat on your face fully dressed?" Jackson asked as he eased his friend back on the bed. He grabbed the basin as the tracker turned white as a ghost and held it as the younger man's stomach emptied once more.

Vin didn't hear the door open or the doctor and nurse enter. By the time the nausea subsided he was sure his head would explode if he moved. A soft moan escaped as he felt the doctor's hand on his left shoulder and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"How long has this been going on?" Milano asked.

"Couple of days," Tanner answered as the nurse began taking his vitals.

"Try five or six," Jackson answered.

"Have you been able to hold anything down?"

"Not much," the tracker answered honestly as he raised his left hand over his eyes.

"Liquids?"

"Sometimes," the patient answered.

"All right, Mr. Tanner. I want to run some blood work and send you for a CT scan. It could be just the concussion, but I want to be sure. Once we get the results of the tests we'll know more about what we're dealing with."

"As long as I get out of here tonight." Tanner hissed.

"I can't promise you that, Mr. Tanner," Milano told him.

Vin tried to sit up, but all he managed was to send shockwaves through his head. He groaned as he felt strong hands hold him down.

"Judy, I want you to start an IV..."

"No!...No IVs..."

"Vin..."

"No way, Nathan! I need..."

"You need to lie back and let us make sure there are no residual problems from the concussion. I can tell just by looking at you that you're slightly dehydrated and the IV will make you feel a little better. Maybe get rid of that feeling that you're gonna pass out all the time," the doctor informed him. "Just let me finish the tests and make sure there's nothing else going on."

"How long will it take?" the tracker asked.

"A couple of hours."

"All right."

"I'll also have Judy give you something for that headache once the CT scan is done and we know more," Milano told her patient.

"O...okay."

"Judy, start the IV and I'll notify CT."

"Yes, Doctor."

"Nathan."

"Yeah, Vin?"

"Go stay with Chris. I'm not going anywhere."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just worried about him ya know?"

"I know," Jackson said as he met the worried blue eyes. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"No. Stay with Chris. Gonna be a while before they know anything anyway. Chris'll be worried."

"Yeah, he will be. We all will. Just hang tough, Vin, and you and Chris will get through all this," the medic said as he left the room.

Nathan walked towards the main doors and went outside. In spite of the late hour the heat of the day was still present as he used his cell phone to call the hotel. It didn't take long for the call to be directed to Josiah' room and the rich, baritone voice answered.

"Sanchez!"

"Josiah, it's Nathan."

"Nathan, what's wrong?"

"Maybe nothing, Josiah, but Vin's being checked out by Dr, Milano."

"I take it he's still throwing up?"

"Yeah. Took Chris to make the stubborn SOB come down to the ER."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I won't know anything until they get the results of their tests. It could be that he's just run down and a little dehydrated as a result of the lingering concussion, but I'll feel better once we know for sure."

"What are they doing for him?"

"The usual, blood tests, IV, and CT scan. That's why I'm calling. Can one of you guys, not including Buck, come down here with Chris until we find out what's happening with Vin."

"Buck's sleeping. Ezra and JD are watching a movie. I'll let them know what's going on and I'll be right over."

"Okay, Josiah, thanks. Vin will probably be at CT by then so come up to Chris' room."

"I will, and Nathan?"

"Yeah."

"Try not to worry too much. Vin's tough and probably just overdid things."

"I hope you're right, Josiah. See you shortly."

"I'm on my way."

Nathan hung up the phone and went back inside to check on the sharpshooter. He opened the door of the examination room and was pleased to see his friend's relaxed features. The IV was running into his left hand and Nathan could tell he was sleeping. He eased the door closed once more and walked to the elevators.

+ + + + + + +

Chris hadn't slept once the other men left the room. He heard someone at the door, but whoever it was didn't open it. He shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot, but it wasn't to be. No matter how carefully he moved, his stiffened body protested, and he winced as the effort pulled on his arm, hip, and ribs.

"Shit!" he swore as his left arm refused to hold him up and he fell back on the pillow. His eyes drifted closed and he felt the draw of sleep, but didn't want to give in until he had word on Vin Tanner.

'Some thing's never change, Mr. Larabee. You always put others ahead of your own health!'

Chris' head snapped towards the corner by the window. A smile formed on his face as he saw the shadowy figure outlined against the darkened window. He knew he was seeing Ezra's ancestor and not his own man, because there was no reflection in the glass. "You telling me you didn't?"

'I always endeavored...'

"Those five dollar words are probably worth twenty dollars now, Ez."

'Monitory value is no longer a priority for me, Mr. Larabee.'

"It's not as important to your descendant either," Larabee said.

'I have to go, but Mr. Tanner will be fine.'

"Thanks, Ez..."

"Mr. Larabee, is something wrong?"

Chris opened his eyes and immediately turned his head towards the corner, shocked that there was no sign of the specter he'd seen there. He turned his head back to the nurse standing beside the bed and couldn't understand how she'd gotten there without him hearing her.

"Huh? How'd you gef here?" he muttered, his tongue thick in his mouth.

"You were sleeping when I came in and I didn't want to wake you, but you were calling for someone named Ez. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yef. Fink so, Mouf still hurfs."

"Would you like to try some more ice chips? Dr. Barrett doesn't want you taking anything else by mouth until he has the results of the tests."

"Pleath," Larabee said and accepted the offering. He looked towards the door as it opened and Nathan Jackson entered. "How's Vin?" he asked as the nurse changed the IV bag.

"Dr. Milano ordered some tests."

"Does she have any idea wha's wrong wif him?"

"He's a little dehydrated, but that's all she knows right now."

"Wha' kinda tefs are they doing?"

"Blood tests and CT scan."

"Don'f worry, he's gonna be fine, Nathan!"

The force of Larabee's words made the medic feel a little better and he waited for the nurse to leave. When they were alone Jackson looked back at his friend. "How do you know?"

"Had a visitor," Larabee said with a grin.

"Who?...You mean?..."

"Yeah, maybe was a dream, buf I know Vin'll be jus' fine," Larabee said and yawned tiredly.

"So will you if you get some rest." Jackson said as the door opened and Barrett came into the room, a chart in his hands.

"Hello, Nathan, Chris."

"Doc," Larabee said.

"Hello, Doc. Have you got the test results back yet?" Jackson asked.

"That's why I'm here," Barrett answered. "Chris, how are you feeling?"

"Beffer," Larabee answered.

"It sounds like your mouth is still pretty sore," the doctor observed.

"Is," the blond mumbled. "Wha' did tefs show?"

"We were able to get the salad off your tray before the cafeteria threw it out. The dressing was not ranch, but French..."

"No...had ranch..."

Barrett frowned as he opened the chart. "You're sure?"

"I know... difference!" Larabee snapped.

"Yeah, I guess you do. There's something else that's strange about all this. The salad on your tray wasn't touched."

"Afe some...Buck was here," Larabee insisted.

"I know you did, Chris. Mary told me you ate about half the salad and she also verified there was ranch dressing on it. The only thing I can think of is someone must've changed the salads after they picked up the tray."

"Why?" Jackson asked.

"Could be any number of reasons. Maybe a tray spilled and they picked up the salad off that one and placed it on your tray, but whatever the reason we won't know if there was anything in the salad."

"What about the blood tests and swab?" Jackson asked.

"There were traces of a toxin, probably from a plant, but not enough to give exact readings. The blood tests were inconclusive as well. How's your stomach feeling?"

"Nof as bad as if was."

"The NG tube seems to be keeping the nausea down," Barrett told the two men. "I'd like you to stay NPO for the rest of the night and we'll see if you can tolerate fluids tomorrow. If you can we'll take the NG tube out..."

"Again," Larabee said.

"Again," the doctor repeated. "Stick with the ice chips for now and I'll check on you in the morning. Okay?" he asked as he closed up the chart.

"Okay," Larabee agreed as he pressed the button under his left hand. The pain had finally gotten to the point where he had no choice anymore.

Barrett and Jackson both saw the hand movement and knew the patient had overextended himself again. The two men shook their heads as Barrett got up to leave.

Chris lay back against his pillow and waited for the medication to ease the discomfort throughout his body. He didn't hear Barrett leave, or hear Jackson and Sanchez talking. By the time the ex-preacher sat next to the bed the injured man was sleeping once more.

Part 43

Nathan walked into the examination room to find an empty bed and walked towards the desk. He waited for the nurse to finish talking to another patient and looked around the ER. Things seemed to have gotten busier since he'd gone to stay with Chris and he was reminded of just how hard the staff in this department worked. They dealt with sick and injured patients, their distraught family members and most of the time they never got the praise they deserved. Cutbacks were affecting hospitals throughout the country, yet the doctors and nurses did the best they could to look after those in need. He watched as a young boy was wheeled from one of the examination rooms. An IV ran into his left arm and tears ran down his cheeks. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he heard the father's attempt to sooth his son by telling him he'd sleep through the surgery and that he wouldn't feel a thing.

"Can I help you?"

Jackson turned back to the counter and smiled at the nurse there. "Can you tell me where Vin Tanner is."

She looked behind her at the board that told her where patients were, what rooms they were in and who their attending physician was and finally turned back to the man standing in front of the desk. "He's having his CT scan done. He should be back shortly and he'll be in room three," she told him and turned to the person hurrying towards the desk, calling for help.

Nathan walked back to the examination room and walked inside. He sat in the chair and let his shoulders slump. Something about Chris' illness bothered him, but he couldn't quite grasp what it was. The toxin could've been caused by a bacteria and could be explained as food poisoning, but the inflamed mouth pointed to other things. Things that Jackson hoped were not true. He shivered as he felt a touch on his shoulder, yet the touch itself was warm. A soft whisper made him turn, but he knew there'd be no one there. The words registered in his mind, but he didn't quite grasp them, as the door to the room opened and he stood up. He moved the chair out of the way as an orderly pushed a wheelchair into the room.

The first thing Nathan noticed was the way the younger man held his head in his left hand. He knew the headache was worse as the sharpshooter didn't protest the hands helping him from the chair and back to the bed. The medic watched the orderly leave and moved to the bed.

"Vin, how are you doing?" he asked worriedly.

"C...c...cold."

The tracker shivered under the thin sheet and Jackson move to the cupboard in search of something that would provide warmth for the injured man. Finding nothing that would come close to providing the comfort he knew was needed, he left the room and found the supply cart. He searched through the shelves, but only found the same thin sheets that covered patients in every ER room in every hospital he'd ever entered. He turned away in frustration, spotted Vin's nurse and hurried towards her.

"Excuse me, Judy."

The nurse looked up from the chart she was reading and smiled tiredly. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am, least I hope so. My friend's cold and I'm looking for a blanket."

Judy finally recognized the handsome man and smiled as she led him to a back room. She opened a cupboard and handed him two flannel blankets. "These should help," she told him.

Jackson smiled as he took the warm blankets in his arms. "Thanks, Judy, this is perfect," he answered as he hurried back to room three. He pushed open the door and frowned as he saw the tracker huddled under the thin sheet. Vin Tanner was a man who hated the cold and always needed extra blankets when the others were comfortable with what they had. Nathan knew it had to do with his childhood, but he'd never been able to get the full story from the younger man. He took the blankets and spread them over the patient and smiled at the muffled 'thanks' and the heavy sigh from the tired man.

"Better?"

"Y...yeah...so damn c...cold in here."

Jackson touched the sweaty forehead and had his hand batted away for his efforts.

"Quit it. I'm f...fine."

The medic smiled as he moved back to his chair, pleased that he hadn't felt any fever brewing there. 'Maybe it is just exhaustion, lord knows you haven't been eating or resting,'he thought tiredly. He picked up a magazine from the tiny table and began reading, not really interested in the words on the page.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah watched as Larabee moved on the bed, a soft moan leaving his mouth before he settled down to sleep once more. The ex-preacher knew the younger man was in more pain than he let on and he wished he could ease some of that torment. For now all he could do was provide a soft voice, and a willing ear for anything Chris Larabee wanted to hear or say.

Chris moved as if through a fog, slowly turning his head to the right until his eyes met those of the ex-preacher. The older man always seemed to have a soft smile and was always a welcome sight when confusion seemed to dominate his mind. He shook off the thick tendrils of sleep and reached for the button on the bed. He bit his lip as the head rose a few inches, affording him a better view of the room, but setting off a small fire in his hip.

"Hello, Chris."

Larabee frowned as he realized Jackson was no longer there. "Josiah, whaf fime is if?" he asked, hating the way his voice sounded.

"It's a little after nine. Can I get you anything?"

"Ice," the blond answered and sighed as the cold made the flaming interior of his mouth diminish to a more bearable level. "Fanks, shif, sound like carfoon characfer."

Sanchez couldn't help smiling at his friend's comment. "You do at that, my friend, but it won't stay that way."

"Hope nof," Larabee said sheepishly. "Where's Nafan?"

"Nathan is with Vin."

The injured man grew serious as he stared at the older man. "Do they know wha's wrong wif him yef?"

"Not yet. Nathan said he'd come up as soon as the results of the tests are back."

"He don' fake care of himself."

Sanchez' eyebrows rose and his eyes grew serious as he folded his arms across his chest. "And you do?"

"Ah, Hell, Josiah, guess you gof me."

"Guess I did," he watched as Larabee's eyes grew heavy with sleep and knew the man still had a lot of healing to do, especially with the setback he'd had that day. "Why don't you go on back to sleep?"

"Need...know abouf Vin."

"I'll wake you as soon as Nathan gets back."

"Nof sleepy."

"Then just rest your eyes and I'll read to you."

"O...kay," Larabee said and let his eyelids drop closed. "Fanks, Josiah."

"Anytime, Son," the ex-preacher vowed as he opened the book once more.

In spite of his vow that he wasn't tired Chris drifted towards sleep, content in the deep voice of the man seated beside him. The words were meant to comfort, but it was the steady familiar tones that made him feel secure enough to give into his body's demands for rest.

+ + + + + + +

Nathan looked up as the door opened and Milano came into the room. She had a chart in her hands and he watched as she walked up to the bed. He looked at the pale tracker, not surprised to see the blue eyes open and looking at the doctor.

"Mr. Tanner, I have the results of your tests," the woman said as she stood beside the bed and placed the chart on the table.

"Everything's fine right?" the sharpshooter asked.

"Well, the blood test and CT scan were negative..."

"So I can get out of here..."

"Vin, let her finish!"

"Thank you, Mr. Jackson," she said and turned her attention back to the reluctant patient. "The tests were negative, but you are showing signs of dehydration and with everything you've been through over the last couple of weeks I want to keep you..."

"Hell no!" Tanner swore.

"Overnight for observation," the doctor continued, used to obstinate patients and knowing this one would rank in the top five in that category.

"I don't need..."

"Mr. Tanner, if you continue to ignore your own health, you'll end up in here for a lot longer than overnight. If you give us a day, maybe two..."

"I..."

"Vin, would Chris want you endangering your own life?"

"Hell, Nathan, that's not fair and you know it!" He saw the smile on Jackson's face and realized the medic knew exactly what he was doing. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"I take it that means you'll be staying?" Milano asked, smiling at the three words the reluctant patient used.

"I don't seem to have a choice, at least not with the guilt maker around," Tanner hissed, but the anger had left him and the words were said as a jest.

"The nurse will be in as soon as she's made arrangements for a room..."

"I want to be with Chris!" Tanner said.

"Chris is in a private room, Vin," Jackson said.

"We don't usually do this, but I'll have the nurses check to see if there's anything close to your friend, Mr. Tanner, but there's no guarantee."

The tracker smiled his appreciation at the doctor and said softly. "Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome. Judy will also bring you something to help settle your stomach and ease that headache. I want you to get a good night's sleep, Mr. Tanner and we'll see how things are going in the morning."

"Headaches..."

"Still there!" Jackson finished and smiled at the glare sent his way.

"See, Mr. Tanner, you're not fooling anyone. Goodnight and please don't be making any late night trips to your friend's room."

"I won't."

"I'll make sure of that," Jackson promised as the doctor left.

"Shit, Nathan, I could rest at the hotel."

"You said that before, Vin, but you didn't do it," the medic said seriously. "Now why don't you rest until they get your room ready?"

"I'm in the hospital, Nathan, never get any rest here," Tanner drawled. "Always coming in to wake you up and give you a sleeping pill." Jackson's laughter was just what the sharpshooter hoped to hear and he was glad he'd cracked the small joke JD had told them the last time the kid was in the hospital. The two men looked towards the door as Vin's nurse walked in with a syringe in her hands. "Damn!"

Judy smiled at the soft curse as she uncapped the syringe. "Mr. Tanner, this should help with the headache and the nausea. It'll probably make you sleepy, so please don't go getting out of bed on your own," she explained as she injected the medications into the IV line. "I'll be back when they have a room ready for you. So just try to rest. Okay?"

"Yeah, don't seem to have much choice."

"That's right," Jackson laughed and sat down to wait for the tracker to be moved upstairs. The nurse left without a backwards glance and the medic knew the ER had gotten busier as the night went on.

"Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

"What're you gonna tell Chris?"

"The truth. That the doctor admitted you for observation, but the tests were negative and that's a good sign."

"He's still gonna worry."

"And you wouldn't if the roles were reversed? Go to sleep, Vin, I'll go see Chris after you're settled in your room."

Tanner yawned and nodded slowly. "Hate th...this..." he mumbled.

"Yeah, we all do," Jackson said softly as he watched the younger man drift towards sleep.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah looked up from the book he'd been reading and placed a finger in front of his mouth as Nathan Jackson entered. The two men looked towards the sleeping man and were glad to see he hadn't moved.

The medic signaled for Josiah to follow him outside, but the two men were stopped by a soft scratchy voice from the bed.

"How's Vin?" Larabee asked, surprised that it didn't hurt so much to talk.

"Sorry, Chris, didn't mean to wake you," Jackson said as he moved to the bed.

"Didn't, wasn't really sleeping," the blond told him. "How's Vin? What did the doctor say?"

"Vin's gonna be just fine," the medic said. "Dr. Milano said he was just exhausted and slightly dehydrated."

"Did you take him back to the hotel?" Larabee asked and saw the quick glance between his friends. "Nathan, what's going on? Whaf aren't you felling me?" His voice grew worse as worry made him speak faster.

"Chris, Dr. Milano wanted to keep Vin overnight for observation," Jackson told him. "He's just two doors down the hall."

Larabee frowned at the news and looked uncertainly at the two men. He knew they wouldn't lie to him, but he needed to know that his best friend was all right.

"Nathan..."

"Chris, he's really okay," the medic assured him. "You know Vin, he just doesn't know when to stop and this time his body finally made sure he did. I'm sure he'll be down here as soon as he wakes up."

Larabee smiled tiredly as he looked at his friends. "He's okay?"

"He's fine or he will be after a good night's sleep and a healthy meal."

"Healthy meal? You'd beffer nof give him any salad. Las' one I had was a little hof," Larabee said, glad to hear the soft laughter his comments caused the two men.

"I'll make sure to let the nurses know of your dislike for salads, Chris," Jackson said.

"Only hosfital, salads Nafan. God, s'ill soun' like a carfoon."

"Is it feeling any better, Chris?" the medic asked.

"Yeah, if is. Jus 'ired."

"Go on to sleep, Brother," Sanchez said.

"Think he already has, Josiah. I called the others to let them know what was going on. Buck's still sleeping and JD and Ezra were playing cards."

"Hope the kid doesn't lose his shirt."

"If he does it'll be his own fault. We all know Ezra is a pro, but I don't think he uses slight of hand when he plays with the rest of us."

"Most of the time he doesn't need to," Sanchez said and the two men laughed softly.

Ezra Standish was a man who'd grown up in a gambling family. He'd spent more time in private casinos than most kids spent at school. Josiah cornered him one day, after catching him cheating in a friendly game between the seven of them, and quickly found out why the younger man cheated. It wasn't because he needed to, it was because that's what he'd been taught. It didn't take long for the conman to realize his friends didn't blame him for the cheating and he vowed not to do it when playing against them. As far as he knew Ezra Standish played a straight game with those he considered his new family, but others were fair game.

"Yeah, Ezra knows how to play poker."

"I'd say it was bred into him." Sanchez thought of the men they'd seen the day Maguire was killed and knew it was more than just talent that made Ezra who he was. It was something that was passed down through generations, a sense of pride in one's accomplishments, and more importantly, in one's self.

The two men grew quiet as they watched the sleeping man. Sanchez looked away from the bed and saw the frown on Jackson's face. He knew the Medic was worried about both men, but there was something else he couldn't quite place.

"Nathan, what's wrong?"

Jackson frowned and walked away from the bed, knowing the older man would follow him. "I don't know, Josiah," he whispered. "There's just something not right about Chris getting sick like this."

"What are you getting at?"

"The salad being changed after the tray was taken. What if it was done on purpose. Not once but twice."

"Why would anyone in Washoe want to hurt Chris? He's a stranger here."

Jackson paced in short strides before stopping in front of the window.

"I know that, Josiah, but something about what happened just doesn't sit right with me."

"Too many coincidences?"

"Exactly. The salad dressing, the new one placed on Chris' tray, the toxin in the blood work, his mouth being affected, nausea, pain, everything points to some kind of poisoning."

"It could have been accidental," Sanchez said, beginning to realize there could be an unknown threat to Larabee's life.

"Yeah, it could be, but something tells me that it isn't an accident. That whoever is doing this is gonna strike again."

"I guess we need to watch his back in case this threat is real."

"Yeah, Josiah, we'd better, because I have a feeling it is and Chris is still in danger."

"You think maybe Maguire has relatives or friends who might come after him."

Jackson shook his head as he looked towards the bed. "No. I don't think this has anything to do with that animal. Don't ask me why, it's just a gut instinct."

"Then we treat it as a real threat," Sanchez assured his friend as he took the seat beside the bed once more.

Part 44

Vin opened his eyes and moved his stiff body on the bed. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was and he groaned as he sat up. He looked around the room and looked at the IV in his left hand as he slid from the bed. He looked around and wondered where his watch guard was. He grabbed onto the pole with his left hand and moved towards the washroom. He made it inside and closed the door softly.

Nathan pushed open the door and swore as he saw the empty bed and hurried into the room. He placed the coffee on the table and turned to search the room.

"Vin?" he called and sighed in relief as he heard the toilet flushing and the door open.

"What's going on, Nathan?" he asked of the medic's worried tone.

"Nothing, just..."

"Thought I'd run out on you," the tracker smiled as he headed back to the bed.

"Yeah...could say that."

"How's Chris?"

"Still sleeping. Josiah's with him."

"Where's my pants?"

"Why?" Jackson asked suspiciously.

"Hell, Nathan, I ain't goin' nowhere. I told you I'd stay until the doc said it was okay."

"So why do you need your pants?" the medic asked amused at the look on the younger man's face.

"Never said I wouldn't go visit Chris."

Jackson laughed at how easy it was to read this man when it came to seeing his best friend. He walked to the closet, pulled out the faded blue jeans and walked back to the bed.

"Sit down, Vin, and I'll help you."

"I can do it," Tanner hissed.

"I know you can," Jackson said, "but right now you have one arm immobilized and the other one has an IV. Care to tell me how you're gonna manage putting these on with no hands?"

"Shit, Nathan, hate it when you're right."

"Don't I know it?" the medic laughed as he helped the younger man into his jeans. He frowned as he pulled them up over the man's trim waist.

"Thought Chris was the one who liked his clothes tight," he said as he strained to pull them up.

"I can manage from here, Nate," Tanner blushed as he reached for the zipper and awkwardly pulled it up. "Let's go."

"Vin."

"What?"

"Shoes."

"Oh," the tracker laughed as Jackson pulled on his socks and shoes. "Thanks, Nathan, we ready now?"

"I think so. You sure you're up to it?"

"I'm fine, Nathan."

'Yeah, I think you are,'Jackson thought, relieved as he watched the younger man ease off the bed and walk towards the door.

The two men made their way to the now familiar room and Nathan held the door for the younger man. They entered to find Larabee still sleeping and Josiah sipping his coffee by the window. The older man turned towards them as they entered and smiled at the sharpshooter.

"It's good to see you with a little color again, Son," the ex-preacher said.

"Thanks, Josiah, how's he doing?"

"He's been sleeping since Nathan told him you were okay."

"Any nightmares?" Tanner asked worriedly.

"I don't think so. He's been really quiet," Sanchez assured him.

"Why don't you two go get something to eat? I'll stay with Chris."

"I don't think so, Vin," Jackson said. "You're a patient here too."

"Only until Milano makes her rounds."

"Now, Vin, it all depends on..."

"Hi, Chris," Tanner said as Larabee's eyes opened and focused on him.

"V...Vin." his throat and mouth felt better, but he couldn't stop the dry cough. "Shit," he swore and smiled as Jackson held a spoonful of ice in front of him. He savored the cold in his mouth as the tiny chips melted, giving him even more relief.

"Thanks, Nathan."

"You're welcome. I know you're probably getting tired of us asking this, but how do you feel?" the medic said as he placed the cup back on the table.

"Stiff!" Larabee answered simply. "Tired of being in this damned bed. Can you help me out of it?"

"Not until Barrett okays it, Chris," Jackson told him.

"You know, Chris, Nathan's getting to be real bossy lately," the sharpshooter exclaimed

"Yeah, I did notice that and what's worse is he seems to be enjoying it," Larabee answered.

Jackson folded his arms across his chest and smiled at the two men. He didn't say a word, but they knew he was enjoying the light conversation as much as they were.

"What can we do about it?" Tanner asked.

"I don't know. Any ideas, Josiah?"

"I'm staying out of this one," Sanchez said, smiling at the three younger men.

"Well, Chris, I'd love an office like yours and maybe a raise in pay," Jackson said seriously. "Or maybe I could just take over your office. I am getting kind of partial to that couch you have in there." The laughter was instantaneous as the medic teased Larabee about the couch they'd all used at some point in time.

"I'd say you've already spent your share of time on it," Larabee said and relaxed in the warmth of friendship, the pain of the day before, now a distant memory. He didn't know how long he lay against the pillows basking in the laughter of his friends as they continued to joke about his office and the couch, but he felt better, knowing they were there. He forced his eyes open as an unfamiliar voice sounded in the room.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here, Mr. Tanner," Milano said.

"Hi, Doc, just visiting..."

Milano held up her hands and shook her head. "You don't need to explain, Mr. Tanner, but I do need you back in your room."

Vin looked at the doctor and then back at his friend. "I'll be back," he said.

"Okay," Larabee said as the younger man stood up and left the room with the doctor. "Go with him, Nate."

"Now who's being bossy," Jackson smiled and nodded as he followed the doctor and the sharpshooter.

Chris watched them go with a feeling of anxiety and fear. He knew the tracker was getting better, but the younger man had a tendency to put himself in harms way when he didn't need to. Chris sighed heavily as he pressed the button to raise his head.

Josiah heard the sigh from the bed and placed a comforting hand on Larabee's chest. "He really is fine, Chris."

"I know he is, Josiah, but you know Vin."

"I know both of you, Son, and you both tend to put others before yourself."

Larabee smiled as he realized how true those words were, but not just for him and Vin. "Actually, Josiah, I think that can be said for every one of us."

"Maybe that's one of the things that brought us all together," Sanchez said as the door opened and Barrett entered.

"Good morning, Chris, Mr. Sanchez."

"Hello, Doc," Larabee greeted as the e-preacher moved away to give the doctor more room.

"You sound better today?"

"I am, my mouth doesn't feel like a furnace anymore."

Barrett couldn't help but smile as he placed the chart on he table. "Well, that is good news. What about the rest of you?"

"Everything seems to be getting a little easier, Doc, just stiff."

"Well, you'll probably feel that way for a while. Physiotherapy should help loosen you up again."

"Can I get out of this bed today?"

"I don't see why not, but not until you've had breakfast and I'm afraid it will be fluids today. If those stay down we'll remove the NG tube later today. I want to repeat the blood tests we did yesterday just to be sure the unknown toxin is out of your body."

"Okay," Larabee agreed, glad his voice didn't sound as bad as it did earlier.

"Dr. Hastings was pleased with the way your hip is healing and we may start getting you up and walking around tomorrow."

Larabee could help the excitement that shone in his eyes and the heated shout that escaped his throat. "Hooyah!"

Barrett laughed as he watched his patient. "I take it you like that idea."

"Hell, yeah, tired of lying down all the time."

"Well then I look forward to seeing you up and about, but just don't overdo it and don't try doing things on your own."

"He won't, Doc, we'll see to that," Sanchez interjected before Larabee had a chance to say anything.

"Good. Now if there are no more questions I'll continue with my rounds."

"No more questions," Larabee said as he met the other man's gaze. "Just want to say thanks for the talk the other day."

Barrett swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "I'm here anytime you want to talk some more."

"Thanks, Doc, but you may regret making that offer."

"No, Chris, I won't," Barrett assured him. "Just let one of the nurses know if you need anything or if you want to talk and they'll let me know. If not I'll check back with you before I leave today." He saw Larabee smile and knew the man was feeling better. He walked out the door and left the two friends alone.

"He's a good man," Sanchez said.

"Yeah, he is," Larabee said softly. "He's made it past what happened to him and made it help him be the man he is..."

"Yes, I think he has, and like him, you'll do the same thing."

"Only because I've got six men to help me. I think I need to remember to say thank you a little more often."

"We help each other, Brother, that's what keeps us strong."

Larabee didn't get a chance to answer as a lab tech came into the room to take the blood samples Barrett requested. She finished as a new nurse came in carrying his breakfast tray. He smiled as she placed it on the table and told him to eat it all. By the time he was done the pain was back and he pressed the button under his hand.

Josiah watched as the blond finally gave in and took the medication before falling into an exhausted sleep. 'Stubborn is not the word for you, my friend,'he thought with a smile.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra smiled as he spotted the woman he knew only as Pat seated at the picnic table. They hadn't seen each other since the night at the restaurant and he'd missed the smile she gave him. The closer he got to her the more of her face he could see and for a fleeting second he caught a glimpse of somethin he wasn't sure of. Her eyes seemed to lack the warmth he'd seen in them, her hands clenched and unclenched on the table. Anger seemed to be a predominant feature on her face and gave it a chilling effect. A shiver ran down his spine, but quickly dissipated as she looked his way and smiled.

"Hi, Ezra, please sit down."

"Thanks, Pat, how are you today?" he asked as he sat opposite her.

Patrice knew there was something different about the way he looked at her and she wondered how long he'd been watching her. She forced a smile to her face and tried to hide the anger she was feeling.

"Is something wrong, Ezra?" she asked softly, her eyes downcast.

"No, everything's fine, Pat," the conman assured her. "How is your friend today?"

"My friend seems a little better today, but I'm afraid that won't last. It's sort of the last hoorah as they say as I'm assured he will not live much longer."

"Miracles do happen, Pat," the gambler said as he reached across the table and took her hand in his.

"Not in his case. There are too many things stacked against him. The doctors won't be able to help him much longer," she said, but still couldn't meet his eyes for fear he would see the mirth in them.

"H...how is y...your friend?" she asked, forcing a tremor to her words.

"He's doing better."

'Not for long,' she thought as she thought of the delivery to be made to Larabee that day. A gift that would brighten his room, but would be deadly if she was able to complete her plans. The unsuspecting ICU nurse would play an integral part in what was to happen, yet she wouldn't even know it. 'Maybe she'll even be charged with his murder. Kill two birds with one stone.' Pat fought back the feeling of giddiness this caused as she lifted her eyes to meet Standish' gaze.

"I will pray that he makes a full recovery, Ezra."

"Thank you, Pat," Standish said, but again felt something odd when he looked into her eyes. "You know I still don't know your last name?"

She frowned and forced a small smile to her face. "You don't?"

Standish returned the smile as he answered. "No, I don't. Are you endeavoring to be a mystery lady?"

"No, nothing like that I assure you. It's Murphy. Pat Murphy," she answered quickly.

"Well, Pat Murphy, are you free this evening?"

"No, Ezra, I'm sorry, but I have other plans tonight and tomorrow. I have to be there for my...friend. He's going to need me to be strong for him."

"Oh, Pat, I'm sorry. How inconsiderate of me. Please forgive me for lacking..."

Patrice reached across the table and placed a hand on his cheek. "Believe me Ezra, you are not lacking in anything," she whispered.

"Neither are you," he said, but knew the words were a lie before they left his mouth. 'Who are you?'he thought as their eyes met once more.

"I'm afraid I must be going. I will be thinking about you today, Ezra, and I hope your friend continues to improve."

'No, somehow, I don't think you wish that at all,'Standish thought as he released her hand and watched her leave, not at all sorry he wouldn't be seeing her anymore. He stood up and walked into the hospital, knowing he had two friends who were patients in there and wanting to help them heal.

+ + + + + + +

Anne Sheridan stood outside the door, unsure whether she should go in or not. Chris Larabee was no longer under her care, but he was still a patient in the hospital and she didn't want to cause problems with his friends. Unfortunately the man had gotten under her skin, and she couldn't seem to think about anything else. Her dreams had been decidedly hot over the last few days, and it didn't look like things were going to get any cooler for her. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she thought about one of the dreams, and remembered the touch of the dream Chris' hands sliding over her body. The light, almost feverish touch eliciting a tremor of excitement from her body.

'Damn, Anne, that one would've garnered an NC17 rating at the movies,'she thought as she took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Her eyes instantly went to the bed and she frowned as she saw the NG tube was back, but was clamped off, and that he looked pale even in sleep. She looked towards the man sitting beside the bed and smiled at him.

"Come in," Dunne said softly as he stood up and gestured to his chair.

"Thank you, JD," she said as she stood beside the bed, ignoring the chair. "I can only stay for a few minutes. How is he doing?"

"He's better. Had a bit of a setback yesterday with some kind of toxin, but the doc says he'll take out the NG tube this evening as long as Chris keeps everything down."

"Toxin? Do they know what it's from and how he got it?"

"No, Ma'am. Well they think it was from some kind of plant and that maybe it was in his salad, but..."

"Hey, Kid, you can stop talking about me as if I'm not here," Larabee's voice was rough and held an edge of anger as he opened his eyes.

"Sorry, Chris," Dunne said apologetically.

"Ah, Hell, JD, I'm sorry," the blond said and smiled as he saw the woman standing beside his bed. "Hi, Anne," he said brightly.

"Hi, Chris, please don't blame JD for telling me what happened. I asked him about you."

"I know and I'm sorry, just chalk it up to me being moody."

"Moody? You?" Anne asked with a smile. "I never would have believed it if I hadn't heard you say it."

"Shoot, Anne, this is nothing, you should hear him when he's really in a mood."

"JD!" Larabee hissed.

"Sorry, Chris, I think I'll go see Vin. He's not nearly as moo..."

"JD!"

"Oh, sorry. See you later, Anne. I'll be right back, Chris."

"Don't hurry on my account, Kid," Larabee hissed as the bolt of energy disguised in a young man's body exited the room. "God, to be able to move like that again," he mumbled.

"You will, Chris, you just have to give yourself time," Anne assured him.

"I don't think I moved like that when I was healthy. That kid just seems to have a natural source of energy. He's always go, go, go. Hell, right now I've got two speeds, slow and stop!"

"I can't believe a man like you...Ah I mean you'll be amazed at how quickly your strength comes back."

Chris smiled at the abrupt change in her words. He smiled at the hint of color in her cheeks, knowing he could easily come to care for this woman.

"Thanks for coming by, Anne, it means a lot to me," he said. 'Hell, Larabee, what makes you think you're so special? She probably checks up on all her former patients.'

"You're welcome, Chris," she said and again felt butterflies take flight in her stomach as she saw the light in the green eyes. 'Hell, Sheridan, stop acting like a giddy school girl on her first date,'she thought.

The silence stretched as the two people stared into each other's eyes. Time seemed to stand still, and Anne found herself lost in the wonderful green depths. 'God, the man doesn't know how attractive he really is.'She felt herself losing her grip on reality as he held her gaze. His mouth turned up in a soft smile as she looked at him.

'She's beautiful,' Larabee thought as the light from the window caught the golden flecks in her brown eyes. Without realizing what he was doing his left hand reached up and he buried his fingers in the soft auburn hair. He gently pulled her towards him until their lips met, the contact was electrical and the charge seemed to generate feelings deep into both hearts.

They held the kiss until the need to breathe forced them apart. Their eyes locked as forcefully as their lips had moments before, and neither could find the energy to speak.

"Chris...I..."

"Anne...I..."

They laughed, there was nothing else they could do as the words left their mouths at the same time.

Chris reached for her hand and knew he wanted a chance to explore his growing feelings for the incredible woman standing over him.

"Anne, I'm not gonna apologize for doing that..."

"N...no, please don't. It was my fault..."

"Hell, No!" Larabee said forcefully. "I wanted that...I couldn't stop it from happening. I didn't want to stop it from happening!"

Anne placed her fingers over his mouth and smiled. "Me either, Chris, but are you sure it's not..."

"I'm not sure what it's not, Anne, but I'd like to find out once they release me from this place."

"I'd like that too." She looked at her watch and frowned. "I have to go, Chris..."

"Will you come by again?"

"Of course," she smiled at him. "You just keep doing what they tell you too."

"I will," Larabee said as their eyes met once more. "Thanks, Anne."

"You're welcome, Chris. I'll drop by for a few minutes after my shift ends in the morning."

"That'd be great," Larabee said as he watched her walk towards the door. She turned and their eyes locked once more and Chris felt as if he'd found something he'd lacked since Sarah's death. It didn't feel like a betrayal of her love this time, it just felt right and he sighed contentedly as the door closed behind her.

Part 45

JD opened the door slowly and looked into the room. He smiled as he turned to his companion.

"He's alone, Vin."

Tanner nodded and waited for the younger man to open the door all the way. When he did Larabee's eyes shot open and he smiled at the two men.

"Hi, Vin, JD." He frowned as he looked at the tracker. "Guess you're not getting out of here today," he said.

Tanner pushed the IV pole into the room and took the chair beside the bed. Milano wanted him to stay one more night until they were sure he wasn't going to be sick any more, but Vin protested vehemently until his friends asked to speak with him privately. Nathan and Josiah convinced him to stay by telling him of Jackson's suspicions regarding what happened to Chris. He knew they were telling him because they wanted him to stay at the hospital, not because they wanted him to stand guard, but because they knew him well enough to know he wouldn't stay otherwise.

"No, it seems Dr. Milano has taken a shine to me," the sharpshooter said with a grin.

"Oh, hell, Vin," Larabee laughed. "You've been hanging around Buck and his animal magnetism too long."

Tanner leaned in close as he picked up the wet cloth from the table. "I think you got that wrong, Stud."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Larabee asked and sputtered as the tracker wiped the area around his lips.

"Seems to me you're the one who's been hanging around Buck, Stud!" he said as he showed Larabee the lipstick evidence on the cloth. "Are you blushing, Cowboy?"

"Shut up, Vin!" the blond hissed as he took the cloth and washed the rest of the evidence from his face.

"Was she a good kisser?"

Tanner's eyebrows rose up and down in a perfect imitation of Groucho Marx and Larabee had no choice but to give into the laughter.

"That's none of your business, Tanner!"

"Ah, Hell, Chris, ya know I can keep a secret."

"Yeah, well, I don't kiss and tell," Larabee told him as JD filled the pitcher with ice and water once more, and refilled his glass.

"Thanks, Kid."

"You're welcome," Dunne said, looking up as the door opened and a volunteer came in.

"Mr. Larabee?" the young man asked.

"That's right."

"I've got a delivery for you. Where would you like me to put them?" he asked.

"On the table there would be fine," Larabee said, pointing to the table beside his bed.

"Would you like me to open it for you?"

"No, thanks, but I think we can handle it from here," the blond said.

"Okay, you have a good day," he said and hurried out the door.

"Want me to open it, Chris?" Dunne asked.

"Yeah, go ahead," the patient answered and smiled as the kid ripped the paper from the bouquet.

"Boys, you didn't have to," Larabee said as the scent of flowers quickly tickled his senses. The crystal vase was filled with roses, carnations and other flowers he couldn't name.

"Ah, Chris, they're not from us," Dunne said as he removed the card.

"They're not!"

"I don't think so," the kid said and passed the card to his boss.

Larabee looked at the card and felt the flush on his face again. Hope you feel better, Chris-Anne

"Who's it from, Chris?" Tanner asked.

"A friend," the blond answered.

"I figured that, but what friend?"

The injured man smiled as he looked at the tracker, but didn't answer.

The sharpshooter smiled as he realized who'd sent the flowers. "It's her isn't it, Chris? The pretty nurse from ICU sent them, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Larabee answered softly.

"Looks like Buck's got competition, Stud," he repeated the nickname.

"She's just being a friend, Vin."

"Sure wish I had a friend like that. How about you, JD?"

"Yeah, I could use some of that kind of TLC," Dunne joined in the teasing.

"I'm glad you two are enjoying yourself on my account," Larabee hissed. "Isn't it time you went back to the hotel, Kid?"

"Nah, I got nothing to do there but lose to Ezra at cards."

"You're out of your league playing cards with Ez," Larabee said. "We all are."

"Yeah, Ezra's forgotten more about cards than we'll ever know. The only sure bet with him is not to bet against him," Tanner told them.

"Yeah, and he doesn't even have to cheat to beat us," Dunne agreed and they all laughed.

Chris yawned and settled back against his pillow once more. He was tired again, but at least he wasn't in pain.

"You boys can stay if you like, but I'm going to get some sleep."

"You do that, Chris, we got your back," Tanner told him.

Larabee frowned at the tracker's choice of words, but marked it down to worry over his health. He sighed contentedly as the scent of the fresh cut flowers reminded him of his ranch. It wasn't long before he was asleep and dreaming, but this time the dream was a pleasant one. He rode Pony along the trail between his and Tanner's ranch, but he wasn't alone on the gelding's back. He knew without looking who's arms were wrapped around his bare torso, and he smiled as her fingers slowly trailed a path of fire along his ribs, stopping just above the waist of his black jeans. He sighed contentedly as her mouth nipped at the back of his neck, biting, teasing, and tantalizing his senses in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Something at the edge of his vision caught his eye, a blur of blond hair and an angered face, but it disappeared before his mind registered the intrusion into his dreams and he sank into a deeper, dreamless sleep.

+ + + + + + +

She watched the door, waiting for the opportunity to present itself. All she needed was two minutes alone in the room with Larabee sleeping. She was wearing the cleaner's uniform again and had covered the ID to make it look like it had been immersed in water. The picture and words were blurred, and would pass a quick inspection from a distance. She watched the door as it opened and two men stepped out. One wearing a hospital gown and jeans, the other in camouflage pants and T-shirt. She smiled as she overheard part of the conversation.

"JD, I'm okay. I can get to my room on my own."

"Look, Vin, you just got dizzy. I'll just make sure you get there and come right back with Chris. Besides the nurses desk is right there."

Patrice watched as they walked down the hallway and pushed her broom in front of her. 'No one ever notices the cleaning lady,' she thought as she opened the door and hurried inside. She listened for a few seconds, smiling as she heard the deep, soft snoring from the injured man. She quickly lifted the vase of flowers and poured the water from it into the pitcher of ice water beside it. She finished quickly and placed the vase back on the nightstand. 'Sleep well, Larabee, because it'll be the last good night's sleep you'll have. I hope you're death is a painful one,'she thought as she turned and hurried out of the room.

JD returned to Larabee's room just as the door closed and frowned as he looked around. The only people he saw were the nurses and a cleaning lady sweeping the floor near the desk. He hurried back into the room and was glad to see the injured man was still sleeping.

+ + + + + + +

Chris groaned as he opened his eyes and shifted upwards in the bed. The day had been a long one, but he felt better than he had in a long time, the NG tube was gone and he was hopeful that this time it was gone for good. Buck had picked up JD and would be back in the morning. They joked about the bouquet of flowers and teased him about Anne Sheridan. Josiah Sanchez was once more seated beside the bed, the TV turned on, but the volume down low.

"Josiah?" Larabee called as he raised the head of his bed once more.

"Well, hello, Chris, did you sleep well?" the ex-preacher asked.

"Yeah, slept fine. How's Vin?"

"He was here a few minutes ago and is looking and feeling much better. Can I get you anything?"

"Just some water. Always seems so damn dry in hospitals," Larabee said as Josiah filled a glass from the pitcher.

Chris took it and drank half of it before placing the glass on the table in front of him. "Thanks, damn that's cold."

"In that case I think I'll join you." Sanchez lifted the pitcher and poured some into his own empty coffee cup.

"Anything any good on?"

"The usual game shows and a couple of westerns, but nothing all that interesting," Sanchez said and drank half the water in the cup. He frowned at the odd taste, but chalked it down to the remnants of the strong coffee the cup had held.

Chris reached for the glass and continued to sip at the ice cold water, savoring the cool moisture as it slid down the back of his throat.

"Is there anything you'd like to watch, Chris?" Sanchez asked.

"Not really, whatever you were watching is fine by me."

"Stargate has just opened a new season."

Larabee laughed as he nodded his head and made himself comfortable.

"I didn't know you liked Stargate, Josiah."

"Well, I've always loved Sci fi, Chris, and this is one of the better shows."

"Yeah, isn't Danny dead in this season?"

"Let's just say he's ascended to another plane of existence."

"Hmm, I know a few people like that," Larabee laughed as they settled in to watch the show. Chris frowned as his stomach churned and wondered if he was completely over the toxin poisoning. He pressed the button to deliver the first dose of Morphine he'd taken since morning and tried to concentrate on the TV.

+ + + + + + +

Nathan rolled onto his back, moaning in his sleep as he tried to grasp the message he was given. His arm came up to cover his eyes as the blanket slipped off his bare chest. He could see a shadowy image forming in his mind and realized it was his ancestor. The man was speaking to him, but the words did not make sense at first and Nathan's sleep befuddled mind continued to try and catch the elusive words.

"Larkspur," he mumbled and turned on his side.

'That's right, but now she's using another plant. You have to get to the hospital, Son. Their lives depend on you. Look in the vase. The answer is there.'

"Vase...answer...there," Jackson muttered as his eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright in the bed. He grabbed his hastily discarded clothes and quickly pulled on his shirt and pants as a pair of sleepy eyes turned towards him from the second bed.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Jackson?"

"Yeah, Ez, and if we don't get to the hospital we may be to late to do anything about it! Get Buck and JD and meet me downstairs in five minutes!"

Standish didn't bother to ask questions as he grabbed his own clothing and pulled them on.

Five minutes later, four worried men were on their way to the hospital, knowing a friend's life depended on them.

+ + + + + + +

Anne Sheridan hurried up the stairs to the ICU, frowning as a woman rushed by her. There was something familiar about the blond, yet the woman disappeared onto the next floor so quickly she didn't have time to make the connection. She shrugged her shoulders and continued up to her own floor, her mind wondering to the soft kiss she'd shared with Chris Larabee, happy he was no longer her patient. She hummed as she opened the door and stepped through, knowing her patients seemed at ease if they heard familiar sounds and saw familiar faces.

+ + + + + + +

Chris frowned and blinked his eyes as the TV seemed to fade in and out. He lifted his left hand and rubbed against the lids in an effort to focus his vision, but the room continued to wink in and out as he shook his head. He licked his lips and reached for the glass of water, sipping the remainder of the liquid. Stargate had ended long ago, and he knew he'd dozed for a short period of time, but couldn't grasp how long.

Josiah watched as his friend reached for the glass and wondered what was wrong. He winced as he moved to refill the empty glass as his stomach grumbled. 'Shouldn't have had that damn spicy sausage,'he thought as he filled the blond's glass and reached for his own cup. He looked at his friend and frowned at the beads of sweat breaking out on Larabee's forehead.

"Chris, are you all right?"

The injured man lay back against the pillow, wincing as a pounding began in his skull and nausea built in a tidal wave in his stomach. Cramps hit him and he doubled up on the bed, crying out as his legs moved and sent shards of pain stabbing through his hip.

"D...don't th...ink...so...J'siah!" he hissed.

"Hang on, Brother, I'll get help!"

"...kay..." the blond continued to writhe on the bed, oblivious to everything, but the burning sensation in his gut, the pain lancing through his body, and the spinning room around him.

"I need help in here!" Sanchez shouted and saw the nurse at the desk raise her head and stand up.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, just get the damn doctor up here! Now!" Sanchez shouted and hurried back into the room.

"Easy, Chris," he said as he rushed to the bed. "Help's on the way!"

"Je...sus, J'siah, si...ick," he cried as his stomach churned and the nausea continued to roll around in his stomach.

Sanchez rubbed Larabee's shoulder, wondering what was happening and how the violent tremors wracking his friend's body would affect the broken hip and other injuries. He looked at the door as two nurses rushed into the room.

"What's going on, Josiah?"

"I don't know, Julia. He was fine earlier, but now he's..." the ex-preacher groaned softly and clutched at his stomach, but kept watching the nurses working on the patient.

"Chris," Julia tried, hoping to get through to the sick man. "We need to get you to lie on your back so we can take a look at you," Julia explained.

"C...cccan't...h...hurts...oh...God!" He cried as severe cramps attacked his abdomen.

"Carolyn, his skin is cold and clammy..." she turned as she heard a hiss from the other man in the room. She saw him sway and rub at his eyes. "Josiah, what's wrong?"

"Not sure...thought it was what I ate," the ex-preacher said and sat in the chair by the window. "I'm okay, just take care of Chris."

Julia pressed the button on Larabee's pillow and waited for a nurse to answer. When the call came through she spoke quickly and sharply.

"Sandy, get a gurney in here and find out how long before Dr. Bridger can get up here?"

"Right away, Julia," the voice answered.

"J'siah, w...what's wrong?" Larabee hissed as he rocked back and forth on the bed, unable to control his body's reaction. His head pounded in tempo with the throbbing pain that assaulted every inch of his body, but his eyes remained fixed on the man seated in the chair. He felt the nurse's hands on his arms and legs as they tried to straighten his body and cried out as he was turned onto his back.

"G...God..." he hissed as he tried to alleviate the cramps by pulling his legs up.

"Just lie still Chris," Julia warned him as she checked the flow on his IV.

The door opened and a gurney was wheeled into the room by an orderly and a third nurse.

"Julia, Dr. Bridger is on his way up now. What's going no?"

"I don't know, but it seems to involve the two of them. Get Josiah on the stretcher and down to the ER!"

"I'm okay," Josiah said, not wanting to leave until he was sure Larabee was okay.

"Josiah, listen to me," Carolyn tried. "We need to find out what's going on with both of you. You both seem to be having cramps," she said as she watched the orderly help the man stand and move to the stretcher.

"We need to find out what's causing this," Julia told him.

""Okay," Sanchez agreed. "Chris, you damn well better be here when I get back!"

"N...not pl...plannin'...on going an...anywhere!" Larabee hissed tiredly.

Part 46

Vin slid his legs over the edge of the bed and looked towards the clock on the far wall. He knew Chris was probably sleeping, but he wasn't tired and knew Sanchez would be there. He always enjoyed talking to the soft spoken ex-preacher. The man had a way with words and always seemed to be able to talk about anything and get his point across. He looked at the hated IV pole and knew he'd be getting rid of it first thing in the morning. He felt so much stronger and wanted out of the hospital and he wasn't listening to anyone else who tried to manipulate him. 'It ain't gonna work anymore, Cowboy!'he thought as he pulled open the door.

Vin frowned at the activity in the hallway as a Gurney was rushed out of Larabee's room, a familiar form lying on top of it, on his side, legs drawn up to his chest.

"Josiah!" he called as the elevator doors opened and Nathan, JD, Buck, and Ezra hurried out. "Shit!"

Vin raced for Larabee's room, nearly tripping in his IV pole in his haste to find out what was going on. He heard Jackson ask the nurse where she was taking Sanchez just as he entered the room to find two nurses examining his friend.

"Chris!" he called as he saw the pain on his friend's face.

"What've we got, Julia?" Bridger asked, racing into the room just ahead of Nathan Jackson and Buck Wilmington.

"Abdominal cramps, nausea, skin is cold and clammy, headache," she answered as she attached a BP cuff to Larabee's arm.

"Doc, what the hell happened?" Wilmington asked.

"Who are these people?" Bridger asked as he listened to his patient's heart.

"Friends of Chris'," Carolyn answered.

"Well get them out of here!" Bridger snapped. "Chris?"

Larabee opened his eyes and tried to focus on the man who called his name.

"Can you tell me what caused this?" the doctor asked.

"D...don't kn...know...ju...just star...ted..." he tried to pull his legs up.

"We need you to lie still, Chris," Julia told him as she finished with the vitals.

"Julia, his heartbeat is a little slow. Let's get started on bloodwork and put him on a full mask. Tell the lab I want the results Stat!" Bridger ordered.

Jackson pulled his eyes away from the man on the bed and looked at the vase of flowers. Something about it nagged at him and he tried to remember the exact warning he'd been given.

"You men will have to leave!" Carolyn warned as Julia hurried to take the requested blood samples.

Vin shook his head as he continued to be hypnotized by the pain filled face of his best friend. "Not 'til we know what's..."

"Look, we need to run tests and we need you to wait outside. I promise I'll let you know as soon as we know anything," Carolyn told him.

Buck looked at the pale tracker and knew the shock of seeing Larabee like this was taking a toll on him. He looked at his long time friend and saw the slight nod towards the door. He knew the blond wanted him to get Vin out of the room and he nodded back, sighing at the look of relief that briefly crossed the ill man's face.

"Come on, Vin, we need to let them help Chris," Wilmington said.

"Can't leave him, Buck," the tracker hissed softly.

"You're not...we're not, Vin. We'll wait just outside the door," the ladies man assured him as he reached for the trembling man.

"Not gonna go far, Cowboy," Tanner said as he was led from the room.

"Nathan, you coming?" Wilmington asked.

"Y...yeah...be right there," the medic said as he walked to the small bedside table, keeping out of the way of the doctor and two nurses. He frowned as he looked at the vase of flowers, the forgotten warning from the day before prying its way out of his subconscious.

"Roses..." Jackson mumbled

"Chris, just relax for me," Bridger said.

"Carnations...Nathan hissed.

"Julia, his heartbeat is really irregular here. We need to find out what's causing this!" The doctor warned them as he gently palpated his patient's abdomen.

"Baby's breath," the medic frowned as he listed the flowers in the vase.

"....sick..." Larabee wheezed as the cramps continued unabated.

Jackson looked at the final flower and tried to remember what was so ominous about the beautiful wonder of nature. His eyes lit up and he turned towards the people around Larabee's bed.

"I know what it is!" the medic snapped.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra and JD stood outside the examination room where an ER nurse and doctor were taking care of Sanchez. So far they'd taken blood samples and were setting up an IV, but that was all the two men knew.

The youngest member of the team paced back and forth, barely holding his emotions in check as he wondered what was happening to two of the six men he looked up to. This was his family, and when they hurt, he hurt, and right now his own stomach was tied up in knots.

"Why don't they come out and tell us what's going on?" he asked as he stopped in front of the door for the tenth time since they'd arrived in the ER.

"It's only been fifteen minutes, JD. They won't know anything until they get the results of the tests back."

Dunne looked towards the gambler, fighting to keep his fears from showing, but unable to do so as he remembered his last image of Josiah Sanchez trembling on the stretcher.

"He's going to be all right, isn't he, Ezra?"

"I'm sure Josiah will be just fine."

"Wish we knew what was going on with Chris."

"Me too, and I'm sure someone will come down and let us know as soon as they get a chance." He watched as the younger man began pacing again, his hands running threw his hair as he passed the closed door.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah lay on his back and tried to think, but pain and nausea made it nearly impossible to do so. He felt the nurse take blood samples and insert the IV but he wasn't sure why that was being done.

"Mr. Sanchez?"

The ex-preacher turned to look at the doctor who'd given his name as Stanfield and swallowed against the building nausea.

"I need to ask you a couple of questions."

"O...kay," the patient groaned.

"Was there anything you and Mr. Larabee could have eaten to cause this?"

"N...no...didn't eat together," Josiah told him, frowning as he tried to think, but couldn't clear his head of the cobwebs invading his mind. "W...water..." his voice trailed off as he closed his eyes and wondered how Chris Larabee was faring.

"I'd rather you didn't have anything by mouth right now, Mr. Sanchez," the doctor explained and watched as the patient seemed to be trying to tell him something.

"No..." Sanchez's frustrated voice hissed. "...water...me and Chris...drank...same water!"

+ + + + + + +

"I know what's doing this!" Jackson said as he picked up the vase and grabbed one of the flowers.

"What are you talking about, Mr. Jackson?" Julia asked.

"They've been poisoned."

"What?" Bridger asked as he continued to examine his patient.

"Lily of the Valley. It's a toxin from this flower. Nausea, abdominal pain, headache, clammy skin, and irregular heartbeat."

Bridger turned from his patient and frowned. "I know Lily of the Valley is poisonous when consumed, but..."

"It's probably in the water..." Jackson said, not really hearing the doctor.

"But why would they..."

"Look, Doc, my bet is it somehow got into the water they were drinking," The medic said and hurried to the bed.

"Chris, did you and Josiah drink the water in the pitcher."

"Y...yeah...J'siah was th...thirsty...hospital d...dry," Larabee answered.

"That gives us a place to start," Bridger said. "Carolyn, get the water in the pitcher to the lab. Tell them we're looking for a toxin possibly produced from a flower called Lily of the Valley!"

"Yes, Doctor," Carolyn said as she grabbed the pitcher and frowned at finding it empty.

"Take this!" Jackson said as he passed her Larabee's glass.

"Have those analyzed as quickly as possible!" Bridger ordered.

"G...God," the blond cried out as the cramping and nausea intensified.

"Mr. Jackson, I'd like you to leave now!" the doctor snapped and turned back to his patient.

Nathan took one last look at Chris Larabee and knew there was nothing more he could do and that he'd just be in the way if he stayed. He also realized Vin Tanner needed him right now to make sure he got the rest he needed. He turned away from his friend and walked out of the room to find the two men standing on either side of the door. Two sentries, who needed to stand guard over a downed comrade. He knew they'd seen the nurse hurry from the room just before he did and was ready for the burst of questions from the two men.

"Nathan, what's wrong with Chris?" Wilmington asked and Jackson held up his hand to stop them from asking more questions.

The medic took a deep breath and looked at his two friends.

"Buck, you remember what I told you when we were at the hotel?"

"About the message from...

"Yeah, well I remembered what he told me in that dream, both dreams," Jackson explained.

"What?" Tanner asked.

"He said Chris and Josiah would get sick and to look at the vase. That something so beautiful can make us forget how deadly it can be."

"Nathan!" the ladies man snapped frustrated at the medic's seeming to beat around the bush.

"Lily of the Valley," Jackson told them.

"What's a flower got to do with what's wrong with, Chris and Josiah?" Wilmington asked as an older man hurried towards them and pushed his way into the room.

"Who the hell is that?" Tanner asked.

Carolyn was returning and heard the question and tried to alleviate some of their concern, but she knew her next words would only add to the tension.

"That's Dr. Albert Foster. He's a cardiologist."

"What?" Buck and Vin asked at once.

Jackson knew the effects of the toxin produced by the flower and he looked at his friends.

"One of the problems with Lily of the Valley is that it effects the heart..."

"Fuck!" the ladies man cursed and stomped across the floor, slamming his hands on the wall.

"That's not gonna help anything, Buck," Jackson warned.

"Nathan, how long before they know if it's the flower?" the tracker asked.

"They'll test for that right away and Dr. Bridger told them to make it a priority. I don't think it'll take much time."

"We need to find out who is trying to poison Chris," the sharpshooter said softly.

"Yeah, we do, but where do we start?" Jackson asked.

"I wish I knew," Wilmington said as he watched a cleaner wiping up a spill near the elevator. He shook his head and turned back to his friends.

"We start with finding out if there's anyone in the hospital who might've known Chris before and is holding some kind of grudge against him," Tanner told them.

Buck frowned as something tugged at him, something about the last few days at the hospital.

"Buck, what is it?" Jackson asked.

"I'm not sure, Nathan, but..."

"What?" Tanner asked.

"The person doing this might be closer than we think," Wilmington said.

"What makes you say that?" he medic asked.

"A feeling..."

"Well then we go on that!" Tanner said and found the other two staring at him. "Look, so far we've been given little signs of what's going on. Sometimes we see someone or just hear something, but other time it's a feeling, an instinct, and we haven't been steered wrong yet. Buck..."

"I know, Vin. I'll keep trying to remember what's bugging me about this."

"Good, because I don't think this person is going to stop until Chris is dead," the tracker hissed.

Part 47

Ezra had finally gotten tired of watching the kid pace and sent him for coffee. Not that he really wanted it, but it did give the kid a chance to unravel his tangled nerves. He was now sitting in the ER room with Josiah Sanchez. The older man seemed to be resting, but the gambler could tell he was in considerable pain. They'd hooked him up to a heart monitor and an oxygen mask, but there was still no clue as to what was causing the symptoms. The test results were due back any time, and Standish kept looking at the clock on the wall. Buck had been down to tell them what Jackson said and they were waiting for word on it. He looked up and placed his finger over his mouth as JD came into the small room.

"I got your coffee," the kid whispered.

"Thank you, JD," Standish said softly.

"How is he?"

"He's resting right now."

"Any word?"

"Not yet I'm afraid. Hopefully the results will be back soon."

"What's taking so long?" Dunne hissed and frowned at the soft moan from Josiah Sanchez. He waited for the older man to go back to sleep and breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the even breathing.

"JD, this is a large hospital and these things do take time. I'm sure they're working as fast as they can," the gambler told him.

"Yeah, I know, Ez, it just seems worse when you're waiting to hear about someone you care about."

"Yes, it does, JD, it always does." Standish watched as the kid leaned against the wall and the room was quiet once more.

+ + + + + + +

Bridger nodded as Foster looked over the test results and told him what needed to be done. They'd already decided to put Larabee on a Lidocaine drip and transfer him back to the ICU as a result of the irregular heartbeat. Now, the results of the tests confirmed the toxin from the flower and they could start treating the two sick men. Sanchez' symptoms didn't seem as bad as Larabee's but the older man would be spending a night or two in the hospital until they were sure the poison was out of his system.

Bridger knew Tanner, Wilmington, and Jackson were in Larabee's room and he knew they'd remain in close proximity now that the medic's suspicions were proven right. There was no way the presence of the toxin in the water was an accident. The fact that this was the second attempt to poison Larabee in two days was enough to bring the police into it.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Vin sat beside the bed, holding his friend's left hand in his own. Larabee was listless as he tried to get comfortable on the bed. Nothing the doctors did helped him, but he seemed to realize his friends were there and tried to keep most of the pain inside.

"Easy, Cowboy," Tanner said as he released the fingers and gently swiped at the stray strands of sweat soaked blond hair.

The sick man opened his eyes and tried to focus on the man beside the bed. "V...Vin."

"Yeah, I'm here, Chris. So are Buck and Nathan."

"J'siah's s...sick."

"Yeah, he is, but you'll both be okay once the docs find out what's going on," Tanner told him as the nurse checked the portable heart monitor beside Larabee's bed.

"D...don't f...feel so g...good r...right...now."

"I know you don't, but it won't be much..." he stopped as the door opened and Bridger and Foster came in.

"If you gentlemen could wait outside I'll be out in a couple of minutes to tell you what we've found," Bridger told them.

Jackson knew they needed to let the doctors treat Chris and he looked at Wilmington and Tanner.

"Come on, you two. Let's let the doctors do what they need to do," the medic said.

"We'll be back, Chris," Tanner assured his friend, their eyes met and a silent signal passed between them. An assurance that whatever happened, Vin Tanner would always be around to watch Larabee's back and vice versa.

Wilmington nodded to the blond as moisture built in his eyes and he hurried from the room before Larabee could see how much this affected him.

Bridger looked at the patient as a nurse pushed a cart into the room. "Chris." He waited until his patient looked at him.

"Nathan Jackson was right about the toxin in your system, It's from the plant called lily of the valley. We're going to give you a shot of Atropine and I need you to take something for me."

"Wh...what?" the blond hissed.

"It's called activated charcoal and it'll help neutralize the toxin," Bridger said as Foster injected the atropine into the IV.

"C....can't..." Larabee muttered tiredly, not wanting to eat or drink anything as the pain in his abdomen continued unabated.

"Chris, you need this," Foster tried.

"...just c...can't...s...sick..."

"Yes, you can!" Bridger snapped impatiently. He knew the man on the bed was not feeling very well, but he needed to have his cooperation.

"Sh....shit!"

"Come on, Chris," Foster cajoled. "At least give it a try."

Larabee looked at the nurse and saw the sympathy on her face as she readied the powder. He closed his eyes and nodded his head slightly, knowing they were trying to help him.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra looked up as the door opened and Stanfield and an ER nurse hurried in.

"Tell me you've got something!" Standish said hopefully.

"We do. It appears your friend ingested a toxin from the lily of the valley," Stanfield said.

Sanchez' eyes opened and he tried to focus on the people in the room, but the pounding in his skull made his eyes slam shut before, he recognized anyone.

"If you two will excuse us for a few minutes we'll try to make Mr. Sanchez a little more comfortable?" Stanfield said.

"Let's go, JD," Standish said and hurried the younger man out of the hospital room.

"Mr. Sanchez, we need you to take something called activated charcoal. It'll help neutralize the toxin in your stomach."

"O...kay..."

"It's not going to be pleasant, but I need you to try and keep it down. I'm also going to give you a shot of Atropine and then we'll get you in a room."

Sanchez nodded as the nurse readied the necessary medication. He let his eyes slide closed for a few minutes until the nurse asked him if he was ready and the fight to swallow the charcoal began. His mind wandered to the man in the room upstairs and he prayed Chris Larabee would be all right.

+ + + + + + +

Bridger came out of the room and found the three men standing in the same position he'd found them earlier. He hurried towards them and gestured to a small conference room across from the nursing station. He held the door until the three men were inside and followed them in.

"Have a seat," he said.

"What's going on, Doc?" Wilmington asked as he sank heavily into a chair.

"You know about the toxin so I won't go into that. We've given him activated charcoal to help neutralize it. We've also started him on a Lidocaine drip..."

"Shit!" Jackson hissed.

"What's wrong Nathan?" Tanner asked.

"It means they'll be transferring Chris back to ICU," the medic said and saw the truth of his words in the doctor's eyes.

"What? Why?" the ladies man asked angrily.

"Irregular heartbeat," Jackson said.

"That's correct," Bridger said. "There's cardiac involvement here and in Chris' weakened condition it's extremely dangerous. We need to get him stable and hopefully the lidocaine will do that, but he needs to be under constant care. We'll be moving him to ICU immediately.

"Will this fuckin' nightmare ever end?" Wilmington hissed.

"Easy, Buck," Jackson said. "How long before we can see him?"

"Give it at least an hour. Check with the nurses at the desk before you go in."

"We will, Doc, thanks," Jackson said.

"You're welcome," Bridger said and looked at the pale man seated in the chair. "I think you need to get Mr. Tanner back to his room."

"I'm fine..."

"No, you're not, Vin. This is hard on all of us and you're already a patient here." Jackson warned.

"Come on, Vin, we'll get you back to bed..."

"Gotta see Chris..."

"In the morning, after you've had some sleep," the medic said.

"Listen to your friends, Mr. Tanner. Get some rest and you'll be in better shape to help your friends," Bridger said.

Vin stood up and swayed drunkenly and knew they were right, but that didn't make it any easier. He looked at Wilmington and nodded, as if turning over the watch to his friend.

"Come on, Vin, I'll get you back to your room. Buck, you check on Josiah."

"I will, Nathan," the ladies man said and the four men left the room.

+ + + + + + +

During the hours they waited for Larabee and Sanchez to be situated the four healthy men talked to the police and tried to come up with a list of suspects. The list was small, but each person had an opportunity, if not a motive.

Anne Sheridan denied having sent the flowers and the police were checking her story. She was not to be allowed into Larabee's ICU room until her story was checked out and that would not happen until they talked to the owner of the flower shop.

Other names on the list included Barrett, Milliard and three other people who had contact with Chris Larabee from the beginning of his stay at Washoe. Of all the names on the list, one seemed to stand out above the others.

Patrice Milliard, the lab tech who lost her job because of her lack of respect for the patients. The woman quit her job, but Wilmington and the others knew how anger could make a person long for revenge. The list was now in the hands of the police, but the four healthy members of Larabee's team planned to do a little investigating of their own.

+ + + + + + +

Buck sat on the chair in ICU and rubbed at his burning eyes. Lack of sleep and worry for his friends had combined to make him short tempered. He looked up as Betsy changed the IV over Larabee's head. He was familiar with the nurse and knew she'd do everything to make his friend comfortable. He looked towards the door and saw the police officer standing in front of the window.

"Damn, Chris, I thought Vin was the trouble magnet, but, hell you seem to have your own magnetic personality lately and it's attracting the wrong kind of people."

Larabee heard the familiar voice and fought to open his eyes. He felt lousy and for a brief moment couldn't understand why. He licked his lips and frowned at the gritty feeling in his mouth. Memory returned and with it came the fight he'd had to get the activated charcoal down and keep it there.

The ladies' man watched as Larabee's head rocked back and forth on his pillow, before the eyes finally made it open and stared at him.

"Welcome back," he said solemnly.

"Thanks, Buck," Larabee hissed, his voice cracking dryly. He turned towards the nurse as she offered him a glass with a straw. He sipped the cold water, but stopped when his stomach churned.

"Just let me know when you want more, Chris," Betsy told him.

"I will," the blond assured her, before turning back to Wilmington.

"I gotta tell you, Chris, I'm starting to think this is a conspiracy."

The injured man frowned and asked. "What?"

"Adding years..."

Ah, hell, Buck, don't start," Larabee laughed, knowing the next words would tell him how he was adding years and grey hair to the scoundrel's life.

"Well it's true..."

"You've given me just as many..."

"Yeah, and we know you can't afford them, but that doesn't seem to bother Anne..."

Chris shook his head, knowing his friend would always try to lighten his dark mood. 'Hope you never change, Buck,'he thought and took a deep breath, wincing as it tugged at sore ribs.

Wilmington saw the change come over his friends face and grew concerned.

"You alright, Chris?"

"Yeah, just thinking."

"Dangerous thing to do in here," the ladies' man said softly.

"Don't I know it. How are Josiah and Vin?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Vin's ready to get out as soon as Milano okays it. He'd be up here now only he doesn't want to miss her."

"What about Josiah?"

"He's gonna be staying in for a couple of days," Wilmington said and saw the pain on Larabee's pale face. "He's gonna be fine, Chris. The doctor says he didn't ingest as much as you did. It also helped that he was healthy to start with and means he won't need to stay as long as you do. He really is going to be fine."

"Thank God," Larabee whispered and lifted his gaze to meet his friends once more.

"Buck, what the hell happened? I mean I remember bits and pieces, but nothing seems to fit. How the hell did me and Josiah end up poisoned?"

"We're not sure yet, Chris. What do you remember?"

"Seem to remember someone saying something about lily of the valley...and the water being mixed with ours...and having to eat charcoal," Larabee's tongue flicked out and a look of distaste covered his face. "Not touching that shit again, think the toxin would've tasted better."

"Probably," Wilmington laughed. "Seriously, Chris, Josiah's gonna be fine, and so will you as long as you do what the doctors say."

"So how did the toxin get from the vase into the water we drank?"

"That's what we're working on finding out. So far we've got a list of suspects who might have wanted to hurt you..."

"Me? What about Josiah?"

"Are you forgetting this is the second time you were hit with a poison?"

"Oh, hell, my mind's just not working properly," Larabee winced as his head seemed to be on the verge of exploding.

"Headache back?"

"Yeah, don't think it left. So who's on the list of suspects? Can't be too many...don't know that many people here and only remember one Pariah," Larabee said, closing his eyes against the pounding in his skull.

Wilmington's mind was working overtime as vague images of a blond lab tech flashed before his mind.

Part 48

Chris opened his eyes and looked around the room. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but he frowned when he realized he was alone in the room. He knew the nurse had other patients, but one of his friends was always there when he woke up. Again his eyes flicked around the room, coming to rest on an image he was getting used to seeing. Seven figures, dressed in the garb of the Old West came towards him and he smiled. He knew in his heart they'd come to say goodbye and he waited for one of them to speak.

'You're gonna be just fine now, Son,'his ancestor told him and smiled as the others moved to surround him.

'Yeah, and yer gonna be just as much of a stud as ol' Chris here,'the ladies man laughed and leaned over the pale form. 'That Anne is one mighty fine...'

'Mr. Wilmington, mind your manners,'Standish said. 'Take care of yourself, Mr. Larabee.'

'The lord works in mysterious ways, Brother, and in this case he gave us a glimpse of what our future has brought and I am proud of each and every one of you,' the ex-preacher told him.

'Hey, Chris, keep after my great, great, grandson, he looks up to each of you,'Dunne said and felt Wilmington's hand ruffle his hair. 'Just stop Buck from doing that to him...it's embarrassing.'

Jackson came next and he smiled at the blond. 'Chris, listen to the doctors and make sure you don't overdo it or I'll give my great, great grandson a real good recipe for...'

"Horse Piss," Chris chuckled.

Tanner's ancestor was last to step up to the bed and the others moved back, affording him the chance to speak with Chris Larabee himself. His shadowy arm snaked out and clasped Larabee's in the unique forearm handclasp.

Chris found it strange to be sharing something with someone other than his own Vin Tanner, but this felt right, in spite of the fact that he couldn't feel the other man's hand.

'Yer as strong as yer ancestor, Chris. Yer gonna be jest fine and ya'll always be a Larabee...that name means somethin', Chris, and I'm proud ta have been a friend ta yer kin.'

"Thanks, Vin," Larabee said as tears came to his eyes. "My Vin has a proud name too even if we have to remind him of it sometimes...hell we have to remind all of us, whether your name is Tanner, Sanchez, Wilmington, Dunne, Jackson, Standish..."

'Or Larabee,' six of the men said at once and the two Chris' smiled.

'Chris,' Tanner said and waited for the green eyes to turn his way again. 'If you need us, we'll be in here,' he promised and pointed to Larabee's heart as the seven spectres faded.

"Thanks, Boys," the blond said as they disappeared.

Chris lay back against the pillows, thinking about how times had changed since the seven had been protecting the town of Four Corners. He'd always had a fascination with the Old West, ever since hearing the tales of his heroic ancestor. He smiled as he realized that since the first Larabee became a lawman back in the 1800s it had become a tradition in his family. Something told him his friends would find the same thing in their backgrounds if given the chance to explore the past. Destiny was the catalyst that brought them all together so long ago, but friendship seemed to be keeping them together down through the generations.

His eyes drifted closed and he was drifting towards sleep when something woke him. He opened his eyes and smiled at the woman who entered. He was tired, but he appreciated the way she looked in the knee length black skirt and white crew neck shirt. Her auburn hair hung over her shoulders, darker highlights shining in the bright lights.

"Hi, Anne."

"Hi, Chris," Sheridan greeted as she took a step towards his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, well not quite okay, but I'm getting there." Chris smiled in spite of the exhaustion and pain ripping threw his body. He wanted to stay awake and talk to the woman who'd caught his attention, but felt the draw of sleep. He yawned as she sat on the edge of the bed, smiling sheepishly as she ran her fingers threw his blond hair.

"I'm glad, Chris," the nurse said softly as she stared into his tired eyes. Again she was caught by the wondrous depths she saw in them. This man was special and she wanted to be with him, but she would not force anything on him. She would wait and see how far he wanted it to go.

Chris lifted his left hand and touched the silky strands of her hair, letting them slide through his fingers as he studied the serious face above him.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Nothing..."

"Anne..."

"I was just worried about you. When Buck told me about the new toxin and that you'd been put back in ICU again it ter...worried me."

He smiled at her and reached for her hand, holding it against his cheek.

"You were worried about me?"

"Well you are a patient here," she said, trying to lighten the mood before things got too serious.

"Oh? I...thought..."

She placed a finger against his lips and spoke softly. "Not here...not now, Chris. We'll talk about other things when you're not under the influence of pain killers and other medications."

Larabee yawned tiredly and knew she was right. He didn't want to push things until he was sure what they felt was real, and not something else. He wanted things to be right, and he would wait to find out if this was. 'Lord knows I'm gonna be here long enough to find out,'he thought as his eyes grew heavy.

"I'm going to let you sleep now, but..."

"You'll come back?" Larabee asked, not caring how hopeful his voice sounded.

"Of course I will, Chris, but you need to sleep."

"Am kinda tired...wonder where the guys are."

"They said something about eating and then coming back here," she told him, knowing if she told him their plans, he wouldn't lie still for them.

"Oh, okay...they all need to...rest..."

"They will, Chris, as soon as this is all over," she whispered, knowing he'd finally surrendered to sleep. She bent down and kissed his forehead before checking the readout on the monitors. She frowned when she noted the heartbeat was still slightly irregular, but things were starting to improve. 'How could you Patrice?' she thought as she left the room, nodding to the police guard standing outside the door.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra lay back against the pillows, the blankets pulled up around him, hiding his face from anyone who entered the room. An IV line was taped to his arm and would fool whoever happened to glance towards the bed. He knew the police were watching for anything unusual, and that Buck, Nathan, and JD were also waiting to catch Patrice Milliard in the act.

Ezra smiled as he thought of the argument they'd had with Vin Tanner. The sharpshooter wanted to be in on the action, but lost the argument to Nathan Jackson. The medic insisted the younger man needed to stay with Chris in case the 'Pariah', as they called her now, found out about the ruse. Vin was now safe in Chris' room and Anne, who was familiar with Milliard was watching from inside the bathroom. She would be able to warn them if the 'Pariah' showed up.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Patrice watched the room from several vantage points. She'd seen Larabee's friends come and go and each time her heart skipped a beat when one of them was replaced by another. She'd been watching for nearly ten minutes now. The last one to leave had been a man with a moustache and no one had taken his place. She wondered if Ezra bought her story about her friend's death and her not being able to meet him at four. 'Maybe I can convince him to see me again once this is all over,'she thought, but pushed it aside as she realized she needed to hurry if she was going to get her chance at the injured man in 324. He was alone, but for how long? The time had come to act, and she knew she was ready.

She looked down at herself and smiled. No one would recognize her the way she looked, not even those who knew her well. She'd cut her hair, a fake moustache now adorned her upper lip, wire rimmed glasses covered her eyes, and she wore pants and shirt belonging to one of the male cleaners who'd recently gone on vacation. It was a simple matter of going through the uniform delivery until she found one that was close to her size. She'd briefly thought about leaving Larabee alone and letting Anne Sheridan take the fall for what she'd done, but she wanted to see Larabee dead. She pushed the cart towards the room and rung out the mop. She placed the yellow sign warning of a wet floor outside the door before pushing it open. She looked up and down the hallway, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. She glanced at the wall clock and saw the time was nearly eight thirty. She would have to hurry if she wanted to complete her task before the night shift nurses checked on their patients.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra heard the door open and kept still. He heard the soft brush of material on the floor and knew a cleaner had entered. His body tensed under the thin sheets at the thought that this could very well be Patrice Milliard.

+ + + + + + +

Anne looked through the crack in the door and relaxed as a male cleaner washed the floor around the door. The light from over the bed caught the cleaner's face and she frowned as she saw something familiar in the features, something cold and deadly.

+ + + + + + +

Patrice slowly moved the mop back and forth, slipping further into the room as she did so. The closer she got to the bed the faster her heart beat. Her right hand left the handle of the mop and reached into the breast pocket of her uniform. She eased the syringe from her pocket, knowing it contained a lethal dose of digitalis, and she quickly slipped the cap from the syringe.

+ + + + + + +

Ezra heard the cleaner moving around, but remained still, knowing if it was Patrice, they needed to catch her in the act.

+ + + + + + +

Anne saw the cleaner pull something from her pocket and recognized the instrument in her hand. She pulled the door open and raced out of her hiding place, just as the newcomer lifted the syringe over Standish' body.

"NO!" She screamed, knowing the others would hear her cry through the mike attached to her pocket.

Patrice turned towards the screaming woman, the syringe held tightly in her grasp. "You!" she hissed, recognizing the nurse from the ICU. Seeing her chance of revenge slipping away, Patrice lifted the syringe and plunged it towards the nurse.

Ezra came upright on the bed and grabbed for the cleaner's hand, squeezing tightly until a scream of rage left the woman and the syringe dropped to the floor. Spinning across the floor until it came to rest against the opposite wall.

Anne saw the syringe fall and heard the door open. Without thinking she grabbed the cleaner by the shirt with her left hand, knowing it was Patrice Milliard. Her mind raced to the man in the room in ICU and what this bitch had done to him and his friend. She was not a violent woman, but something snapped and her right hand drew back. Her eyes locked with the cold pair before her as she let fly with her fist. The blow came up under the woman's chin and Anne released her grip on the woman. She smiled contentedly as Patrice Milliard flew over the bed and landed hard on the floor on the opposite side.

Two policemen rushed over and pulled the woman to her feet. One officer pulled her arms behind her back and placed cuffs on her wrists, while the other told her what her rights were.

Patrice blinked and moved her mouth as the throbbing pain hit her. She turned to see Ezra Standish standing with Anne Sheridan and anger glowed in her eyes.

"You set me up, you bastard!" She screamed and fought the arms that held her tight.

Ezra walked towards her and smiled, his eyes holding none of the warmth he'd earlier shown this woman.

"You don't fuck with my family!" he stated and turned his back on the raging ball of fire held tightly between the two officers. He smiled as he saw the shocked look on the face of his three friends, knowing the cause was his use of the four letter word.

"You need to have the contents of this analyzed," Anne said, kneeling on the floor and picking up the syringe. She handed it to one of the policeman and watched as he carefully recapped it.

"I'm betting it would have killed you if she'd managed to inject it into you," Jackson said.

"That's a bet even I won't touch, Nathan," Standish said as Patrice Milliard was led from the room.

Buck watched as Anne's face paled and he grabbed her as she swayed. He knew the woman was probably feeling the shock of what she'd done, and he smiled as he led her to a chair and eased her onto it.

"Thanks, Kid," he said when Dunne placed a warm cloth in his hand. He gently washed away the tears that now fell from the nurse's eyes and smiled at her.

"I hit her!" she exclaimed.

"That you did, Darlin', and I haven't seen a right uppercut like that since," he stopped and looked at the others. "Since, well, Hell, since Chris used it on Fowler!" he said.

"I...I can't believe I did that," she sobbed.

"Anne," Standish said as he knelt in front of her. "You can't blame yourself for what you did. That woman deserved what she got and a whole lot more."

"But..."

"No buts. Now wipe the guilt off your face and let's go tell Vin, Chris, and Josiah the news," Wilmington said and smiled as she nodded slightly.

"She can't hurt him anymore," she said, sniffing back the tears as she stood. 'Now, maybe you'll be able to heal, Chris,'she thought as they left the room. She knew they'd have to give their statements before they'd be able to leave the floor, but she looked forward to seeing the blond man in ICU. He was no longer her patient, and she couldn't fight her feelings anymore.

+ + + + + + +

The police had taken Patrice Milliard away and questioned every one involved in the 'sting' operation. The questioning took over two hours and finally all the statements were finished and four men and one woman sat in the lounge drinking coffee. Buck had gone up to let Vin know that everything went according to plan and Milliard was now in jail where she belonged. Chris remained asleep as the two men talked quietly.

Nathan visited with Josiah and explained everything to the older man. Sanchez was angered that he hadn't been able to help or been informed of the plans. A cold glare from Jackson was all that was needed to remind the older man that he was also a patient at the hospital. The heart monitor showed that Sanchez was doing well and was in no danger. The medic explained that he needed to go back to the lounge to give his statement. He assured the ex-preacher that Larabee was doing well before leaving his friend alone with his thoughts.

Part 49

Anne hurried towards Larabee's ICU room and was glad to see Jenny Tucker was on duty. The two nurses were friends since meeting three months ago at a seminar and she knew Jenny would understand her need to see Larabee. She'd already told her friend about her growing feelings for this man, and Jenny warned her to take things slow. She stepped through the door and smiled at Vin Tanner.

The tracker sensed this woman's feelings for his friend and he hoped things would work out for the two of them. He stood up and stretched his left arm over his head and smiled at the newcomer.

"Hi, Anne," he said softly.

"Hi, Vin. How is he?"

"He's been sleeping since before I got here. Guess everything's finally caught up to him."

Anne nodded and walked to the bed, placing her hands on the rail and staring at the pale face turned slightly towards her. She fought the urge to run her fingers through his hair, and brush her lips across his, to feel the beat of his heart in his chest as she ran her hands...

"Anne?" Tanner called, smiling at the softness in her eyes as she stared at Chris Larabee. "Anne?"

She shook her head and turned towards the man calling her name, and felt the heat rising in her cheeks. "Oh, sorry, Vin, I was..." She stopped as she saw the knowing smile on the longhaired man's face.

"It's okay, Anne," the sharpshooter whispered as he watched Larabee's eyes move under the closed lids.

"I just stopped by to make sure he was okay."

"He is, Anne, and I'm sure he'll appreciate your being here."

"Thanks, Vin, he's been through a lot...you both have. I hope you don't plan on staying with him all night!"

"You kidding? Nathan'll be here with a damned leash pretty soon. That man just doesn't let up."

"Perhaps it's a good thing he doesn't," Anne told him. "From what I've seen and heard you guys lead a dangerous life."

"It has it's ups and downs," the sharpshooter said simply, his eyes full of sadness. "Lately we've...he's had a few too many downs."

"Yes, you have. Does he know that Patrice has been arrested?"

"No, he hasn't been awake yet. Hate to be the one to tell him about it."

"Why? Won't he be glad she was caught?" the pretty nurse asked.

"Oh, he'll be happy she was caught, but he'll be angry about not being able to help and even angrier when he finds out what Ez and you did."

"We did what we had to do."

"I know that, you know that, and Chris knows that, but it won't make a damn bit of difference. You put your life on the line for Chris and he'll be beholdin' to you for that, but he'll be angry with himself that he was the cause of putting you in danger..."

"But I wasn't in danger!"

"You don't call a syringe full of digitalis dangerous?"

"Well, she didn't get a chance to use it. I think we'd better be quiet or we'll wake him up."

Tanner leaned closer to her and smiled. "So you're feeling a little nervous about being the one to tell him as well," he said with a grin.

"I guess since you put it that way," she said. "Tell Chris I'll be back to see him tomorrow."

"I will, Anne, and thanks for caring." He watched the nurse touch her fingertips lightly against Larabee's cheek before leaving. 'Hell,Chris, you could do a hell of a lot worse,' he thought as he settled back in the chair.

+ + + + + + +

Chris opened his eyes and shifted slightly on the bed. He was tired of all the wires and other attachments leading to and from his body. He frowned as he realized the Foley catheter was back in place and he watched as a nurse emptied the collection container. The door to his room was closed as were the drapes, and he wondered what he'd missed while he'd been sleeping. The clock on the wall told him he'd slept through dinner and well into the night.

Jenny noticed the green eyes were open, and her patient was frowning. She knew his friends were out in the hallway, just waiting for her to finish the more intimate duties he wasn't able to do himself. She picked up a cloth and gently washed the sleep from his eyes. Next she picked up the glass and poured water into it before passing it to him. She waited for him to drink his fill before taking it back and placing it on the table once more.

"Thanks," Larabee said softly.

"You're welcome, Chris. How are you feeling?" Jenny checked the flow of the IV and the Lidocaine drip, making sure everything was running properly.

"I'm okay," he answered, frowning again as he remembered Anne's words just before he'd dropped off to sleep. 'They will, Chris, as soon as this is all over.'

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured the older woman. "Where is everyone?"

"Two of your friends are right outside the door. Do you feel up to seeing them?"

"Yeah..." the blond said and pressed the button that would raise his head a little more.

Jenny finished covering him to the waist and turned to the door. She opened it and gestured to the two men standing there. She waited for them to step inside before turning back to her patient.

"Chris, if there's anything you need just press the button. I'm going on break, but Natasha is covering for me."

"Thanks, Jenny, I will," Larabee assured her and studied the faces of the two men entering his room.

The first red flag went up when, Ezra Standish, a man who prided himself on his poker face, stood to the side and wouldn't quite meet Chris' eyes. The second one went up when Buck Wilmington strode to the bed, a cheerful smile on his face, appearing for all the world like nothing was wrong. Two red flags added up to a whole slew of problems to Chris and he waited patiently for one of his men to explain what was going on.

"Hey, Stud, must say you're looking a damn sight better than you were earlier."

"Yes, Mr. Larabee, you do seem to have a little more color..."

"Hold it right there!" Larabee hissed.

"What's wrong Chris?" Wilmington asked. "Are you in pain? I know they're giving you medica..."

"What's going on?" Larabee interrupted.

"What makes you think something is going on?" Standish asked.

"Buck's too cheerful and you can't look me in the eye."

"Of course I can, Mr. Larabee," Standish said and lifted hazel eyes to meet sea green ones.

"Hell, I'm always cheerful, Stud..."

"I repeat...what's going on?"

"Chris," Wilmington started, but knew Larabee could see right through him. "We found out who was doing this to you."

Larabee closed his eyes, snatches of the conversation he had with Buck earlier in the day coming back to him. He opened them again and met the concerned blue eyes of the ladies man.

"The Pariah?" he asked simply.

"Yeah," the scoundrel answered.

"Is there any evidence?" he asked, watching the two men look at each other and again not meet his eyes. "What the hell's going on?"

"Mr. Larabee, you need to calm down," Standish warned as the monitors over the patient's bed began to beep loudly.

"Calm down? I don't think so. You two are kee...ping..."

"Hang on, Chris," Wilmington warned as he too looked at the monitors. "We'll tell you everything, but it's a long story."

"What's going on in here?" Natasha asked as she hurried into the room. She began checking Larabee's vitals and glared at the two men beside the bed.

Ezra tried to explain. "We were just..."

"Going to tell me what the hell is going on!" Larabee snapped, pushing the nurse's hands away as he glared at his two friends.

"Mr. Larabee," the nurse tried, but a glare was swiftly turned in her direction. "That doesn't intimidate me in the least," Natasha told him as she continued to check the monitors and IV lines.

"Dammit, just leave me the hell alone. I'm sick and tired of people..."

"Chris, calm down!" Wilmington warned as his friend's breathing grew labored.

"I'll calm down when you tell m...ne what you guys...h... have d...done..." He tried to control his breathing, but the familiar tightness around his chest warned him he'd overdone it. He saw the nurse hurry to ready the mask, but his eyes caught and held those of Buck Wilmington.

"T...tell...m...me!" he ordered impatiently.

"We set up a little sting operation," the ladies man explained as the nurse quickly replaced the nasal canulas with the full face mask. "Now if you'll calm down we'll tell you about it, otherwise this pretty young lady is going to kick us out and you'll just have to wait until tomorrow..."

"B....Buck!" The injured man stammered as the word was muffled by the oxygen mask.

"Mr. Larabee, I will make them leave," Natasha warned and received a second glare.

"You wouldn't..."

She folded her arms across her chest, glared back at the stubborn patient and smiled.

"Try me!"

"Shit!"

"She's got your number, Stud..."

"Don't s...stud me, Buck. What the h...hell d...did...y...you guys...do?"

Natasha watched the monitors, waiting to see if Larabee would calm down, but it didn't seem to be going that way. She also realized that kicking his friends out before he got the information he wanted would only make matters worse. She stood by, hoping she wouldn't have to intervene and listened as the two men explained to the injured man just how they'd caught Patrice Milliard. She lost track of time as their story unfolded and looked up as Larabee's regular nurse returned. She wanted to stick around to hear the rest, but knew she had her own patients to check on.

"So Ezra pretended to be you in the bed and Anne..."

"Anne! W...what the hell d...does she h...have to do w...with this?"

"Ah, hell, Chris, it was her idea..."

"Buck, I don't cc...care whose i...idea it w...was...she sh...shouldn't have b...been in...volved," Larabee insisted.

"Mr. Larabee, Anne Sheridan can be a very formidable woman when she wants to be..."

Larabee turned an icy glare at the gambler.

"I don't g...give a d...damn how..."

"Chris," Jenny said and waited for the blond to look her way.

"Believe me if Anne insisted on being part of the 'sting' there was no way anyone could have stopped her," the nurse explained.

"Damn, Chris, she's a real hell cat and has an uppercut that would make yours look like a love tap," Wilmington said and the look on Larabee's face told him he'd said too much. "I...I mean..."

"Take your foot out of your rather large orifice, Mr. Wilmington," Standish said.

"What did she do?" Jenny asked with a grin.

"She delivered a devastating uppercut to Miss Milliard's chin and deposited said pariah on her derriere," Standish explained and smiled as the blond's eyes twinkled. "Mr. Larabee, if I might be so bold," he said and leaned close to his friend's ear. "Don't make her angry."

Chris wanted to hear more, but the events of the last few days weighed heavily on his healing body and he closed his eyes. He tried to speak, but was soon drifting on a soft cloud, where nothing hurt, and a pair of soft brown eyes looked at him from a wondrously beautiful face.

"That was close," the ladies man said, sitting in the chair by the bed.

"I thought he was going to throttle you, Buck," Standish said and watched the nurse straighten the blankets over the now sleeping patient.

Jenny smiled with pride at the thought of the heroic young nurse who'd helped take down Patrice Milliard. She hoped Anne Sheridan and Chris Larabee would get the chance to see if anything would develop between them. She took one last look at the monitors and left her patient in the hands of his friends, knowing he'd get the best possible care.

"Well, Buck, if you're staying here I shall see how our prophetic comrade is doing," Standish said.

"Alright, Ez," Wilmington agreed and settled down to watch over his long time friend.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah sat in the chair by the window, a spot he'd been in since the others left. Sleep had been impossible for him as he thought about the events of the last few weeks. Strange things began happening as soon as Chris Larabee mentioned exploring the ghost towns in New Mexico. From the beginning they'd all felt something beyond the norm and not one of them had questioned the arrival of their ancestors, or why they'd chosen this particular time to show up. Josiah knew why they'd come forward now, but at the time he hadn't, yet the faith sustained his belief in what was happening. The paranormal was something he delved into during his missionary days in third world countries, but he hadn't thought much about it since.

Robert Maguire was a man destined to meet up with not only Chris, but the seven of them. The two worlds somehow crossed paths and Larabee had become a victim of not one, but two twisted minds, bent on his death by torture. He remembered the marks on Chris' body when they'd first found him, the pain evident on the face, and yet, Chris had a confidence about him that shone through his eyes. Josiah remembered how Chris and Vin held the gun, then their ancestors closed rank until the seven were fourteen and dealt with the madman, both past and present.

The ex-preacher rubbed his eyes and looked out over the empty parking lot. His stomach had finally calmed down and his heart rate was back to normal in spite of the toxin from the lily of the valley. His friend had not been so lucky. Chris ingested far more of the water than he had, and in Larabee's condition the toxin quickly worked to make his life a misery once more. The blond was back in ICU, not because of Maguire, but because a woman blamed him for her own shortcomings. Patrice Milliard was in jail now, awaiting arraignment on charges of attempted murder and Josiah hoped she'd be spending a long time in jail. He also knew that would probably be a long shot as the prison system and courts were so backed up that it could take months, maybe years for her to come to trial. Again he rubbed his eyes, realizing his body knew what his mind wanted to fight. He looked up as the door was softly opened and smiled as the gambler stuck his head through the door.

"Good morning, Ez," Sanchez said softly.

Standish turned towards the voice and smiled as he let the door close behind him. "Well, Mr. Sanchez, I must say it's good to see you're feeling better, but shouldn't you be taking advantage of the bed?"

"Had a lot on my mind, Son," the ex-preacher muttered.

"I believe we are all suffering from that malady," the gambler said as he joined the other man by the window.

"How is Chris doing?"

"He's still the same, but he was a little, shall we say vocal with Buck and I."

Sanchez smiled. "Did you two tell him about the sting operation and Anne's involvement?"

"We didn't have a choice in the matter. You know how Chris feels about not being in the middle of things, but he was worse knowing his lady friend was involved."

"I bet he was," the ex-preacher could easily picture the blond's face when he was told about the plan to catch Patrice Milliard in the act.

"Well, we both know Mr. Larabee can make a cyclone seem tame when angered..." he stopped as he watched the older man yawn. "I do believe it is time for you to get into bed, Mr. Sanchez. We can talk about all this tomorrow when you've had some sleep."

"Guess you're right, Ez, that bed looks mighty inviting right now."

The young gambler helped the older man stand up, careful of the leads still attached to his body. He knew they were still monitoring his heart, but it would all be taken away in the morning as long as Sanchez continued to show improvements. He released his hold on the ex-preacher's arm, but walked beside the older man, lightning sharp reflexes ready if he was needed.

Josiah felt the younger man beside him as he eased down on the bed, lifted his legs, and lay back against the pillow. He shook his head and sighed as Standish pulled the blankets over him and sat in the chair next to the bed.

"You should go back to the hotel and get some sleep, Son," Sanchez said, knowing it was a lost cause.

"I assure you I am perfectly fine," Standish said. He listened as the older man's breathing seemed to even out, before settling back against the chair. His head snapped towards the bed as the ex-preacher spoke softly.

"You know, Ezra, your mother would be proud of you."

"My mother is only proud if it involves a deck of cards and someone else's money," Standish said, memories of his mother's disappointment running through his mind.

"She told me once that she was very proud of you and your accomplishments, but didn't know how to tell you."

"She and I have always had a strange relationship. More like teacher-student than mother-son, Josiah. I remember bringing home a picture I drew of her and I. She looked at it as if it was something beneath her, something hideous and vile and she tore it up. She said I had no talent for drawing and that I needed to concentrate on where my God given talents were most apparent and likely to make me rich. I think Mother gave me a deck of cards before I could hold a spoon," Standish muttered, his voice laced with pain at the thought of the woman who raised him.

"Maude didn't seem able to show love in normal ways, Ezra, but I believe she really does love you."

Ezra nodded slowly and met the blue eyes of the older man, gratitude shining in his gaze. "I have no doubt that she does...lo...love me, Josiah, I just wish she could be proud of me for who I am sometimes, not who she wants me to be."

"Some people can't see the treasure set before them, Son." Sanchez said simply, his eyes closing as a small smile formed on the gambler's tired face.

"Thank you, Josiah," Standish said simply as he stood up and walked to the window, knowing these men truly believed in him and that he would not run out on them. 'You can count on me!' he thought as silent tears ran down his cheeks.

Josiah watched the young man through slitted eyes. He knew Ezra's childhood was not a normal one and that he'd hardly known his mother until after he'd joined Larabee's team at The Firm. As a member of the team he'd found out what it meant to have family who cared for you and this seemed to make Maude see the true worth of her son. She returned several times and tried to get him to tour the world with her, but Ezra Standish was a changed man. He still loved gambling, and a good con, but it was not his focal point in life anymore.

Josiah smiled as he remembered the argument between Chris and Maude over her blackmailing her son into joining her. Chris sat back through the whole episode until Maude started in with guilt tactics, telling Ezra she needed him to be with her. Larabee stood up and went face to face with the woman, telling her if Ezra was so important to her then she would let him choose where he wanted to be and who he wanted to be with. The scene played out in his tired mind and he smiled in spite of his own exhaustion.

Part 50

Maude glared at him as she hissed.

"Isn't it obvious the dear boy wants to be with his mother?"

Chris simply glared right back at her and snapped.

"In case you haven't noticed the dear boy is a man and why don't we let the man make up his own mind?"

Ezra looked gratefully at Larabee and turned to his mother before speaking loud and clear.

"Mother, I love you dearly and would love to travel the world with you..."

"See, Mr. Larabee..."

"Let him finish!" Chris snapped.

"But I have other obligations that will prevent me from doing so for at least another...

"Fifty or sixty years," Larabee finished with a grin.

"Indubitably!" Standish exclaimed, a smile of satisfaction on his face.

"You belong with us, Ezra," Sanchez mumbled as he drifted off to sleep, knowing the younger man was happy with the choice he'd made.

"Chris?"

Larabee forced heavy lids open and looked at the doctor standing beside his bed. He hadn't slept well, but it wasn't because of nightmares of Maguire or Milliard, it was more to do with monitoring equipment and wires attached to his body. He knew he was frustrated, exhausted, both physically and mentally, yet he was trying his best to keep his explosive temper under control. He forced a smile to his face and looked at the man who help get him this far.

"Hi, Doc, when can I get out of here?"

Barrett smiled at the still pale man, knowing it would be another day or two before he was out of ICU and a couple of weeks before he was sent home. Then he'd be facing weeks, possibly months of physiotherapy on his hip.

"Chris, you won't be out of here until those monitors tell us everything is back to normal. Right now we need to make sure..."

"Dammit, Doc, I'm tired of all this!" he said, indicating the jumble of equipment.

Barrett pulled the chair towards the bed and sat down. He knew how Larabee felt, but right now they had no choice and neither did he. He knew the temper would get worse and was glad Dr. Hastings was scheduled to see the patient later in the day.

"Chris, what's really bothering you?" he asked, knowing the blond was still in pain and the injuries were a constant reminder of the torture he'd gone through.

Larabee turned away and shut his eyes against the onslaught of emotions running through his mind.

"I j...just...I..."

"Chris, remember who you're talking to. I've been where you are."

Larabee nodded and felt a lump forming in his throat as he looked into the sad eyes of a fellow victim.

"Does it ever go away?"

"Not totally. It'll always be a part of who you are, but a man has to choose if he wants it to eat away at him, or make it into something he can use to make him stronger."

"You seem to have used it to your advantage," Larabee said.

"What happened to me is in the past..."

"Not according to your eyes," the blond said.

Barrett nodded and gazed into the green pools of liquid emotions. "Chris, I said it happened in the past, but it's always in my mind, not at the front, not always where I can see it, but it's there. Some days I just want to scream and kick at the world and ask God-why me? What the hell did I do to deserve this?" the doctor hissed as he wrung his hands in his lap.

"Did you ever come up with an answer?"

"Yeah...yeah I did."

"What was it?" the injured man asked hopefully, wanting an answer to the questions that still troubled him.

"That it wasn't anything I did. That it wouldn't have mattered to the sick b...bastard whether I was a perfect angel or a real son of a bitch who didn't give a damn who I hurt. See these men look for a victim they can hurt. It doesn't matter to them who they are as long as they have control. That's what it's all about! The bastard thinks he has control over his victim through the torture and pain he inflicts, but you know what?"

"What?"

"He only has control if we give it over to him. Did you give him control?"

"N...no...I d...don't think so."

"Then he has nothing to hold over you. You've proven that you were stronger than he was by keeping control of who you are and not becoming what he wanted."

"G...guess we b...both d...did th...that, Doc," Larabee wheezed.

Barrett knew the younger man was still having problems with his lungs and even with therapy, he needed to build that strength back up. He turned to the nurse who remained in the room, but was silent through the whole exchange. At a signal she started setting up a mask for her patient and soon had it placed over his mouth and nose as painful wheezing came from deep in his throat.

Barrett patted his left shoulder and stood up. "Chris, let that take effect and I'll finish my examination when it's done."

Larabee's eyes were closed, but he opened them at the touch. "O...kay...thanks, Doc...for everything," he mumbled tiredly, letting his eyes slide closed once more.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah was more than grateful to have gotten rid of the IV and monitoring equipment. Although still a little weak, his recovery was happening faster than expected and he would be discharged from the hospital the next morning. He walked slowly towards Larabee's room, knowing the younger man must be getting frustrated with the constant care and attention. The man hated being confined, let alone confined and under watch. He stood in the door for a few minutes, watching as the nurse checked the monitoring equipment and IV lines.

To most people, Chris Larabee looked as if he was sleeping, but to the older man, the tension and anger was evident on the handsome face. He walked into the room and shook his head as the nurse made to wake her patient. He was surprised to see the blond alone in the room, and realized he'd probably told the others he was fine and it would be okay for them to leave him alone. He sat heavily in the chair and watched the nurse leave. He took a deep breath and waited for Larabee to acknowledge his presence.

Chris was aware of the newcomer the minute he stood in the doorway, but didn't feel like talking. He'd been thinking about his conversation with Derrick Barrett. The man said some things that struck close to home, and Chris wondered if he'd ever be able to put everything in the same kind of perspective the doctor had. He prayed he could, because if he didn't, his life would change drastically, and he wasn't sure he liked what those changes would bring. He sighed heavily and opened his eyes, turning towards the man seated beside the bed.

"Sounds like you've taken the weight of the world on your shoulders again, Brother," the ex-preacher observed.

Larabee felt tears forming in his eyes as he read the sympathy on his friend's face. This man may not be able to read him as well as Vin Tanner did, but he was always willing to listen and pass on a piece of advice that was worth its wait in gold.

"I'm just tired, Josiah...."

"And feeling as if you'll never be free of all this," Sanchez finished, gesturing towards the beeping monitors.

"Y...yeah. I know it's self pity..."

"Well, Chris, I can't blame you if you do feel a bit of self pity. Lord knows you've been put through hell the past few weeks."

Larabee lifted troubled eyes and met the blue ones before him. "Vin was hurt pretty bad too, Josiah, but he's not sitting back pitying himself...and neither are you."

"Me?" the older man said softly. "I drank a little water that didn't agree with me. Basically it felt like the stomach flu, but I'm fine now. What's going on with you probably feels like it's been happening forever and will never end. Yes, Vin was hurt and left for dead, but again he was not forced to endure what you were and he wasn't alone..."

"I...wasn't alone either...They were there."

"Yes they were and that was a very special gift, but they weren't flesh and blood. They weren't your friends... the ones who you could reach out and touch and know you weren't alone. The ones who knew what your world was like. I am very happy we were all given the chance to see part of our history, but those men were part of who we were, not who we are. Oh, don't get me wrong, Chris, they were an important part of the last few weeks and without their help I think we would have lost you. We had no idea where to start looking, but they came through when we needed them too."

"Why, Josiah? Why did they do that now? Why would they show up at that particular time?"

"I have a theory about that...want to hear it?"

Larabee nodded and rubbed his fingers across his temples, fighting back the tears he felt so close to the surface. He didn't want to show that part of himself, not here, not now, not when anyone could walk in on them.

"Well, I think it had to do with Robert Maguire and that journal of his ancestor. I bet if we'd taken the time to read it, we would have found out your great, great grandfather escaped Robert Maguire's clutches on the same date you did. Maguire was right about destiny, but he was wrong about the outcome. It was never destined for you or your great, great grandfather to die on that date...but it was destined for both of you to rid the world of an animal...one whose lineage is now over. Don't ask me how I know that, because I would have to say I don't know, but Maguire will never harm any of us or our descendants again. The man is dead and suffering in hell for all eternity. He will never be able to hurt anyone we care about again! Others will try and even succeed, but we will always grow stronger from the experience because we are and always will be seven!"

Larabee saw the light in the man's eyes and knew what he said was true. There was no doubt in his mind about destiny and the friendship of the six men he called friends. That they would live on for generations to come was a certainty for him now. Sanchez was right in everything he said and Chris smiled weakly at him.

Neither man noticed the five men standing just outside the door. They arrived shortly after Josiah started talking about destiny and each man understood the truth in those words. They really were destined to become The Magnificent Seven and would continue to work on the side of the law for generations to come.

Chris glanced towards the door and smiled as the five came into the room. His family was whole again, and soon he would be as well. One look told him they heard Josiah's words and the proof of that promise was written on their faces. There'd be others who would hurt them, but as long as they were together they could defeat anyone or anything. He felt a smile forming on his face, and for the first time in a long time there was a lightness surrounding his mind. They were here and they were seven, nothing could deplete their number as long as they fought together.

"Hello, Boys," he said, a smile forming on his face even as tears leaked from his eyes.

"Mr. Larabee, I do hope they are treating you well here," Standish said softly.

"Hello, Chris," Jackson greeted as he closed the door.

"How's it going, Stud?" Wilmington asked.

"Hey, Chris, I got a new joke...What?" Dunne asked as groans sounded around him.

"Never mind, Kid. In your case laughter is not the best medicine," Tanner said. Blue eyes met green and the silent greeting was quickly exchanged.

"Yeah, JD, we want laughs not groans," the ladies man observed.

The young Bostonian frowned as he looked at the men in the room, coming to rest on the gambler.

"Hey, gimme a chance...I've been working on my repa...repa...repa... whatever...I've been working on it."

"JD, Chris and Josiah are already in the hospital, but the rest of us...."

"I'm not that bad, Buck!"

"Just ignore Buck, Kid, that's what I always do," Larabee said, happy to have his friends in the room with him, in spite of it being a little overcrowded.

Standish wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulders and smiled as he said. "Mr. Dunne, we need to keep the noise level to a minimum before we are discovered. Therefore any jokes you've added to your repertoire need to be saved until we can let loose with our..."

"Groans!" Wilmington finished.

"Very funny, Buck," Dunne hissed.

"Ignore, him, JD, the rest of us do," Standish muttered softly.

"You wound me, Ezra, I thought you and me had an agreement...No insults for twenty four hours," the ladies man said with a smile.

"That was not an insult, it was an observation..."

"An insulting observation," the scoundrel tried to look miffed, but it wasn't working.

"Children, if you plan on staying I would advise you all to lower your voices and your insults!" Sanchez warned, the smile on his face belying the tone he used.

Chris was enjoying the company, it soothed away the worries and pain he'd been feeling. His eyes met those of his best friend and the two men tuned out the joking of their friends. Silent signals passed between them, one man letting the other know that he was getting better, the other coming to terms with the devastating torture inflicted on his friend.

Vin reached for the glass and filled it with ice water before placing a straw into it. He handed it to the older man and smiled as Larabee muttered 'thanks'.

Chris sipped the cold water, his eyes coming to rest on the woman walking towards his room. He smiled as he recognized the pretty auburn haired beauty.

Vin followed his gaze and smiled at the excitement in Larabee's dancing green eyes. He smiled and turned to the others.

"Guess we'd best get going if we're gonna make that movie," Tanner said.

"Hey, Vin, lots of time for..." JD looked in the direction Vin was pointing and smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, guess you're right," the kid said as Buck grinned at the woman.

"Hey, Stud, looks like you got company," the ladies man said and smiled at the slight color in Larabee's cheeks as Anne Sheridan entered the room.

"Gentlemen!"

"Hi Anne," Jackson greeted the nurse.

"Hi, Anne, we were just leaving," Wilmington said.

"We were?"

"Yeah, JD, we were," the ladies man said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Say goodbye, Kid!"

"Goodbye, Kid," Dunne repeated and got a slap on the back and major groans from his friends. "Bye, Chris, Anne. See you later, Josiah." He called over his shoulder as Wilmington pushed him from the room.

"See you tomorrow, Chris, and hopefully without all the attachments," Jackson said as he followed the two men out.

"Mr. Larabee, I second Mr. Jackson's sentiments," Standish told him as he hurried after the others.

"Chris," the sharpshooter said, clasping Larabee's left arm in his own.

"Thanks, Vin," Larabee smiled, knowing what they needed to say didn't need words. He released the younger man's grip and watched him walk out of the room.

"Well, Brother, I think I'll take my leave of you as well," Sanchez said and leaned over the bed to whisper in Larabee's ear. "After all three is still a crowd."

"Thanks, Josiah," Larabee said, fighting back the blush he felt rising to his cheeks.

"Do you need any help getting back to your room, Mr. Sanchez?" Anne asked.

"Are you kidding? If you look outside the room you'll see five men waiting to escort this ol..."

"Don't say it, Josiah, you're not old!" the nurse interrupted.

"Well, thank you, Anne, that's mighty kind of you to say. Chris, get some sleep and remember we are..."

"Seven," Larabee finished as the older man left. "Seven," he repeated with a smile.

"How are you feeling, Chris?" Anne asked, bending over to brush her lips against his, and feeling the apprehension growing once more.

Larabee's eyes shot open at the heat he felt from the slight touch and he waited until their eyes met.

"Feeling better, now that you're here...But..."

The nurse frowned as she caught the serious note in his voice. "But?"

"You took a hell of a chance, Anne. You could've been killed."

Anne shook her head as she took his left hand in her own. "No, Chris, I was safe, Ezra was the one taking the chance."

"Then what's this?" he asked as he ran his fingers over the bruised knuckles of her right hand.

Anne blushed as she met his steady gaze.

"I got angry and..."

"Slugged her!" Larabee said with a grin. "Buck says you've got one hell of an uppercut."

"I used to get lessons from my brothers when I was younger. I was teased a lot in school and they thought I should know how to defend myself. Thank God I never had to use it before."

"Remind me never to get you angry," Larabee said, smiling as he ran his left hand down her arm. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, seeing the tears forming in her eyes.

"Yes...I think so...its just that I'm not sure this is right."

"What?" he asked worriedly.

"Me...being here...with you."

"Anne, I know all about hospital policies, hell, I've been in them often enough I could probably quote hospital scripture. Look, you're not my nurse anymore and I've got all my faculties," he laughed as he looked at her. "Okay, all my usual faculties, which Nathan usually says are lacking, but that's because I keep trying to escape...Ah hell," he said as he realized he was drifting from the subject and he worried about the pain he saw on her face.

"Anne, I know what I'm doing. I'm not reaching out for you because of what you've done for me. I'm reaching out because I'd like to know if there's something growing between us and I'm hoping you feel the same way."

"Chris, I want to believe you, but can you say for certain that..."

"Right now I'm not certain of anything, Anne, but I want to give us a chance. Will you give us a chance?" He reached for her left hand with his own and waited for her to look at him. Before she could answer he pulled her down to him and their lips met. He held her close, the kiss, both gentle and forceful at the same time lasted longer than expected.

Anne moaned at the feelings running through her, feeling the heat move from her lips, through her stomach, and down into her lower body. Nothing had ever affected her like this, no man had ever made her feel this way. She felt him release her and opened her eyes, meeting his once more.

"Will you give us that chance?" Larabee repeated softly in her ear. "I can't promise you the road won't be rocky, but I can promise you it will be one hell of a ride."

"Chris, I..." She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands were in her lap, her fingers running around the ring finger of her left hand. Memories of another man ran through her mind and she felt the tears flow from her eyes. She stood up, bit her bottom lip and fighting back the tears she raced from the room. She heard him call to her, but didn't stop until she reached the stairwell. She sat on the top stair, crying as the pain returned to haunt her.

"God, I'm so sorry, Chris, I can't do this!" she cried.

Chris lay back against the pillow, desperately calling her name as she ran from the room. He tried to sit up and slide out of bed, but there was too much equipment to be unhooked. He closed his eyes, seeing again the tears in hers, feeling again the warmth that spread through him at her touch, and knew he was going to fight for what he was feeling. He sighed as his nurse came back into the room and checked the monitors and IVs. He wished he could go after her, but right now there was nothing he could do. Before he knew what was happening, sleep crept up on him and he gave into it.

Part 51

Vin sat in the chair next to Larabee's room, studying the sleeping face, and seeing something he didn't like. The others had left for the movie, but he declined the invitation to go with them, stating tiredness as his reason. Jackson's quick perusal of him set their minds at ease that it wasn't anything more serious. The tracker simply lay on his bed in the hotel room until the others were gone. As soon as he was sure they would not return he climbed off the bed and grabbed his Nike runners and eased them on with his left hand. He'd quickly left for the hospital, feeling the quicksilver resonance flowing, knowing something happened to his friend to cause the ripple to course through the bond they shared.

He'd been sitting in the chair for nearly an hour now, watching the different emotions flit across the pale face. He knew he'd been right to come down here as a grimace formed on Larabee's face and was quickly replaced by a look that bordered on loss. He needed to know what was going on, and how he could help his best friend.

Chris felt someone watching him and sighed as he felt the familiar tingling in his mind. He knew Vin Tanner was there and he slowly opened his eyes, knowing this was one man he couldn't hide from.

"Hey, Cowboy, wanna tell me what's going on?" Tanner asked worriedly.

"V...Vin," he coughed as he tried to speak through a dry throat. He felt a straw placed to his lips and gratefully drank the cold water. He finally lifted his eyes to meet the worried ones of the other man. Chris knew Tanner was ready and willing to listen to him, but was he willing to tell the younger man what was happening. To explain the feelings running through him, the warmth Anne Sheridan instilled in him. He reached for the button and pressed it, instantly raising his head so he could be level with his friend.

"Well?" Tanner asked, placing the glass back on the table.

"What makes you think anything's going on?"

"Chris, it's me, Vin Tanner, you know the guy whose head is sometimes tied to yours whether we want that to happen or not. I know something's wrong...and maybe I can help..."

"Nothing to help with, Vin.," Larabee said sadly.

"Bullshit, something's bothering you and I don't plan on letting you deal with it alone."

Larabee remained silent for a few minutes, before meeting the tracker's eyes once more.

"It's personal, Vin."

Tanner met the steady gaze and knew why Larabee looked so miserable.

"Anne?"

"Yeah...she's..." He swallowed before continuing. "She left."

"What do you mean she left?"

"Just that, she's gone...said she couldn't do this," Larabee laughed harshly. "Guess I can't really blame her."

"What the hell's that mean?" Tanner hissed.

"Well, hell, Vin, look at me? I'm a mess...toting a load of baggage right now and none of it's for first class. I'm a fucking mess...c...can't do fuck all for myself...."

"Bullshit! You can do anything..."

"Yeah right, Tanner! It took you guys and A...Anne to catch Milliard. You didn't need my help...Hell, I didn't even know what was go...going...o...on," He winced as his verbal tirade grew in volume, slamming pain through his skull as he moved on the bed.

"Chris, you're hurt...you couldn't..."

"Damn right I couldn't!" Larabee's head came off the pillow and he tried to sit up. "I couldn't stop the bitch from poisoning me and Josiah...I couldn't help you guys catch her...and I can't..." He grew silent, not wanting to talk about how he felt anymore.

"Chris..."

"Just leave it, Vin. It's okay..."

"No it's not, Larabee. I don't remember you being a quitter..."

"Not a quitter, Tanner, just facing facts. Anne's better off without the baggage that comes with knowing me!"

"That baggage is what makes you who you are, Chris."

"Yeah, well, maybe I can get rid of it..."

"Does that include us?" the tracker asked, worried about his friend's seeming lack of fight, something he was well known for.

"N...no...don't think so," Larabee said tiredly, his eyes misting over in sadness. "Not unless you boys want to get rid of me."

"Ain't gonna happen, Pard," Tanner said, looking up as Josiah Sanchez walked towards the room. "Looks like another one of your friends coming to see you. Hi, Josiah."

"Hello, Vin, thought you were going to the movies?"

"Was, but something more important came up."

"Chris, something wrong?" the ex-preacher asked as he pulled a second chair towards the bed and sat down.

"Wish you guys would stop asking me that," the blond said, but his eyes betrayed his words.

"Sorry, but that'll never happen. Now what's wrong?" Sanchez asked, knowing he'd probably interrupted a talk between the two men.

"I just...I don't know, Josiah. Maybe I'm just tired," Larabee answered, hoping to deflect the questions.

"I don't think so. Sounds to me like self pity and that just isn't the Chris Larabee we all know and love," the ex-preacher observed.

"Self pity, yeah it probably is, but right now I don't want to talk about it."

"Then I will," Tanner said. "Chris you're a good man, one I'm proud to call friend, but right now you're being a pain in the ass..."

"What the hell do you know, Tanner?" Larabee snarled. "You don't have any idea what I'm feeling..."

"Don't I?" the tracker asked softly. "Do you think you're the first man to have feelings for someone, but not be able to act on them?"

Larabee saw the sorrow in the deep blue eyes and knew the tracker had just revealed another small part of what made him who he was. He glanced from one set of blue orbs to the other and realized these two men understood him more than he'd ever know. He sucked air deeply into his lungs, ignoring the protest of sore ribs and healing wounds, and spoke softly.

"No, Vin, I don't...it's just...Well, I haven't felt like this since....since..."

"Sarah?" the ex-preacher supplied.

"Yeah...See Sarah was someone special...someone who saw past who I wanted to be to who I was. She loved me for me...not for any of the things I tried to be. Anne...well she's special too, and I'd like to know if there's anything between us worth building on. I don't want to move to quickly...I just." Larabee didn't speak for a few minutes, but when he did, his voice was laced with sadness. "It doesn't make any difference now...she said she couldn't do this and left."

"Are you just going to leave it at that?" Sanchez asked.

"What else is there to do? I'm stuck in here...can't chase her...wish the hell I could though," the blond said.

"Then why don't you let us be your legs, Chris?" Tanner asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I think what Vin is trying to tell you is that we can deliver any message you'd like to give to Anne Sheridan. You can either write it down or tell us what to say, and there's always chocolate or Roses."

"Don't mention flowers, Josiah," Larabee groaned.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," the older man said sheepishly. "So we have chocolates...anything else?"

"Wine?" Tanner asked.

"Hmm, maybe a good Sangria?" Sanchez asked.

"Sangria is good," the sharpshooter said. "Dinner?"

"Oh, there's an idea...maybe we could reserve a table at a fancy restaurant..."

"Excuse me...I am here..."

"Quiet, Larabee, we're makin' plans to woo a beautiful lady," the tracker said, before turning back to Sanchez. "Okay, so we reserve a table...Do we order the meal ahead of time...ya know Larabee has a love of ribs and he'd be eatin' and slurpin' his fingers. Gets kinda embarassin', 'specially if he tries to kiss her..."

"Vin!" Larabee hissed, laughing as the two men discussed making plans for a date between him and Anne.

"What?" Tanner asked, turning an impatient gaze at his friend.

"If I want a date with Anne I'll make one. I don't need your help."

"That's fine, Brother. Should I go find the lovely lady and bring her here?" Sanchez asked with a knowing smile.

"Not right now, Josiah. Wait until I get out of here."

"But..."

"Come on, Vin, give me a break," Larabee pleaded of the devilment he saw in the blue eyes.

"Josiah, what do you think?" Tanner asked.

"Hmm, well absence makes the heart grow fonder...so we let Anne think about what she's missing and then we set the trap for her. What do we use for bait?"

"Josiah!" Larabee warned.

"We're just looking at things from all angles," the ex-preacher explained, glad to see the sadness gone from Larabee's eyes.

"Hey, Josiah, Buck's the expert..."

"No!"

"What?" Tanner asked innocently.

"I'm warning you, Vin, don't go bringing Buck into this," Larabee hissed.

"Well, you need all the help you can get, Pard," the tracker drawled.

"Not Buck's kind of help," the blond said.

"Would you rather we brought in JD? Maybe he could woo her with the tale of the three legged dawg."

"Vin, even I wouldn't allow you to do that," Sanchez warned.

"Ah, hell, you guys are no fun," the tracker hissed and smiled at the laughter bubbling from his friend. The sound soothed his own ragged nerves and he soon joined in. Sanchez's laughter was soon drowning out theirs as the three men relaxed and let the events of the last few weeks slide from their shoulders.

Chris held his left hand tight against his chest as the laughter put pressure on his ribs. He coughed harshly, but tried to tell the other two he was fine. He frowned at the younger man as he hit the button and called for the nurse.

"Sh...shit!" he wheezed as tears ran from his eyes.

"Easy, Chris, help's on the way!" Sanchez assured him.

"D...don't need h...help...I'm o...kay." The harsh cough continued to rob him of air and he closed his eyes to concentrate on breathing.

"Chris."

Larabee recognized Barrett's voice, but didn't have the strength to acknowledge it. He could hear the others talking and soon felt his head lifted forward and the familiar mask put in place. He heard the doctor asking Tanner and Sanchez what happened to bring on the attack and he tried to explain.

"D...don't bl...ame them...g...good to la...augh," he said weakly and felt a stethoscope pressed to his chest. He forced heavy lids upwards and glared at the doctor.

"Said...I'm o...kay..." he hissed.

"No, you're not, but you will be if you relax and let the medication work the way it should," Barrett explained.

"Try...ing to..."

"I know you are, Chris," the doctor said and looked at the two men in the room. "He really needs to rest right now," he told them.

"Chris, we'll be back later, okay?" Tanner asked.

"O...kay, Vin...thanks...you and J'siah...good fr...friends...all of y...you...friends...tired...

now...go...gonna sleep for...week...Don't tell B...Buck a...bout Anne."

"We won't, Chris," Sanchez said softly. "Doc?"

"He should be fine, Josiah. In his case laughter was not the right medicine," the doctor said sternly.

"With Chris Larabee, laughter is sometimes the only medicine," the ex-preacher said as they listened to the heavy breathing from the patient.

"Well, he's sleeping now, so if you gentlemen would come back later," Barrett said, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep them away.

"Alright, Doc," Tanner said. 'Sleep easy, Chris, we got your back,'he thought as they left the blond in the care of his nurse. He knew Larabee would be okay, it was only a matter of time.

Part 52

Anne stood in the doorway, watching as Chris Larabee shifted on the bed. She knew how uncomfortable he must feel, especially after the last attack, but at least the mask had been removed and replaced with the nasal canulas. Jenny told her what happened and without thinking she rushed to the room, grateful when her friend drew the shades and closed the door for her. Jenny assured her he was fine, but she needed to see with her own eyes. She moved silently into the room and watched the sleeping man, her right hand once more fingering her left, touching the spot where a diamond ring once encircled it. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked at the pale man, wondering if she was giving up a chance to be happy again. A chance to know whether she really could love another man the way she had Richard Fischer. She sighed heavily as she turned to leave, but was stopped by a soft voice from the bed.

"Anne," Larabee said her name, not sure if he was dreaming, or if she was really there. Hoping for the latter he opened his eyes and watched the trembling woman.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Anne turned back to the bed, reaching for a tissue as she did so and wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I'm fine, Chris, just have something in my eye," she told him, but knew Larabee was not fooled by her assurance.

"Anne, can I talk to you?"

"Chris, I...I just don't know if that's a good idea right now," she said.

"I know I lead a dangerous life, and I know it's probably not something you want to get involved in..."

Her eyes grew bright as she realized he thought she blamed him for her not being able to pursue a relationship with him.

"No! Chris, it's not you!" she cried and reached for his hand. "It's me!"

"You?" he asked and waited for an explanation. Seconds ticked by before her shoulders heaved and soft cries escaped her throat.

"Yes, me! I'm sorry, Chris, I really didn't mean for this to go as far as it has and I'm sorry if I hurt you. It happened a few years ago and I haven't seen anyone since."

"You didn't hurt me, Anne, and I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but I'm always willing to listen."

Their eyes met and Chris knew she was going to tell him about her past. He felt his heart skip a beat and for an instant wanted to stop the outpouring he knew was about to come. He'd battled his own demons from the past and knew how dangerous they could be, how much they hurt to talk about. A picture of his dead wife flashed before his eyes and he knew Sarah would want him to go on with his life, knowing their love would always be a part of who he was.

Anne knew he was giving her a chance to compose herself and she smiled at him. She reached for the glass of water and waited for him to drink his fill before taking it back. She met the sea green eyes and knew she could bare her soul to this man and not have to worry about being hurt. Taking a deep breath, she eased down on the bed, running her hand through his hair and told him her story.

"Richard and I knew each other in med school. He was three years older than I was and was working his way through it. I thought he was the handsomest man in the world. Silky blond hair, blue grey eyes, the most beautiful smile in the world and yet..." She let her eyes close as she pictured the man she'd nearly married.

"He wasn't who I thought he was, Chris. I mean we dated for four years and everything was perfect. He took me places, he showed me things, but he never ever forced anything on me..." Tears streamed in a thin line from her eyes and she felt his hand on her cheek. "On the forth anniversary of the day we met, he took me on a cruise in the Bahamas and wined and dined me. At the captain's table he asked me to marry him and I said yes. God, Chris, I was the happiest woman on earth. There I was with the man I loved, an ocean liner, a calm sea, a million stars dancing in the sky and yet, something nagged at me. Something just didn't feel right. I thought it was me, but once that ring was on my finger he became possessive. Oh, not right away," she knew the tears were falling at an alarming rate, yet she didn't feel ashamed that this man saw them.

"What happened?" Larabee asked as she took a deep breath and once more met his gaze.

Her eyes were filled with sadness and pain, her voice sounded ragged as she talked past the tears.

"We were making plans for our wedding, but if there was anything I wanted he found something wrong with it. If I wanted a white dress...he'd say that was too passé. If I wanted champagne, he wanted wine. If I opted for a photographer he found something wrong with him." She stood up and paced the room as if it had suddenly shrunk in size. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she tried to find some warmth.

Chris continued to watch her, seeing a vulnerability he hadn't seen before. He waited for her to continue, not wanting to force her to face something that seemed so hard for her. Their eyes met again as she stopped at the foot of the bed.

"It kept getting worse, especially when it came time for me to meet his parents. I never understood why he hadn't introduced me to them before, but I was so excited when he finally brought it up. The night we were to go meet them and finalize the list of guests for our wedding, I couldn't do anything right. The dress I picked out showed too much cleavage, the shoes I wore did not match my purse, and the makeup was too heavy. I changed so many times, yet nothing I did met with his approval. I was a nervous wreck with him going through my closet, looking for something he could approve of. He told me I had to get rid of most of what was in there and I told him he did not own me..." She started laughing, an almost hysterical sound amongst the steady beeping of Larabee's heart monitor.

"What did he say?" Larabee asked, dreading the answer he saw in her eyes.

"He grabbed my wrists and twisted them until I was sure they would break and he stared at me. I can still hear his voice as he screamed 'Not yet, but I will as soon as that other ring is around your finger!' I shook my head at him, Chris, told him to go to hell and took the engagement ring off and...and threw it at him. I told him to get out of my life and that I never wanted to see him again."

"What did he do?"

"He stood there and laughed at me. The bastard thought it was a great big joke and started apologizing, but I wasn't having anything to do with it. I told him to get out and I held the door open for him." She stopped and met his eyes once more. "He tore it from my hands and slammed it shut, Chris...and...he...ah...he slapped me...drove me across the room, all the while he kept saying he owned me and that he needed to put me in my place! I didn't wake up 'til three days later in the ICU!" She cried, no more soft tears, wracking sobs that tore though her, bringing back every mark he left on her body and soul.

Chris pulled her down onto the bed, ignoring the pain that shot through his hip at the awkward movement. He held her head on his shoulder until the tears dried and the soft body remained still beside him. He had no idea how much time passed when she lifted her head and looked at him, her hand coming to rest against his cheek.

"I swore out a warrant for his arrest and he spent a few years in jail. The last I heard he was taking anger management classes and living with his parents. So, you see, it's not your baggage I'm worried about," she said softly.

"Anne, that's not your baggage, Honey, you showed how strong you are by not letting him beat you."

"But he did beat me...I...I..."

"No he didn't! Don't you see, Anne? You've gotten past all that and you did what you wanted to do. You became a nurse...a damn good one and you help people. Hell, you should see the baggage I carry," he muttered as he held her tight. He winced as pain shot through him as he tried to get comfortable.

"Chris?" She waited for him to look at her. "I want to hear what happened to you...about your past, but right now I think you need to get some rest."

"I'm okay, Anne."

"No, you're not, you're in pain and you need to let the medication help you. God, Chris, I'm sorry. I should never have come back!"

"Don't say that, Anne!" he hissed, holding tightly to her hand. "I'm not sure what's going on between us, but I want the chance to find out. Will you give me...give us...that chance?" he asked and stared into the swollen, red rimmed eyes.

Anne knew if she was ever going to get past her experience with Richard Fischer, she'd have to take a chance. She looked into the deep green pools and saw nothing but kindness and hope.

"Chris, I can't promise..."

"I'm not asking for a promise, Anne, I'm asking for a chance."

"I want to know too, Chris, but what if..."

"A friend once told me we can't live by what ifs," Larabee said tiredly. "No promises, no certainties, just possibilities...endless possibilities."

She wiped at her eyes once more, and finally met his gaze again.

"No promises, Chris, but I'd like to give us a try." She smiled at the relief in his eyes and knew her own must be filled with the same emotion. She didn't pull away from him as he reached for her and pulled her towards him. His left hand tangled in her hair and eased her down to him, until their lips met and sealed their destiny. They would live for today and save the uncertainties for tomorrow, or until they were ready to face them.

"Thanks for giving us this chance, Anne," Larabee whispered as she pulled away.

"I just hope you don't regret it, Chris," she smiled as she stroked his hair, watching the heavy lids slowly dip over the green eyes.

"S...so ti...red..."

"Go to sleep, I'll come back later."

"...o...kay..."

A heavy sigh left his slack lips as she watched him, gently brushing aside his hair and running her fingers along the gaunt cheek. She saw a flicker of a smile cross his face and returned one of her own. She waited to make sure he was sleeping before opening the shades and the door.

+ + + + + + +

Chris waited impatiently for the doctors to finish their examination of his body. Barrett stood on one side of the bed, Foster, the cardiologist on the other. The two physicians were making sure everything was okay, before giving the go ahead to move Chris out of ICU. So far they'd done blood work, an EKG, an ultrasound, and listened to his lungs. He was tired and irritable, yet he understood they were trying to make him comfortable.

"How does your stomach feel, Chris?" Barrett asked as Lee Carlyle joined them. The psychiatrist agreed to be there to help find out what was bothering the blond and affecting his appetite. Tests showed nothing was wrong with his stomach, but he was unable to keep things down.

Larabee knew the nurses recorded his lack of appetite on his chart, and he knew that was what the physician was asking about. He'd tried to eat, but it held little interest for him, especially when his stomach churned with each mouthful.

"It gets pretty rocky, Doc," he answered honestly.

"Does the Zofran help?" Barrett enquired.

"Sometimes, but not always," the blond explained. "But I don't think it's the meds, Doc..."

"What do you think it is, Chris?" Carlyle asked.

"I don't know for sure, Doc," Larabee answered softly.

"Is there pain when you eat?" Barrett asked.

"N...no...not really...I just can't seem to...I don't know."

"Chris, would it help if we changed your diet?" Foster asked, knowing they still had the injured man on clear fluids.

"Might, can't say I'm overly fond of Jell-O and broth."

"Alright, I'll make a note to have the cafeteria send up a light lunch. If that settles okay then we'll see about putting you on a regular diet. Right now you're below weight and we need to build that back up before we can really start working on your hip. Dr. Hastings has arranged for physio to come see you as soon as you're in a regular room again," Barrett explained.

"When will that be?" the patient asked.

"Well," Barrett smiled at the blond. "Everything looks good. Your heart rate is back to normal, the toxin is out of your system, now all we have to do is get you eating."

"You sound like Nathan," Larabee said, a wistful smile on his face as he thought of how many times the medic had told him to gain a little weight.

"Mr. Jackson sounds like he knows what you need," Hastings observed.

"Yeah, Doc, he does. One of these days we'll be able to tell him just how much we appreciate what he does for us." He looked back at Barrett, knowing he was the one who would say yes or no to his getting out of ICU. "Well?"

"Well, I don't see why you can't be moved to a regular room," Barrett said, pleased to see a real smile on Larabee's face.

"When?"

"Right after lunch," Barrett answered and held up his hands to stop the protest he knew was coming. "Hold on...it'll take that long to get rid of the foley and make sure there's a room available for you."

"Plus, I want to arrange to have a Holter monitor," Foster said.

"A what?"

"A Holter monitor. It'll record your heart rate for the next twenty four hours..."

"Why?" the blond asked.

"It's just a precaution, Chris," the cardiologist assured him. "I want to make sure there are no residual effects from the toxin. Right now your heart rate is fine, and I want to be certain it remains that way. Someone will be up in approximately an hour to set it up for you."

"Hell, Doc," Larabee hissed and shook his head. "Guess if it'll get me out of here then hook the damn thing up!"

"Alright, Chris, if there's nothing else I've got rounds to finish," Foster explained.

"I don't think there's anything else, Doc," the blond said and settled back against the pillows.

"Derrick, Lee, I'll see you both later."

"Thanks, Albert," Barrett said.

"Chris, I'll see you after you're settled in your new room," Carlyle said and followed Foster out the door.

Barrett looked at the man he had so much in common with, and was pleased to see some of the uncertainty gone from his eyes. He knew Larabee still had a long way to go, but there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. He also realized a lot of it had to do with Anne Sheridan. He didn't know the nurse well, but he admired her for getting past a trying time in her life. He didn't know the whole story, but he knew she'd been seriously hurt by someone she cared about. This made her sympathetic to her patients, yet there was something more to the way she behaved around Larabee. He wondered if some happiness would come of Larabee's experiences and he silently wished them both the best.

"Well, Chris, I guess I'll leave you to your nurse. I'll have her call and order you a light lunch and make sure you let her know whether there are any problems with it."

"I will, Doc," the blond assured him.

"Look, Chris, we really do need to get you eating otherwise we'll have to resort to..."

"The damned NG tube and Isosource," Larabee hissed distastefully.

"There really isn't a choice until we find out what's going on with you."

"Hate that shit, Doc, been on it a few times before. I really think it's the Jell-O and broth...stuff never agreed with me."

"I hope you're right, Chris," Barrett said. "We'll give it a couple of days and see how you're doing. Okay?"

"Okay," Larabee agreed, and met the physician's concerned gaze before he left the room. Chris lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes. He knew when the nurse came back into the room, but he didn't open his eyes. The frustration was back, and he hoped the others would stay away, because right now he wouldn't be good company for anyone.

Part 53

Vin stood outside the door as they moved Chris's bed into position beside the window. The others were in the cafeteria, giving the nurses a chance to settle the injured man into his new room. He waited as they checked the small monitor, placed it in the special pouch on the hospital gown, and made sure the leads were still attached to Larabee's chest. He'd been there when they' hooked it up and was relieved to hear it was only a precaution. The only tube that still led into Larabee's body was an IV in his left arm, the site had been changed just before the move to ensure there'd be no problems with that either. Chris had been grouchy most of the day, Especially when they'd given him the Zofran and placed the tray on his table. They managed to cajole him into eating the vegetable soup, crackers, and apple juice before giving into the blond's demands to be left alone.

He let the door close, affording Larabee privacy from the people in the hallway. If anyone understood how Chris was feeling it was Vin Tanner. He knew his best friend was probably feeling closed in...something the tracker could sympathize with. The hours he spent visiting with the blond were hard enough, and he longed to be home, racing across the ranch on Peso. That would not happen until Chris was released from the hospital and given the okay to travel home to Billings. He knew when the time came, Travis would send The Firm's private jet and Larabee would at least have a comfortable ride home. He remembered how comfortable the flight back from Guam had been after most of the team had been injured during a run in with a storm and modern day pirates. He leaned against the wall looking out the window next to Larabee's room and waited for the nurse to tell him he could go in.

Regina Caldwell had been a nurse at Washoe County Medical for three years and she'd had her share of stubborn patients. She read Larabee's chart, and familiarized herself with his treatments and problems he'd undergone since being admitted. She remembered shaking her head in sympathy after reading about the injuries and the subsequent poisoning and return trip to the ICU. The orderlies stayed long enough to help her settle the patient in the room, but now she was alone with him.

"Chris, my name is Regina and I'm going to be your nurse for today. I need to take your vitals and then you can rest," she said as she took his arm.

"Okay," Larabee said, his eyes not leaving the window on the left side of his bed. He was on the second floor in a private room at the end of the hallway. The window opened onto the flower garden he'd been in the day Patrice Milliard had made his life a living hell with her thirst for revenge. It was slightly open and he could hear the birds twittering in the trees, and smell the sweet scent of the flowers wafting in on the slight breeze.

Regina watched the face and smiled as she realized he looked like a kid who just found out Santa Clause brought him everything on his list. Larabee seemed delighted with the view and she smiled as she realized something so simple as a window could provide such pleasure. She finished taking the vital signs and patted his left shoulder.

"Chris."

Larabee tore his eyes away from the view and smiled sheepishly at being caught staring in awe out the window.

"Sorry," he apologized.

Her eyebrows rose and she smiled at him.

"For what? Enjoying the view?" Regina asked.

"It is beautiful," the blond said softly.

"Yes it is. Now would you like me to tell your friend he can come in?"

"Y...yeah," he winced as he rubbed his right shoulder.

"Chris, they've hooked the morphine pump up so you can regulate how much..."

"Yeah, I know," Larabee told her. "I'm okay right now."

"Okay, just make sure you don't wait too long. I'll send your friend right in."

"Thanks, Regina," the blond said and turned back to the window.

"Just buzz me if you need anything, Chris."

"I will," he said as she left him alone with his thoughts. Chris continued to gaze longingly out the window, he knew it wouldn't be long before he was able to go outside again, but it couldn't be too soon for him. He turned towards the door as it opened and Vin Tanner entered the room.

"Hey, Cowboy."

"Hey, Vin," he said softly, smiling as his friend walked to the window and leaned heavily against the wall. The two men lapsed into a comfortable silence, neither one needing words to convey what they were feeling.

'Ya look better, Chris.'

'So do you, Vin.'

The words were spoken by neither man, yet the silent message was clear. The time for healing had begun and it wouldn't be long until they were back home where they belonged.

The silence was broken as the door opened and the remaining members of their family entered. A slight smile told Vin that Chris was as pleased to see the guys as he was.

"Hey, Stud, now ya got your own room maybe we can get a couple of nurses to come entertain us," the ladies man winked as he bent close to Larabee's ear. "Maybe a real nice sponge bath is just what you need," he whispered.

"Buck, leave the man alone," Standish warned. "Can't you see he's already enamored of the lovely Miss, Sheridan?"

"She is a fine catch, Chris," Sanchez said, smiling at the blush on Larabee's pale face.

"Ah, Hell," Chris winced, knowing he'd be in for a ribbing from these guys now that they all knew he was harboring feelings for the auburn haired beauty.

"Don't mind them, Chris, they're jealous," Dunne said and smiled as Wilmington smacked him on the back. "See Buck's all talk, but he never gets any action!" He quickly moved out of the way as he heard the ladies man's expletive.

Chris laughed with the others as Buck chased the younger man around the room. His gaze came to rest on the soft brown eyes of the medic as the laughter in the room died down.

"How are you doing, Chris?" Jackson asked, knowing the blond was still having problems eating.

"I'm doing okay, Nathan," Larabee assured him.

"Have you been able to eat anything today?" the medic asked.

"Yeah, ate some..."

"Did it stay down?"

"Yeah, Nathan it did. The doc seems to think maybe the problem was with the type of food. You know me with broth and Jell-O," the blond explained with a grin.

"We all do," Wilmington said and his eyebrows rose. "Hey, Stud, maybe I can find a place that makes..."

"NO!" Larabee hissed.

"What? I haven't even said what I'm looking for!" the ladies man scoffed.

"Don't worry, Mr. Larabee, if he even attempts to bring any female pate I will supply you with a loaded weapon."

"Thanks, Ezra," Larabee grinned.

"Okay," the scoundrel said impishly. "No female pate but there's always..."

"No breastellos, Buck," Tanner warned, a fiery blush coming to his cheeks as he remembered the peach mounds topped with a cherry.

"Damn! You guys don't know how to have fun," Wilmington said with a smile.

Larabee felt great, in spite of the weariness seeping into his body. He let his eyes wonder over the men in the room. Each one so different, yet they'd come together again and again, not only in the present, but in the past, sealing a bond that would grow stronger over the years. He sank towards sleep listening to the teasing conversation between the six men.

By the time Chris woke up several hours later, the only one remaining in the room was Buck Wilmington. The ladies man stood at the window and Chris could see the worry on the man's face. He'd seen the look before, many times over their friendship, and hated being the cause of the pain on the handsome face. The ladies man tended to wear his heart on his sleeve where the pain was easily visible, but so often he kept it inside until it ate at him. Chris remembered the pain he'd caused his long time friend after Sarah and Adam's death. How he'd fought to shut everyone and everything that mattered to him out, but Buck wouldn't let him, wouldn't give up. It was Vin Tanner who finally got through the devastation and loss, but it was Buck's friendship and undying loyalty that stuck with him even now.

Buck turned when he felt Larabee's eyes on him and he smiled at the blond. The worry and fear of the last few weeks made it hard for any of them to sleep, but now the man seemed to finally be on the mend. As time went by a nurse came in and injected Zofran into the IV in Larabee's arm, explaining it was ordered by Barrett to try and calm the patient's rebellious stomach.

"Hey, Chris, did you sleep well?" he asked, remembering the pain that ran across the pale face even in sleep.

"Y...yeah," Larabee answered as he pressed the button to raise his head. He reached for the glass on the table and drank the ice-cold water, relishing the moisture as it worked its way down his throat. He knew he'd been dreaming, but the only thing he could remember was the unquenchable thirst that seemed to be lingering now that he was awake. He smiled thinly as Wilmington refilled the glass when he finished.

"Thanks, Buck."

"Anytime, Pard," the ladies man answered.

"Where is everyone?"

"Nathan figured you needed to sleep and ordered them all out."

"How long was I asleep?"

"About four hours. The nurse should be coming with your dinner in a couple of minutes."

"Great," Larabee winced as he shifted on the bed. "Jesus!"

"I wish I could help you, Chris," the ladies man said as he saw the pain etched on the handsome face.

"You are, Buck, by being here," the blond assured him, feeling the tiny box under his left hand. He didn't want to push the button, knowing his friend would witness his inability to handle pain.

"Chris, push the button, Pard,. It'll help you and that's what it's there for," Wilmington told him, and was relieved when he heard the pump deliver the meds.

The two men were silent for a little while until Larabee raised his head and smiled weakly.

"Can always count on you, Buck," the blond said softly.

"And you always will, Chris."

"I know," Larabee told him. "One hell of a family we've picked up!"

The ladies man smiled at the look on the blond's face.

"Yeah, it is, Chris. There's not a finer bunch I'd rather have."

Before they could say anything else, the door opened and a man came in carrying a dinner tray. He checked the name and verified he was in the correct room before placing it on the table, and hurrying out. With just a quick look the two men knew the serious conversation they'd been having was over. They said what needed to be said and it was time to move on.

"Are you ready to find out what they've sent you this time?" the scoundrel asked, lifting the lid and grimacing at what he saw. "Hmm, maybe not."

"What is it?" the blond asked, not liking what he saw on his friend's face.

"Ah...looks like pasta of some kind."

"I like pasta," Larabee said.

"Green pasta..."

"Shit, must be that spinach stuff," he said and smiled as something stirred in his memory.

"What are you thinking 'bout, Chris?"

"Remember the week of hell we went through when Sarah decided we weren't getting enough vegetables."

"Oh, shit, yeah..."

"It was all your fault you know!"

"Mine? What did I do?"

"You had that cold and kept bitching about coughing and sneezing and Sarah said it was because you weren't eating right. Remember the cookbook?" Larabee smiled.

"Hell, yeah, the joys of cooking with spinach. I mean I like spinach but how many ways is there to cook it?"

"And how much of it can a man be expected to eat."

"Hell, Stud, it was a good thing you came down with my cold or we'd have been eating the damn stuff for dessert. Remember the spinach soufflé?"

"Oh, shit, I think that's the one that made her throw the book away."

"Thank God!"

"Yeah," Larabee said, a wistful smile on his face as he thought of the woman he still loved and missed. He closed his eyes and pictured her smiling face the day she'd told him she was pregnant with Adam.

Buck saw the look on the face of his friend and knew he was thinking of the family he'd loved and lost. He prayed Anne Sheridan would help put that love back in Larabee's heart, but that was something he'd leave to the two of them.

"She was beautiful, Buck."

"Yes, she was, Chris, and she'd be glad to see you happy again."

"I am happy, Buck."

"I know you are, Chris, but Sarah wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life alone."

"I know...she was always so full of life."

"Yeah, and she will always be part of you. A part of what makes you who you are, Chris. A man I'm proud to know and call friend."

"Thanks, Buck," Larabee said as the ladies man lifted the lid and showed him the light dinner. A chicken and pasta salad lay before him and Chris lifted the fork to his mouth, surprised at the slight hint of spice.

"How is it?"

"Not bad," Larabee said and continued to eat.

"So, is Anne coming by this evening?"

Larabee smiled at the soft question, knowing the ladies man was fishing for information.

"Maybe," he answered simply.

"Come on, Stud, is she coming by? Do you want me to give you some pointers on how to behave?"

"Hell, No! I want to see her again you know!"

"Shoot, Chris, I wouldn't do anything to drive her away." The ladies man smiled at his friend, his eyes twinkling mischievously as the door opened.

"Hi, Chris...Oh, hi Buck, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not, Anne, come on in," Larabee said, smiling as she came towards the bed.

Wilmington's eyes continued to glow with deviltry.

"Hi, Darlin', I was just telling Chris I..."

"He was just telling me he had things to do," Larabee interrupted.

"I was?"

"Yes, you were. Bye, Buck!"

The scoundrel stood up and smiled at the pretty woman as he took her hand and kissed it. He lifted his head and met her soft brown gaze.

"Ah, darlin, if you want to get to know a real man..."

"Buck!" Larabee hissed.

"Okay, okay, I'm going...man can't even..."

"Goodbye, Buck!"

"Oh right, bye Chris. Bye, Anne." He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "He's a bit on the cranky side today....think he might need something to help his..."

"Buck, get out!"

"See what I mean!" The ladies man laughed as he left the room.

"Sorry about that, Anne," Larabee said as she sat on the edge of his bed.

"Don't be, Chris," she told him, taking his left hand in her own. "I have a feeling he's a good friend and he makes you smile."

"Yeah, he does know how to do that," Larabee said as she released his hand.

"You need to finish your dinner."

Larabee picked up his fork and ate most of the pasta, before dropping it again. He sipped at the juice, while she wet a cloth for him. He accepted it from her warm hands and washed the evidence of the meal from around his mouth.

"Thanks, Anne."

"You're welcome," she said and felt his hand grab hers. She met his eyes and again felt the warmth racing through her body.

Chris pulled her down until she was close enough for him to feel her breath on his skin. The brief brush of lips against lips sent sparks flying between them, and Chris knew he'd fight tooth and nail to keep this woman in his life. He sighed wistfully as she pulled away from him, but she met his eyes.

"Are you sure?" she asked hopefully.

"I've never been more sure of anything," he answered and smiled as she moved to kiss him again. The kiss lengthened and deepened as the two people sought to concur the feelings that flowed between them. The sound of the door slamming open shocked them and they parted breathlessly as Larabee's nurse entered the room.

Regina hid her shock at seeing the woman kissing her patient and hurried to the bed.

"Chris, are you al right?" she asked worriedly as she began checking her patient.

"Y...yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"What's going on, Regina?"

The nurse looked up as the doctor hurried into the room.

"I don't know, Dr. Foster. The monitor sounded an alarm," Caldwell said as she lifted up the gown covering Larabee's chest.

"What the hell!" the blond hissed and pulled it back down.

"Chris, calm down. We need to see what's wrong," Foster said.

"Told you nothing's wrong," Larabee hissed, holding the thin covering in place as a second nurse hurried into the room. "Dammit, nothing's wrong! Would you people just leave! I'm perfectly fine."

Foster smiled as he realized what must have happened. "I believe you, Chris," he said with a knowing grin as he saw the swollen lips on the two people.

"Then leave me alone!"

"We will. Just let Regina check the Holter monitor. I have a feeling one of the leads came loose," the doctor explained and signaled for Anne to follow him out.

Chris saw the stern look on the doctor's face as Regina lifted the hospital gown once more. He could tell the older man was going to berate her and he wanted to put a stop to it.

"Hold it, Doc."

"Chris, this has nothing to do with you," Foster assured him.

"If it concerns what just happened, it does!"

"Hospital policy..."

"I know all about hospital policy, Doc, and I know Anne didn't do anything against hospital policy!"

"You're a patient here..."

"Yeah, I am, and she's a nurse, but she's not my nurse and she tried to tell me she didn't want to have anything to do with me!"

"Chris...No...I... I knew what I was doing."

"And so did I. We're both adults and.." He felt Regina trying to fix the disconnected lead and pushed her hands away. "Just stop! Okay...just leave it alone."

The nurse looked at him and could see the frustration in his eyes. "Chris, I have to fix this."

"Shit! Look, Doc, I'm not gonna sue the damn hospital or anything. Anne tried to tell me she couldn't do this, but I wouldn't let go."

"That's not the point, Chris!" Foster told him.

"The hell it's not. Look, we're consenting adults and you've got no right..."

"It's okay, Chris, I can take care of myself," Anne assured him with a weak smile.

"I know you can, but you don't need to face this alone! I'm the one who took the initiative here, Doc, and if anyone has the right to sue for sexual harassment it's Anne not me!"

"Chris, I..."

"Did no...nothing wr...wrong...Shit!" He wheezed and felt Anne's hand on his shoulder. "Look, Doc, s....send some...one from y...your board...an...and I'll tell....tell them... sa...same thing...to...told you."

"Never mind that, Chris, just concentrate on breathing," Anne said, as Foster took the stethoscope and listened to his lungs.

"Regina, he needs a mask!" Foster told the nurse.

"Right away, Doctor," she said and hurried to ready the medication.

"A...Anne, d...don't go..."

"I won't, Chris," Sheridan said, flicking the hair back off his forehead.

"N...nothing...did...noth...ing wr...wrong."

"Sh, Chris, don't worry about it. Everything will work out," Anne assured him as she picked up the cloth and washed the sweat from his forehead.

"Anne," Foster said sympathetically. "You'll still need to face the board."

"I know," the auburn haired woman said sadly.

"N...not by...self!" the blond ground out.

"I know, Chris, now just be quiet and rest."

"C...can't, s...sick," the blond warned.

Foster eased him onto his side and placed the basin in front of him, waiting for this new bout of nausea to stop. He looked up as Regina entered with the required medication and he eased the patient back on the bed. They placed the mask over Larabee's mouth and nose and watched as tired green eyes opened.

"Wo...won't let y...you fa...face it a...lone," the blond whispered. "Pro...mise me... Doc...don't...l...let her f...face the bo...board alone."

"She won't, Chris, but right now you need to relax and breath in the medication," Foster told him, seeing in Larabee's eyes how much he cared for the woman in question. He turned towards the nurse and saw the same feelings there.

"I won't let them convene until you're well enough to speak for yourself, okay?" the cardiologist asked.

"....o...kay...," Larabee said, reaching out for Anne's hand as his eyes closed. "Stay..." he mumbled.

"I'm not going anywhere," the worried nurse said as she settled in the chair and gently tucked the blankets around the injured man.

"Regina, this doesn't go beyond this room until I've had a chance to speak to the board," Foster warned.

"Yes, Doctor," Caldwell agreed and watched him leave the room. She turned to the nurse, a woman she'd known for a year and smiled at her.

"Are you sure you know what you're getting into, Anne?" she asked.

Sheridan looked at the other woman through moisture laden eyes, and then dropped her gaze to the wheezing form on the bed.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Reggie," she said, using the nickname she'd used since they met.

"Then I wish you both the best," she said as she changed the IV bag over Larabee's bed. "Just call me if he needs anything."

"I will," Sheridan said. Once she was alone in the room she let the worry and fear manifest itself in the tears she'd held in check. She cried softly, and was surprised when her hand was clasped tightly.

"It's o...kay," the blond whispered. He met her eyes before falling into a deep sleep, knowing she wouldn't have to face a disciplinary board on her own. They would face this together and triumph once more, a vow he knew he'd make good on.

Part 54

Nathan and Vin walked into the room shortly after the mask was removed from Larabee's face. They knew something had happened as the nasal canulas were back in place. Anne Sheridan sat at his bedside, her eyes rimmed with red, evidence that she'd been crying.

"Anne, what happened?" Jackson asked softly, not wanting to wake the sleeping man.

"Come outside and I'll tell you," she answered, standing up and walking to the door.

"Vin, I'll be right back," the medic said.

Tanner nodded as the two people walked out of the room. He sat in the chair and rubbed his throbbing shoulder. He started therapy on it the week before and everyday it got a little easier. Today was an exception as he forced himself to go beyond the requirements. He smiled, knowing Stacey Midland would have berated him for it if she'd been close by. He watched Larabee's face, seeing the evidence of the pain that still lingered in his body. He knew Chris would be okay, but hated the idea of how much his friend still had to go through. They'd be starting to get him out of bed again the next day, and physio was also going to start up. The broken hip would take a long time to heal, especially with Larabee's other injuries and recent bouts with plant toxins.

"It may take some time, Pard, but we'll be there to help you," Tanner vowed.

Chris heard the familiar voice as if through a thick blanket of fog. He groaned and turned his head towards his friend, forcing a smile to his face as he fought to open his eyes. Slowly the lids lifted until the blurred images focused and Tanner smiled back at him.

"Hey, Vin," he coughed and reached for the water on the table beside the bed, sipping greedily from the straw.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened?" the tracker asked.

"Happened?" Larabee frowned, trying to retrieve the information he needed.

"Why those things are back." The sharpshooter pointed to the nasal canulas.

"Oh!" he frowned and again tried to remember what happened. He closed his eyes and let the images flow until his mind focused on the misplaced lead and subsequent confrontation with the doctor.

"Ah, Hell, Vin. It's not her fault!"

"Not who's fault?" Tanner asked and realized Larabee was talking about the nurse. "Anne?"

"Yeah, she was here and we were talking and I wanted...wanted to show her how...I...I felt," Larabee explained.

"So, what happened?"

"One of the damn leads on this thing came off and it sent an alarm to the nurse's desk."

"Oh, Hell, Chris," Tanner said with a grin. "Don't tell me they caught you and Anne in a compromising situation?"

"It's not funny, Vin, it means she'll have to face a hospital board...she might lose her job because of me."

Tanner's face grew serious as he listened to his friend explain exactly what happened. What he'd first thought would've been a great laugh turned out to be another piece of trouble for the blond.

"I'm not gonna let them do that to her, Vin. She didn't do anything wrong and she doesn't deserve to be blamed for any of this."

"Neither do you, Chris," Tanner told him.

"Told Dr. Foster to tell the board to send someone to talk to me and I'd sign any papers they w...wanted me t...to."

Vin knew Larabee was becoming breathless again and he placed a hand on the trembling shoulder. He waited for the green eyes to meet his and smiled.

"Chris, just relax, Pard. Nothin' you can do about any of that right now," he said as the door opened and Nathan and Anne walked back in.

Jackson nodded towards Tanner and stepped up to the bed. He hated seeing Larabee like this and he knew there was nothing he could do to ease his friends mind about what might happen, but he was going to try.

"Chris, Anne explained what happened and I don't think anything serious will come from it. They might reprimand..."

"Doesn't deserve a reprimand..."

"I know, but she'll probably receive one," Jackson explained.

"But I'm n...not her pa...patient!" Larabee insisted.

"Not now, but you were, Chris," Anne explained.

"Shit! I'm so...sorry, Anne, didn't mean t...to cause y...you any trou...ble," the blond said.

"Don't be sorry, Chris. I wanted...want this as much as you. You do still want to try, don't you?"

"Hell, y...yes!" the injured man swore.

'Then you need to calm down and let yourself heal so we can fight this together. Okay?"

"O...kay."

"Good!" Jackson hissed. "Now that that's settled I want you to settle down and be quiet. You got that?"

"Y...yeah...I got it, b...boss," the blond said with a grin, and heard Tanner try to stifle a chuckle.

Anne smiled as she listened to the three men talk. The relationship between these seven men was special and she saw it every time one or more of them came to visit Chris Larabee. She watched the blond's face as he slowly relaxed and his breathing returned to normal.

'Thank, God,' she thought as she met his gaze once more.

"Chris, I have to go," she told him.

"You'll come back?"

"Nothing could keep me away," she whispered in his ear, aware of the others watching her. She felt his head turn and she kissed his cheek softly before standing up.

"We'll make them listen," he told her and smiled as she left the room.

"You sure about this, Chris?" Jackson asked.

"Never been more sure of anything in a long, long time, Nathan," Larabee assured him.

"Then it's a fight we'll be there to help both of you win!" Tanner vowed.

"Never doubted it for the world," Larabee said and relaxed against the pillows.

+ + + + + + +

The next week passed slowly for Chris as he began to heal. Physio on his hip was hard and the pain on his face told the others just how much he was going through. His ribs and shoulder also began to heal, but the weakness in his lungs continued to be a problem, one that often left him breathless and frustrated. The IV was gone from his arm now that he was able to eat and keep things down. He was alone in his room, sitting in the wheelchair, waiting for the others to come take him outside again. This was the time of day he looked forward to most, a little freedom from the captive hours spent in this room.

Chris felt his mind drifting back to the meeting with the woman from the hospital board. She'd come down to speak with him about what went on between him and Anne Sheridan. No on else was present and Dr. Kelly Smith was very professional in the way she conducted her talk with him. She asked him if anything happened while he was Anne's patient in the ICU and he assured her nothing went on until well after he'd been moved out of the unit. He told her how he was the one to initiate everything and that Anne even told him she couldn't go through with it. Kelly listened as he explained how his feelings for Anne had nothing to do with her taking care of him and that they were both adults with no ties to anyone else. He signed papers releasing the hospital from any responsibility for what was happening between himself and Anne Sheridan. He showed the copies to Anne when she came to see him that evening and they talked again about the possibility of her losing her job.

Chris looked out the window, thinking about what Anne told him the day before. She signed on with an agency who assigned jobs to nurses who were willing to travel. She requested a position in or around Billings, Montana and was waiting to hear from them. Chris was as excited as she was with the possibility of her moving to Billings, knowing it would give them a chance to get to know each other without putting pressure on them. He asked if she was sure about giving up her position at Washoe and she assured him she was ready for this change. He closed his eyes and thought about the possibilities that lay ahead for both of them, a smile on his face as he remembered the time they'd spent together the night before.

Josiah eased the door open in case Larabee was sleeping, but wasn't surprised to see the younger man sitting by the window. He let the door close behind him and walked over to the patient.

"Afternoon, Chris? Are you ready to go outside?"

Larabee smiled and nodded his head. "Are you kidding? Get me out of here before someone decides I need something else done to make me feel better."

"That bad?" Sanchez asked.

"Not really, no more than the usual anyway," the blond told him.

Josiah knew it was more than the pain bothering the injured man. He remembered talking to him about his developing relationship with Anne Sheridan and knew Larabee blamed himself for her troubles. What Chris didn't know was that Anne talked to him as well. Josiah would not betray her confidence, anymore than he would any of the six men on the team, but he knew she was worried about the impact her moving to Billings would have on this man. The ex-preacher smiled inwardly at the thought of these two people helping each other heal, because that's what was going to happen if they got together.

"Do you want me to get the nurse to give you something for pain?" the older man asked when Larabee winced as he moved on the chair.

"No, not right now. Let's just go outside. Where are the others?"

"They're waiting outside. Got a little surprise planned for you."

"They do?" Larabee smiled.

"Yes, they do," Sanchez laughed at the excitement on the blond's face. "Now why don't we go see what they have in mind?"

"Sounds like a plan, Josiah, get me out of here."

Sanchez pushed the chair towards the door, but before he got there it opened and his nurse entered.

"Chris, I need to do your vitals," Nancy explained.

"Ah, he...Look, can't it wait until I come back in?"

"Well..."

"Come on, Nancy, give the man a break. He's been cooped up in here for over a week," Sanchez explained.

Nancy smiled at the hope on the handsome face of her patient and nodded.

"Alright, but be back in half an hour or I'll be forced to come find you."

"Half an hour!" Larabee winced.

"Well, we could do it now and get you back in bed," Nancy said.

"No...ah...I'll take the half hour."

"Smart man," Nancy said and held the door open for Sanchez to push him through.

+ + + + + + +

"Do you think he remembers what today is?" Dunne asked as they spread a cloth over the newly set up table.

"Probably not, Kid," Wilmington explained.

"I'd be surprised if he even knew the date," Jackson said, fastening the clips to hold the cloth in place.

"How old is Mr. Larabee turning today?" Standish asked as he placed paper plates around the table.

"He's a year older than me so I guess that make him 43," the ladies man answered.

"43! That's practically..."

"Say it kid, and you won't live to be practically anything!" Buck warned.

Vin placed the basket of ribs and taters on the table and turned to see Jackson place the chocolate, cherry cheesecake in the center of the table.

"You are gonna let him have some of it aren't you, Nate?" the sharpshooter asked.

"Hell, Vin, I'm not that bad. This is a special day for Chris and that's why we got all his favorites, isn't it? Well, except for the suicide sauce. I really don't think he could handle that today," Jackson answered with a grin.

"Too bad Miss Sheridan had to work," Standish observed.

"Yeah, but maybe she'll deliver her own birthday present to Chris when the lights go out," the scoundrel laughed, his eyebrows wagging up and down as he said it.

"Mr. Wilmington, that's crude," the gambler said as he placed plastic utensils at each place setting.

"Not for Chris..."

"Shut up, Buck, here they come," Jackson warned as he lit the fourteen candles.

Chris closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the warm sun on his face as Sanchez wheeled him into the garden. The thought of being outside had driven most of the pain from his body, and he was looking forward to relaxing in the flower garden. His eyes opened wide as six voices started to sing.

"Happy Birthday to you..."

"Ah, hell!" Larabee hissed, but couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face. He'd forgotten his own birthday, but these guys didn't and for that he was grateful.

"Happy birthday to you..."

"I don't believe this..."

"Happy birthday dear Chris...Stud...Cowboy..."

Larabee was laughing as the different names shot from different mouths.

"Happy Birthday to you." The six men finished and Wilmington placed the cake in front of his long time friend.

"Happy birthday, Pard, and I hope we share a hundred more" the ladies' man said seriously. "Now make a wish and blow out the damn candles!"

Larabee swallowed the painful lump in his throat and smiled as he counted the candles... Fourteen. He knew the significance of the number instantly...A candle for each member of the team...past and present. He felt tears forming in his eyes, but refused to let them fall. 'Wish you guys will always be a part of my life,' he thought.

"My mother told me I'd never see fourteen again...glad to see she was wrong," he said, looking at each face before blowing out the candles.

"Ah, hell, Stud, you're gettin' downright sentimental!" Wilmington said, turning away and grabbing a napkin to wipe at his eyes.

"Seems he's not the only one, Buck!" Dunne said with a grin.

"Got something in my eyes, Kid!" the ladies man said as he took control of the wheelchair and pushed Larabee towards the head of the table.

Chris looked at the meal before him, a smile spreading over his face as he spotted one of his favorite takeout foods and several cans of diet Pepsi.

Six pairs of eyes looked towards Josiah Sanchez as he said a blessing over the meal, before seating themselves.

"Dig in boys!" the ladies man said.

"Oh, man, I'm going to en..."

"Chris, just take it easy on..."

"Like Hell, Nathan, I'm gonna pig out and you're not gonna stop me!"

"That's what I thought you'd say," Jackson said, smiling as he filled the injured man's plate. "Enjoy, Chris."

"Thanks, Nathan," the blond said as he picked up the succulent rib smother in mild barbecue sauce.

"Well?" Wilmington asked.

"Oh, God, this is..."

"Delectable, Mr. Larabee?" Standish asked and the blond nodded his head.

The seven friends ate the meal, laughing and talking, until the entire batch of ribs and taters disappeared. JD and Ezra cleared the table and set a package of small paper plates on the table.

Chris watched as Jackson cut a piece of cake and he felt his mouth watering in anticipation. The cake was placed before him and he picked up the new fork. The layers of chocolate cheesecake, cherries, chocolate syrup and whipped cream called to him and he didn't wait for the others to get theirs. He placed the first forkful in his mouth and closed his eyes, sighing contentedly as the explosion of flavor hit his taste buds.

"Yep, I've died and gone to cheesecake heaven," Larabee mumbled around a mouthful of food. Again he ate everything on his plate and sat back, patting his stomach in appreciation.

"Damn, I don't remember the last time I had anything so good," he told them as they cleaned up the mess.

"Chris."

"Yeah, Josiah?"

"I'm afraid the half hour is up."

"Damn...just a few more minutes, okay?" the blond asked, in spite of the pain in his hip as he shifted position.

"I don't think so, Chris," Jackson said.

"Come on, Nathan, we haven't even given him his birthday present," Wilmington said.

Larabee's face grew serious as he looked at his friends and his heart seemed to skip a beat at each set of eyes.

"Yes...yes you have...all of you," he said simply. He knew they understood what he was telling them, that their friendship and being there was the best birthday present he could have.

"Ah, Hell, he's getting sentimental again!" Wilmington said, smiling as he reached behind him for a package they kept hidden during the meal.

Chris looked at the wrapping, smiling at the white horses that seemed to race across a midnight sky. A silver bow sat in the centre and gold ribbon was wrapped decoratively around it.

Buck placed it on the table in front of the blond and moved back, letting Vin step forward.

"We ordered this a while back, Cowboy, and...W...ah we hope you like it," the Texan drawled.

"What is it?" Larabee asked.

"Open it and see, Chris!" Dunne exclaimed.

"Nothing's gonna jump out at me is it, Buck?" the blond asked, laughing as he pulled on the ribbon.

"Damn, wish I'd thought of doing that!" the ladies man said as Larabee ripped open the wrapping, revealing a cherry wood case with gold trim. He ran his hand over the gold letters, C. A. L. and the date, August 1st, 2002. underneath it.

"Aren't you gonna open it, Cowboy?" Tanner asked.

Somehow Chris knew what he'd find when he opened the lid and he fought the emotions running through him. He felt the others standing behind him and slowly lifted the lid.

"Oh, God," he said as his eyes took in the pearl handled Colt revolver sitting in a bed of red velvet. A black leather holster, decorated with silver studs, sat beside it. "How did you get this?"

"We had JD search the NET until he came across this one. It's dated back to 1874 and has a certificate of authenticity," Standish explained.

Chris ran his fingers over the handle of the revolver and smiled as he looked at the men.

"I don't know what to say, except...thanks, Boys. This may not have belonged to my great, great grandfather, but it came from around that time and looks like the one we used to...to...kill Maguire." The blond closed the case and handed it to Buck Wilmington, knowing he couldn't take it into the hospital with him.

"All right, Chris, no more arguments! It's time to get you back upstairs and in bed," the medic said.

Larabee didn't speak, just nodded his head as Jackson took control of the wheelchair. He knew he'd overstayed his time in the chair by the throbbing pain emanating from his hip, but he was glad to have had this time with his friends.

Half an hour later he was back in the bed, his hip screaming loudly at the mistreatment. Nancy had already taken his vitals and given him a shot and Chris sighed as it finally took effect. He knew Vin and Nathan were in the room and could hear them talking as he slipped into a restful sleep.

His dreams were of the seven men from the Old West and one man in particular. Vin Tanner stood tall and proud on a beautiful horse, a mountain stretching high above him. Chris watched his lips move, but didn't hear what he said.

Vin and Nathan looked up as Larabee began to mumble something and the sharpshooter moved closer. He knew there was nothing fearful in his friend's dreams because of the smile and he tried to decipher the words.

"What's he saying, Vin?" Jackson asked.

"I'm not sure...but it sounds like 'check the handle'."

"Check the handle. What handle?"

"Guess we'll have to wait for him to wake up to find out," the sharpshooter settled into the chair, his curiosity piqued by his best friend's words.

Part 55

Something soft touched his cheek and he longed to open his eyes. Unfortunately the day's excitement left him exhausted, his body aching with the need for relief from the pain. The hand was back and the fingers danced lightly over his forehead, tenderly running through his hair. A hint of roses touched his senses and he knew whose hands were touching him.

"Anne," he whispered without opening his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Chris, I didn't mean to wake you," the nurse said softly.

"You didn't," he lied and heard a soft laugh as he opened his eyes and met the soft brown ones of the woman sitting beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore, but a good kind of sore. The kind that comes from spending time with family and sharing some special moments with them."

"Buck and Ezra told me about the party. I'm sorry I couldn't be there..."

"It's okay. You can't give up everything just to be with me, although..." his eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I don't think you're in any shape for an although, Chris," Anne laughed as he frowned.

"Damn, how about a kiss then?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea either. Remember the last time we were alone and ah...kissed."

His face lit up as he reached for her hand.

"The monitor is gone," he said, smiling as he pulled her down into a tight embrace. They held each other, not saying a word, feeling the beat of each other's hearts in their chests and gazing deeply into each other's eyes.

Anne leaned closer until their lips met once more and again the sparks seemed to fly as the heat radiated from their bodies. Finally the need to breathe made it necessary to draw apart and Chris smiled at the woman seated on the bed beside him.

"Happy Birthday, Chris," she whispered in his ear. " I wish I could've got you something, but I didn't know until this morning.

"Well, there is something..."

"Anything....just name it," the auburn haired beauty told him.

"An instant replay of what we just shared," the blond said and smiled as she drew close to him again.

"Damn!" he said as she drew away.

"Damn is right," Anne said, blushing as she used his own word. She reached for the glass on the table and passed it to Chris.

"Thanks," the injured man said as he sat up further in the bed.

"So, I hear you're getting out of here."

"Yeah, Dr. Barrett finally agreed I can do physio at home as easily as I can in here."

"When?"

"Day after tomorrow. Barrett and Hastings talked with Stacey Midland in Billings and she's arranging everything from her end. With any luck I'll be home before the weekend."

Anne smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes as she looked at him.

"I'm glad, Chris, you've been here long enough. Between your original injuries and everything Patrice Milliard put you through it's been a long road."

"Yes, it has, but things are working out. The board exonerated you and your job is safe."

"Yes, it is, but I'm not staying on..."

"You're sure about this...about us?" Larabee asked.

"As sure as I've ever been about anything. I want so much to give us a try and the agency I've applied to has an opening in Billings..."

"Saint Vincents," Larabee asked.

"Yes, but I'll make sure I'm never assigned to take care of you if you're admitted there and from what your friends say it's your part time residence."

"Oh, Hell, remind me I need to have a talk with my friends about discussing my private life," but there was no anger in his voice.

"They're just concerned about you, Chris!"

"Yeah, they always are," Larabee said and then looked into her eyes once more. "So when do you expect to come to Billings?"

"I have to finish up two weeks here and finish up a couple of other things. I should be in Billings in a month."

"That long?"

Anne laughed as she saw the frown deepen on his face.

"Chris, I need time to pack and arrange to have my things shipped to Billings and find an apartment there."

"The building JD and Buck live in might have one available." Larabee explained. "Want me to have them check into it for you?"

"That'd be great, Chris," Anne said. "Now it's getting late and you need your rest..."

"Not without a goodnight kiss!" Larabee told her.

"I wouldn't dream of leaving without a goodnight kiss," she said and gave him a peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow!" she smiled and turned away, but a strong hand grabbed her wrist.

"That's not exactly the kind of kiss I was looking for. I'm kind've cold and need something to warm me up..."

"I'll get you another blanket," she said mischievously.

"Ah, Hell!" the blond swore disappointedly. "Don't need a blanket."

Anne smiled as she bent down and kissed him the way she really wanted too, long and deep. She finally drew away and smiled at the man on the bed.

"Was that better?" she asked.

"Hell, yeah!" he said with a grin.

A soft laugh left her and she shook her head at his reaction. She remembered the few times she'd kissed Richard Fischer, there'd never been fireworks like the ones she felt when she kissed this man. Richard was not a cold fish, but his lovemaking left a lot to be desired and she wondered what it would be like to make love with this man. She sighed as she stood up, thankful that they were going to take the time to work on a relationship, to explore hidden feelings, and hopefully share a life together.

"Get some sleep, Chris," she said as she walked towards the door.

"Anne?" He waited until she turned towards him. "I won't hurt you!"

"I know!" she told him. "I'll see you tomorrow, sleep well."

"Okay," he said as she opened the door and left. He closed his eyes and thought about Sarah and Adam, knowing Anne Sheridan would never replace his wife. Anne was a different woman and he knew if there was a life for him with her it would be totally different from the one he shared with Sarah. He sighed contentedly as he realized he could begin to love again, and not have it hurt. Sleep soon overcame him and his dreams were filled with hope for a new future, one he could look forward to again.

+ + + + + + +

Billings, Montana,-2002

Three days later Chris Larabee boarded The Firm's private jet bound for Billings, Montana, knowing Anne would not be far behind him. His friends were with him, Buck pushing the wheelchair while the others walked beside him. The flight home was long and tiring on the injured man and by the time they reached the airport he was ready to rest. It was decided that they'd spend the night at Nathan Jackson's home, making it easier for the blond to keep his appointment with Stacey Midland the next day.

Chris sighed heavily as he eased himself into the bed and pulled the blankets up over his aching body. The trip had taken a toll on him and his hip throbbed. He looked up as Jackson came into the room holding a glass of water and two pills. Chris smiled weakly and accepted the pills without the usual complaints and the medic knew the man was in more pain than he'd let on during the flight.

Jackson waited until his friend took the pills and drank the water, before turning off the light and closing the drapes.

"Thanks, Nathan," Larabee mumbled as the medic stood at the door.

"You're welcome, Chris. I'll be in the other room if you need anything. Just call, okay?"

"I will. The others gone home yet?"

"Yeah, all except Vin. He's gonna spend the night as well."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Hungry as usual and he'll be seeing Dr. Midland tomorrow as well."

"Oh, Hell," Larabee said, but smiled as he closed his eyes. "Night, Nathan."

"Goodnight, Chris, and welcome home!"

"Thanks, Nathan, it's good to be home." Larabee heard the door closing and let his eyes close. He was soon fast asleep, once more smiling as a soft Texan drawl told him to check the handle.

"I will," he mumbled in the darkened room.

Part 56

Chris sat in the office of Dr. Stacey Midland, waiting for her to finish reading over the chart from Washoe County Medical Center. His shoulder was pretty well healed, his ribs were doing better. His lungs still gave him fits if he overexerted himself, and he had puffers to use as needed. The hip was also finally on the mend and he could soon replace the crutches with a cane. The marks from the caning and the electrical belt were faded and didn't cause him more than a slight twinge of pain. She lifted her head and looked at one of her most frequent patients and smiled.

"So, Chris, how are you feeling?"

"I'm doing better, Doc," Larabee answered truthfully.

"Is the pain medication helping at all?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Are you taking them?" Stacey asked disbelievingly.

"When I need them."

Midland laughed, knowing that meant the stubborn man waited until he really had no choice and the pain got beyond his ability to 'live with it.'

"So, I guess that means the pain medication will end up thrown out after the date is expired," she stated and saw the smile on Larabee's face.

"Probably," the blond answered honestly.

"Well, you know they were prescribed because Dr. Barrett thought you needed them?"

"Yeah, Doc, and I'll take them when I need them," the patient assured her.

"Sure you will," Midland said and opened another chart. "Anyway, I've got your Physio scheduled starting tomorrow at Saint Vincents. You're to report to James Neilson at the physio department at eleven am." She handed him a paper with his instructions on it and waited until he read it.

"Thanks, Doc."

"Chris, you're going to have to work hard to get that hip back in shape."

"That's what Dr. Hastings told me. You know me, Doc, I'm going to do everything I need to."

"Good, because I've also scheduled you for an appointment with Susan..."

"I don't need to see a psychiatrist, Doc, I seen one in Washoe."

"I know you did, Chris and Dr. Carlyle said he'd like you to be seen by Susan James. Just to make sure you're not suffering any residual affects from the PTSD or the LSD."

"Doc, I'm fine. I talked about what happened with M...Maguire and I haven't had any flashbacks in weeks now."

"I know, Chris, but it's important that we follow up on everything. You know Susan, Chris and she knows what you've been through since Sarah and Adam..."

"Doc, I don't need to see her."

"Humor me, Chris."

"Oh, Hell, alright, Doc, I'll see Susan James."

"Good," Midland smiled and passed him a second sheet of paper. "She's got you penciled in for August 12th at two."

"Alright, Doc," Larabee said and picked up the crutches. "Is that it?"

"Not quite. I want to see you in a week. Just tell Monica to schedule an appointment for whatever time is best for you."

"Shoot, Doc..."

"One week, Chris!"

Standing up and leaning heavily on the crutches, Larabee nodded and walked towards the door. He turned at the last minute and asked.

"How long?"

Midland knew what the blond was asking and she smiled at how easily she could read him.

"I think you can go back to light duties starting Monday..."

"Great!"

"Chris, I said light duties! That means paper work...you know what you boys call being a desk jockey? Not out running around the streets or getting into verbal battles with criminals."

"I hear ya, Doc," he said, a cocky grin on his face.

"Ah, Chris, would you like me to change the orders?"

"Hell no, Doc. Light duties starting Monday. See you in a week."

Midland watched as he maneuvered out the door and closed it behind him. She shook her head and opened the file on her desk. She knew Larabee had been through hell since he'd gone on vacation with Vin Tanner. She knew about his injuries, both mental and physical, and was pleased to see how well he looked after the long trip the day before. His injuries were slowly healing and she'd cursed when she read about the toxin poisoning by Patrice Milliard. Larabee would have to go back and testify against the woman during the trial, but by then he should be well healed. She closed the file and shook her head.

'If this keeps up I'll need a full shelf just to hold your file,' she thought seriously at the thickness of Chris Larabee's medical record.

+ + + + + + +

Buck stood up as Chris came out of the office and held the outer door for Larabee to move through. Once outside in the lobby the ladies man looked seriously at his friend.

"Well?"

"What?"

"What did the doc have to say?"

"The same thing she always does. Take your pain meds. Physio is set for tomorrow, see Susan James on August 12th, see her in a week...and," a smile covered his face as they stepped into the elevator. "light duties starting on Monday."

"Hell, sounds like the doc's got your sche..." The scoundrel stared at his friend as he caught the last part of Larabee's explanation.

"Light duties? You mean she's letting you go back to work?"

"Yeah. She said I was doing great..."

"But," he looked at his friend doubtfully. "Are you sure she said this Monday? I mean couldn't she have meant next year?"

"No, Buck, this Monday. I can't wait to get back to work, and you've got my permission to slug me if I mention going on vacation anytime in the near future."

"Hell, Pard, I'd probably have to line up behind the others," he said as the elevator opened on the first floor. They walked towards Wilmington's 2001 candy apple red Ford Mustang convertible. He'd bought it a few months before when his old faithful Chevy finally bit the dust.

Chris slid into the comfortable seats and rested his head back, closing his eyes at the bright sunshine. He felt Buck close the door and walk to the opposite side. The blond couldn't believe how easily he tired. By the time they drove onto the highway leading to his ranch he was sleeping with his head turned to the right.

Buck kept an eye on his friend during the hour long drive to his ranch. The others were already there, making sure everything was ready for the owner's return. He smiled as he thought of Chris' reaction when he finally got home, knowing the first place he would go was the barn. Pony and Peso were being cared for by a good man who'd been working for Chris and Vin since they'd bought the adjoining ranches several years before.

Chris felt the change immediately and knew they were pulling into his driveway. He opened excited eyes and smiled contentedly as they stopped in front of his single story ranch house. He pushed the door open and slid out, standing against the side of the car as he surveyed the familiar surroundings.

"Damn it's good to be home," Larabee said and stood away from the door as four men came out of the house. He didn't need to ask where Vin Tanner was and smiled knowing he'd be heading for the same place before going into his home.

"You forgetting something, Pard?" Wilmington asked.

"What?" Larabee asked.

"These!"

"Damn!" the blond swore, but begrudgingly took the crutches. He greeted the others but bypassed the door to the house and headed around back towards the large stable. He could hear the others following him, and smiled knowing they knew where he was headed. He made it across the yard and smiled as he spotted Vin leading Peso into the corral. Pony was already there and Chris Larabee smiled as the horse's head came up and looked towards him. The gelding whinnied and the blond laughed as he hurried towards the beautiful animal.

"Hey, Boy," he said as he slipped through the gate and reached for Pony. He propped one of the crutches against the fence and used his hands to pat the gelding. He laughed as the horse nuzzled him, feeling the others close by, and knowing they were letting him have this. For Chris Larabee this was freedom, and he was ready to jump on Pony's back and ride with the wind.

"Don't even think about it, Pard, Nathan would shoot ya before ya got a leg up," Tanner said from beside him. The arm was still immobilized, but he was due to have the bandages removed for good the following week. He'd just have to continue with physio for a couple of weeks, but the arm was healing just fine.

"Yes, I would!" Jackson said from the opposite side of the fence.

"Shoot, Nathan, I'm not gonna..."

"I know you're not, Chris," the medic interrupted with a grin. "I'd have to do what Vin said."

"Shoot me!" Larabee said, frowning as the Texan drawl repeated the words from his dreams. "Shoot me..."

"Chris, are you alright?" Sanchez asked.

"Y...yeah...I think so, Josiah....Buck, where did you put the Colt?"

"The one we gave you for your birthday?" the scoundrel asked.

"Yeah!"

"It's in the house. I put it in your bedroom," Wilmington answered.

Larabee looked at him and asked. "Can you get it?"

"Sure....Why?"

"I'm not sure...Something Vin said."

"Me?"

"No...not you. The other Vin," Larabee answered, smiling at his best friend.

"Oh," the tracker said simply.

They were silent as each man thought about what Larabee said. The seven men from the past were still influencing their lives. Buck returned with the case a few minutes later, curiosity evident on his face.

"So what now?" the scoundrel asked.

"Give me the gun," Larabee ordered and waited for Buck to open the case. He took the Colt 45 from the ladies man and looked at the handle. He ran his fingers over the bottom and smiled as he felt something in the right hand corner. A small smile lit up his handsome face as he found the two letters, leaving no doubt in his mind that the gun had come full circle once more.

"Chris, what is it?" Wilmington asked curiously.

"It's my great, great grandfather's gun," the blond answered.

"What? How do you know?" Dunne asked.

"There are two letters carved into the handle. I can barely make them out, but I'm sure what they are."

"What letters, Mr. Larabee?" Standish asked.

"CL," Tanner answered before the blond could.

"Yeah," Larabee answered.

"Life always seems to come full circle, Chris, and I'd guess that gun was destined to come back into your hands," Sanchez explained as the gun was passed from one man to another and back into the hands of its rightful owner.

Chris ran his hands over the initials once more and smiled. 'Thanks, Boys,'he thought as they walked out of the corral and headed for the house.

+ + + + + + +

The days dragged for Chris, as he waited for the day he'd head back to the office. Vin was staying with him at night to help out when needed, but the blond was alone during the day. He lost count of how many times he walked out to the barn, rub Pony and Peso down and lead them into the corral. Today was no different than the three preceding days as he had to fight the urge to saddle Pony and head out on the ranch land. He sighed heavily, patted Pony and Peso's neck and headed into the house once more. The shrill ringing of the phone caught his attention and he hurried to pick it up, wincing as he forgot the healing hip.

"Damn!" he swore as he placed the phone to his ear and hissed. "Larabee!"

"Hi, Chris."

"Anne," his tone changed as he heard her soft voice.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just have to remember not to run to..."

"Run to answer the phone," Sheridan finished, a whimsical hint to her voice.

"Yeah," the blond answered. "How are you doing, Anne?"

"I'm okay, but I miss you."

"I miss you too. Buck's been checking into the apartments and it looks like there's one available in his building the end of August. I'm going to check it out for you next week."

"Chris, you don't have to do that. I'll be able to search for an apartment when I come up there."

"I know, Anne. I'm just putting out a few feelers. The choice will be up to you. I'm having JD take pictures of the prospective apartments with the digital camera. Least that way you've got a starting point."

"That'll be great," Anne told him. "You have my e mail address?"

"Already programmed into the computer. Any idea when you'll be making the move?"

"I should be ready to move in three and a half weeks. My furniture and other items will be shipped within a week of my leaving. I've booked into a hotel..."

"Why don't you just stay here with me? I've got spare rooms and..."

"I'd rather not, Chris. At least not right now. I...well I want to know I can do things there on my own if things don't work out between us."

"I understand...don't mean to be pushy..."

"No...No you're not being pushy and I think it's sweet that you offered the room. I just don't want to go too fast and...well...you know? Please tell me you understand."

"Of course I do...besides Josiah keeps saying absence makes the heart grow fonder..."

"Yes, it does do that. I miss you so much."

"Miss you too."

"I have to go get ready for work. Call me?"

"Of course," he answered softly.

"Bye, Chris."

"Bye, Anne," he answered and hung up the phone. He sank back against the soft cushions on the couch and drifted off to sleep. His dreams were filled with visions of an auburn haired beauty and a second chance at loving someone special.

Part 57

Vin pushed open the door to Larabee's ranch, not surprised to find the door unlocked. He walked through the foyer and into the living room, smiling at the soft snores coming from the couch. He walked towards the slumbering man and shook his head at the awkward way Larabee slept. The blond head was tilted at an angle, leaning slightly to the left. The slack mouth hung partially open, and the look on Larabee's face was one of sheer rapture.

'What are you dreaming about, Pard?' he thought.

'Hell, Cowboy, you're gonna be stiff when you wake up,' the tracker thought as he moved around the couch. He knew the blond still tired easily and needed his rest, but it would be cruel to leave him sleeping like this. He bent to lift the long legs onto the couch. He knew the best way to handle the injured hip because he'd been to the physio session with Chris two days before. His own arm was healing fine as long as he remembered to take it easy with it. He moved back quickly as Larabee's left arm came up to slap at his arms.

"Hey, Cowboy, what the hell are ya doin'?"

"D...dreamin'...lemme fuckin' be..." the blond mumbled through a dry throat and quickly sank back into his dream.

"That's gratitude for ya. Man tries to make his friend comfortable and gets hit and cursed on." He grumbled as he took the black and white afghan and threw it over the once more sleeping man. He smiled as Larabee pulled the homemade gift from Nettie Wells up over his shoulder and continued to sleep.

Vin moved away from the couch and into the kitchen. It was closing in on five o'clock and he wanted to have dinner ready for Larabee when he finally woke up. He opened the fridge, knowing Josiah and Nathan had stocked up on everything they'd need. He smiled as he remembered telling Larabee about the bluish mound of mold that dared invade his refrigerator while he was away. They all shared a great laugh as the blond tried to look stern.

Vin pulled out the chicken breasts, he'd placed in there before leaving for the office, and opened the package. He quickly grabbed spices, mixed them with Italian breadcrumbs and flattened the chicken breasts. He grabbed two eggs and broke them into a small bowl, beating them with a fork until they were fluffy. He placed a slice of smoked ham and Suisse cheese on top of each of the breasts and gently rolled them up before dipping them into the egg mixture and finally the Italian breadcrumbs. He placed them on a non-stick baking sheet and plopped it into the oven. With the main course baking, he turned his attention to the rest of the dinner he had planned.

A hour and a half later Chris moved on the couch and slowly opened his eyes. He heard movement in the kitchen and knew the sharpshooter was back. He teased Vin about his culinary attributes, but the truth was the tracker was an excellent cook. He seemed to have a natural ability to make a meal out of anything that was available. Whatever masterpiece he was working on teased Larabee's sense and he shifted slightly, enjoying the sweet aromas coming form the open kitchen. He pushed up on his elbows and eased his legs over the side of the couch, wincing at the stiffness in his hip and upper body.

"Damn!" he hissed as he held his head in his hands.

"Ya finally awake, Larabee?" Tanner asked, coming back into the living room.

"Yeah," the blond said and rubbed at his healing hip.

"Want a hand up, ol' timer?"

Larabee looked up from his seated position on the couch and scowled at his best friend.

"Want to be shot?"

"Hey, was just offerin'. I mean you're lookin kind've...Hell-ish."

"Hell-ish...is that a new word Tanner?"

"Nope it's a new Larabee look!" The Texan grinned as he offered his left hand to the blond.

Chris smiled and reached for the extended arm and clenched his teeth as the smaller man pulled him from the couch. He was grateful for Tanner's steadying hand as he reached for the crutches.

"Jesus, guess I should've gone to bed," Larabee hissed as he walked towards the kitchen and the comfortable breakfast nook. He sank into a chair and looked gratefully at the cup of strong coffee before him.

"Thought you could use a cup," the tracker said simply.

"Thanks, Vin," the blond lifted the cup and sipped at the black liquid, enjoying the flavor and the warmth it generated.

"Got somethin' else for ya too," the tracker held out his hand with two Tylenol number threes in it. He stood waiting for the stubborn man to give into the need for them.

Larabee looked at his friend questioningly, ready to refuse the medication, yet this man knew him and could see through his tough exterior. The determination in the blue eyes made him smile as he reached for the pills and the glass of water. He took the pills and watched as the sharpshooter hurried back to the kitchen counter.

"Eat up, Cowboy," Tanner said as he placed the plate in front of the blond.

Chris looked at the plate, his mouth watering as he looked at the food that could rival any of the fancy restaurants he'd ever eaten in. Laying in the center of a bed of Rice Pilaf was a perfectly golden brown breast of chicken, on one side were snow peas and yellow beans in a buttery sauce. Chris lifted his knife and fork and cut into the breast, smiling as the delicious sauce ran into the rice.

Vin smiled as he watched Chris eat the meal he placed before him. The look of satisfaction on the blond's face made him smile as he ate his own dinner. Cooking was something he enjoyed doing and he made many meals for his friends in spite of the razzing he usually received about how it turned out. The only thing he'd never been able to handle was cooking on the BBQ and he was only too pleased when Sanchez took over that area. He remembered the steaks he and Buck burnt at the last get together at his own ranch. The char broiled offering was unfit to eat and they ended up throwing on hot dogs to eat with the delicacies supplied by Ezra Standish. The conman groaned at how they were all savages eating sautéed mushrooms, peppers, and onions with hotdogs.

"Penny for your thoughts, Cowboy," Larabee said softly.

"Huh?"

"You were a mile away. I figure you were thinking pretty hard and I'd better stop you before you fried the circuits for good."

"Funny," Tanner smiled as he returned his attention back to the meal.

"Well, what were you thinking so hard about?"

"Just thinking of the day Buck and me decided to BBQ..."

"Don't call that fiasco a BBQ, Tanner. That was more like burnt offerings..."

"Well, hell, Pard, that's a good way to get me to stop..."

"Barbecuing? That's a good thing, but, Vin," Larabee grew serious as the younger man looked towards him.

"What?" Tanner asked, trying to look insulted.

"Don't ever give up cooking this kind of meal. Hell, Tanner, I swear you'd put those chefs in the restaurants Maude takes Ezra to to shame. This is one of your best." He smiled as a hint of red came to the shy Texan's face.

"Thanks, Chris, with those kind of compliments you might even get dessert..."

"Oh, what are we having?"

"Just chocolate pudding and fresh cream," Tanner explained.

"As long as it's not...

"Shimmering Shit!" Tanner finished and the two men laughed. The remainder of the meal was silent as the two men thought about how close they'd come to losing the friendship they harbored. At the end of the meal, Chris stood up to help load the dishwasher, handing Tanner the dirty dishes so he could pack them in properly. Once the kitchen was cleaned to their satisfaction they went into the living room and settled in to watch the baseball game.

Chris felt his eyelids growing heavy and let them slide closed. He listened to the game, content in the knowledge that they were all home now. His eyes snapped open as a hand touched his shoulder.

"Wh...what?" he asked tiredly.

"Sorry, Pard, didn't mean to startled you. Come on and I'll help you to your room."

"What about the game?" Larabee asked through a yawn.

"Game's over, Mets won."

"Damn, must be getting..."

"Old!"

"Shut up, Tanner," the blond hissed, but smiled in spite of the tone of his voice. He reached for the crutches and made his way to his bedroom. He walked through the door and over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and leaning the crutches on the nightstand.

"Need any help?"

"You really are looking to get shot, aren't you?"

"Can't, your gun is locked in the case. Goodnight, Cowboy."

"Goodnight, Vin, and thanks...for everything."

"Anytime, Chris," the sharpshooter vowed as he eased the door closed and left the blond alone. He looked in half an hour later and shook his head.

The lamp was still on, but turned down low. Chris was lying on his left side on the bed, a pillow between his legs, his hands under his head, not a stitch of clothes on his body. The blankets were kicked down around his knees, and tangled in his feet.

Tanner moved forward, not embarrassed at seeing his friend's nudeness. He lifted the blankets up over him and turned out the lamp, smiling as Larabee snuggled into the depths of the warmth the coverings provided. He walked out the door and into his own room, again feeling a sense that they were destined to meet, all seven of them.

+ + + + + + +

Chris had been back at work for two weeks and things were going well for him. Physio continued to aggravate the hip, but the crutches were gone and in their place was a cane. He sat in his office, reading the updated files from his men. It was late in the evening and most of the other offices were closed, but they were trying to get everything cleared up for a trip the seven of them would take the following week. One that would put the final closure on the past two months or so. He smiled as he heard the others laughing in the outer office and felt at ease, knowing he was well and truly back where he belonged.

"Hey, Chris, we're going on a coffee run. You want to come?"

"Not right now, Vin, but you could bring me back one."

"What size?"

Chris looked at the pile of files on the desk and smiled as he looked back at his friend.

"Extra large!"

"Hmm, from the looks of those files, maybe a jumbo would be better!"

Larabee returned the smile. "Yeah, you might be right."

"Back in a few, Cowboy," the tracker said.

"Yeah...bring me a blueberry muffin while you're at it!"

"Butter?"

"Yeah, and have them warm it up for me."

"You got it."

"Hey, Vin you coming?" Dunne called from the outer office.

"Hell, yeah!" the tracker said, and hurried to join the others.

Chris had no idea how much time passed, but a sudden movement in the far corner of his office caught his attention. 'What the hell?' he thought and stood up from his chair. Nausea instantly caught hold of his stomach as a wave of sickening dread threatened to floor him.

Chris knew what was going on and tried to fight it. Flashback after flashback struck him and he placed his hands on the desktop, sucking in air faster than he thought possible. He tried to concentrate, but the room began to spin and he needed air.

"God! NO!" he screamed as the movement in the corner caught his attention once more. His body shook as he lunged towards the door, his eyes glued to the undulating mass. He moved out the door and heard the quivering gelatinous blob moving with him. He looked from desk to desk, his body trembling as he searched for someone to help him. The chairs were empty and his tenuous hold on reality was quickly slipping from his grasp.

More of the spider like creatures were in the room with him and he raced past one of the desks, grabbing pens, papers, anything he could throw at whatever was following him. Out into the hallway he turned glazed green eyes towards the elevators, only to find the creatures were there as well. He looked for another avenue of escape and spotted the stairs.

"Gotta get away...gotta get away!" he repeated as he raced for the door and shoved it open. His eyes widened in shock as he spotted a man standing a few steps below the landing he was on.

"Hello, Chris, you can save them by jumping!"

"NO! Jesus, you're dead!" he screamed as he raced up the stairs, away from the man he'd known as Marcus Whelan. He reached the door leading onto the roof as everything around him disappeared. Reality and fantasy mixed in a jumble of unrelenting motion as he moved out into the cool air. He walked to the edge, the breeze cooling the hot sweat beading on his forehead. Terror shone in the glassy green eyes as he teetered on the edge of the roof.

The wind seemed to pick up momentum as Chris Larabee began the slow circuit around the edge of the rooftop. There was no fear in him now, just a soft white melancholy mood and the need to feel the wind in his face. He mumbled unintelligible words as he stretched his arms out to the side for balance. The lights from the other buildings shone in his eyes and he squinted as the structures seemed to shift with the breeze. He closed his eyes as a heady, carefree sense of calm washed over him, and he sucked deeply at the clean air.

Part 58

Six men walked off the elevator, laughing and talking. They'd stayed at the coffee shop longer than expected and the growing darkness reminded them how late they were working to make up for lost time. Wilmington was the first to enter the dimly lit room.

"Hey, Pard, coffee's on!" the ladies man shouted as they entered the office. "Chris!" he called dropping the tray of coffee on the nearest desk and running into the blond's office.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Jackson called, but didn't wait for an explanation as his eyes raked over the items strewn around the desks. "Is he in there?"

"No! Shit! What the hell happened?" the ladies man swore.

"We need to find Mr. Larabee, post haste!" Standish said as a tingling sensation ran down his spine.

"No shit, Ez!" the scoundrel hissed. "Where the hell is Vin?"

"I'm out here, Buck!" the tracker called from the hallway.

"Did you find anything?" Sanchez asked from the doorway.

"No, but..." Vin began.

"I think..." from Ezra.

"He's..." from JD.

"On..." from Buck.

"The..." from Nathan.

"Roof!" the sentence was finished by Josiah.

Six men raced for the stairwell, knowing they'd be able to beat the elevator up the three flights. Vin was in the lead, Buck right on his heels, the others so close behind they could feel the breath on their necks. The sharpshooter swore as he saw the open door to the roof and knew he had to be cautious. They knew there was something wrong, but also realized it had nothing to do with criminals.

Vin eased out onto the roof, searching the shadows, hoping for a glimpse of the man they most wanted to see. The fact that there were no sirens told him the blond hadn't jumped, but something drove him to search the edge of the roof. What he saw caused his heart to skip a beat and his voice to die in his throat. He tried to move, but his legs felt leaden as a hand fell on his shoulder. He looked into the worried brown eyes of the medic.

"Wait!"

"What?" the sharpshooter asked through clenched teeth as the others piled out on the roof.

"Don't startle him!" the medic warned. "Buck, you stay put too!" he snarled as the ladies man tried to move past him.

"What do we do, Mr. Jackson?" Standish asked, listening to Larabee's mumbling voice at the edge of the roof.

"We need to stay calm and talk him down," the medic told them.

"Are you thinking this is a flashback?" Sanchez asked.

"Yeah, and he's gonna need us to remain calm and get him down before he falls," Jackson explained.

"Alright, Brother, just tell us how we do this," the ex-preacher whispered.

"We need to get close to him and get him talking to us...make him see that we're not gonna hurt him. I don't know what he's seeing right now or what he's thinking, but it could be anything. We walk slowly towards the roof and for God's sake don't make any threatening moves!"

"Vin, you'd better do the talking," Wilmington said, knowing if anyone could get through to the blond it was the longhaired Texan standing beside him. He trusted Vin Tanner, and was proving it by handing him the fate of his own long time friend.

"Thanks, Buck," the sharpshooter said as he stepped closer to his friend.

"Just talk him down!" Dunne said and smiled as the others turned towards him.

Vin moved closer to the edge of the roof, keeping his eyes on the back of his best friend. He swallowed the fear the image gave him and spoke softly.

"Hey, Cowboy."

Chris stood on the edge, his arms held out straight at his sides, his body swaying with the breeze. The lights from the buildings were too bright and he squinted into the distance. The tiny lights seemed to burst into balls of flame that shot towards him and he smiled at the warmth he imagined he felt from them. He tilted his head to the side as a soft voice called to him.

"So beauti...ful," the blond sighed as his voice drifted on the breeze.

"What's beautiful, Chris?" the tracker asked.

"Pret...ty lights...look like fire...works...so pretty."

"Why don't you come down from there and we'll go see the fireworks?" Tanner asked softly.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm gonna fly down there..." the blond laughed and began to lean further out.

Tanner forced himself to remain calm, knowing the others were feeling the same fears he was.

"No, please, Chris, just come down here and talk to me...to us."

The blond turned slightly and spotted six figures standing in the bright spotlight from the top of the lighted pole on the roof.

"Can't talk right now." Larabee hissed, his eyes glazed over, his mouth not quite forming a complete smile. "Gotta trip to make!"

The grin on his face was dreamy, and Vin knew they were dangerously close to losing their friend and leader.

"Chris...Cowboy, listen to me..."

The sandy blond eyebrows drew together and Larabee's face grew angry. "Thought I was listening to you!" he hissed, turning back to the view below him. "Not gonna listen anymore."

Tanner became desperate as the others moved forward, closing the distance with the edge of the roof. He knew he had to keep calm and make sure he kept the blond talking. He held up his hands to the others and made a last ditch effort to save his friend.

"Chris, you want some company?"

Larabee turned and looked at the Texan, confusion in his eyes as he spoke. "You can fly too, Vin?"

"Course I can, but I'd like for us to go together."

"What about the others?"

"They won't try to stop us."

"You sure? They look like they will."

Vin smiled as he spoke, his eyes staying firmly on the man teetering on the brink of a fatal fall.

"You boys won't try to stop us, will you?" he asked.

"Vin, you sure you know what you're doing?" Jackson asked worriedly.

"Yeah...yeah, I do, Nate."

"Okay." The medic looked towards the blond and smiled thinly. "We won't do anything, Chris."

"Neither will the rest of us," Sanchez assured the blond.

"See, Cowboy, it's just me and you. Can I come up there with you?"

"Sure...gonna be a wonderful trip, Vin."

"I think so too, Chris," the tracker said as he slowly moved forward. He finally stood just below the raised ledge, his fear growing as he caught sight of the bright glassy eyes.

"You coming up, Vin, ain't got all night!"

"Can you gimme a hand up? Arm's still not what it should be."

"Sure," Larabee said and turned his body completely towards the sharpshooter. His foot caught in the ledge and he felt himself teeter on the edge.

Vin watched as Larabee slowly turned towards him, a scream ripped from his throat as he watched the darkly clad form stagger and begin to fall. He saw the head strike the edge of the brick and he reached for the falling body. His cry of pain and rage was echoed from the five men racing towards him, but he couldn't take his eyes from the flailing arms of his friend. Lightning fast reflexes grabbed for the lean man and clamped onto his collar.

"Sweet Jesus!" Sanchez hissed as he made it to the ledge.

"Somebody fucking help me!" the tracker cried as he heard the seam on Larabee's shirt ripping.

"I got him, Vin!" Wilmington said, as he reached over the edge and grabbed the blond by the arm. He saw Sanchez grab the opposite arm and the Texan reach for a firmer grasp.

The three men pulled the limp body over the ledge and eased him down on the rooftop. Blood flowed from a gash above the right eye, just under the hairline. Jackson moved in and began examining the unconscious man.

"Josiah, call for an ambulance! JD go get the first aid kit from the office!" the medic ordered.

"Right away, Nathan," the kid said as Sanchez began speaking into the phone.

"I need something to stop the..."

"Will this suffice?" Standish asked, holding out an immaculately pressed handkerchief.

"Thanks, Ez," the medic said as he wiped at the blood flowing down the right side of Larabee's face.

"Ambulance is on the way, Nathan!" Sanchez said, holding the phone as he continued to give information to the 911 operator.

"Thanks, Josiah," Jackson said.

"I'll go make sure the paramedics have a clear path up here," the gambler said, racing for the stairwell, before anyone could say anything.

"Okay, Ez," the medic said and looked at the man kneeling on the opposite side of The Firm's leader. "Vin?"

The sharpshooter was reliving the last few minutes in living color, only instead of grabbing onto the blond's collar he grabbed thin air. Over and over he watched as Larabee dropped from sight, the only sound his own desperate cry for help.

"Vin!"

"Huh?" Tanner shook his head and finally looked at the medic.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, fear apparent in the two softly spoken words. "How is he?"

"Don't know," Jackson answered honestly. "He's got a nasty head wound, but I can't find anything else wrong with him."

"I got it, Nathan," Dunne said as he hurried across the open roof.

"Thanks, JD," Jackson said. He grabbed the kit and opened it, grabbing a pressure bandage from the well stocked interior. He opened the sealed package and replaced Standish' blood covered handkerchief. The skin around the wound was already swollen and discolored. The medic began to worry that there could be more damage than what the naked eye could see.

Time seemed to stand still as the four men watched Jackson do what he could to help the injured man. There was a collective sigh of relief as the conman raced in with two paramedics and a fully loaded stretcher.

"Hi, Frank," Sanchez greeted the long time paramedic.

"Hello, Josiah," Frank said, kneeling by the unconscious man. "Ezra said Chris hit his head."

"That's right," Jackson explained.

"Want to tell me how?" he asked as his partner began taking vitals.

"It's a long story, Frank," Jackson said. "Let's just say he struck his head when he fell against the ledge during an LSD flashback."

"Alright," Frank agreed, as he examined the patient.

"Has he been awake at all?" Bill, the second paramedic asked.

"No," Wilmington answered.

"How long ago did this happen?" Frank looked into the injured man's eyes, noting the reaction of both pupils.

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago," Jackson answered as Bill started an IV in the blond's right hand.

Vin watched as the older paramedic placed a cervical collar around Larabee's neck while Bill finished with the IV. Next they moved him onto a backboard, strapped the injured man on it, and then transferred him to the gurney.

"Alright, we'll see you guys at Saint Vincents, " Frank said.

"I'm coming with you!" Tanner said, following the stretcher through the door, the other five men close on his heels.

Vin watched as Larabee was wheeled into an examination room, then he leaned heavily against the wall next to the door. He knew Midland would do everything to make sure Larabee was okay, but the flashback episodes had him worried. There was no way of knowing if they'd come over him again, and this one had scared them all with its possible tragic ending. The tracker knew in his heart Chris Larabee would be fine, but he would need to talk to Susan James about what happened to him.

Part 59

Inside the room, Stacey Midland checked her patient's pupils and the wound on his head. She knew he'd need stitches to close it up, but they needed to get a CT scan and x-rays to make sure there were no underlying problems. A soft moan from the man on the bed told her the patient was on the verge of waking up. She watched as the nurses hooked him up to the monitors beside the bed, waiting as the eyes flicked below the lids and finally opened.

"Hello, Chris," she said softly, knowing he'd be suffering one hell of a headache.

His eyes finally focused on the woman standing over him, but they slammed shut as the light sent sharp needles of pain through his skull.

"Jesus!" he swore and tried to sit up, but the straps across his body prevented him from doing so.

"Just lie still, Chris. You're in the hospital and you'll be just fine," Midland explained.

"Doc...hell...hap...pened?"

"What do you remember, Chris?" Midland asked.

Larabee kept his eyes closed as he felt a nurse checking his IV line. He tried to reach for the memories, for anything that would explain why he was in the hospital and why his head felt like it was about to explode. He remembered being in the office and Vin coming in.

"Working...Guys went for coffee," he said and groaned as the pain intensified.

"Alright, Chris, that's enough for now. I'm going to send you for a CT scan and x-rays," the doctor explained. "You just relax until everything is done."

"Go...home..."

"I think we'll keep you tonight, and if the tests come back okay then you can go home tomorrow."

Chris wanted to protest, but he was already drifting back into unconsciousness as the doctor left the room.

Stacey pushed open the door and smiled at the man standing just to the right of the room.

"Hello, Vin," she greeted.

"Doc, how is he?"

"Here come the rest of the stormtroopers," Midland smiled as five haggard looking men came through the automatic doors. "Why don't we go into the waiting room?"

The six men followed her into the waiting room, surprised to find seats together in the usually crowded area. She smiled at the six faces, knowing how close they were to each other.

"How's he doing, Doc?" Jackson asked.

"Chris was awake for a few minutes, but didn't know what happened. That's normal with head injuries, and flashback episodes."

"So what do we do, Doc?" Wilmington asked.

"Well, I've ordered a CT scan of his head, and also want to get x-rays of his hip. Vin, you said he hit the ledge pretty hard."

"Yes, Ma'am," the sharpshooter told her.

"I want to make sure none of the recent injuries were aggravated by the impact. I'll come see you as soon as I know anything else."

"Thanks, Doc," Sanchez said as they stood up.

Stacey smiled at the six worried faces. These men were gentlemen, but she just couldn't get used to men standing up just because she did.

"Oh," she said, looking at each of Larabee's friends. "I've also called Susan James. She'll see him tomorrow morning."

"Does that mean he's staying overnight?" Dunne asked.

"I've already told him he'll be spending at least tonight here for observation. We'll know more after the test and x-rays."

"Can we see him?" Vin asked.

"After he's back from CT I'll send one of the nurses to get you."

"Thanks, Doc," the men said and sank back for what they knew would be a long night.

+ + + + + + + ~`

Chris kept his eyes closed as the orderly returned him to the examination room. He'd come to during the CT scan and instantly vomited everything that was in his stomach. They cleaned him and the stretcher up and managed to complete the test, before sending him back to his room.

By the time he was settled back in his bed he was sure his head had exploded. Every time he opened his eyes he was met with a dazzling display of fireworks. He kept his right hand over his eyes, carefully avoiding the new stitches and the bandage covering the head wound. A soft touch on his shoulder startled him and he opened his eyes.

"Hey, Cowboy."

"V...Vin?"

"Yeah, I won't ask how you're feeling..."

"No, don't...I might tell you," Larabee warned.

"Chris."

Larabee turned his head, groaning as the fireworks started again. Once more he placed his hands over his eyes and waited for the pain to subside. He could hear his friend and the doctor talking, but couldn't understand their words as wave after wave of nausea hit him. He felt something enter his system and almost immediately the nausea and pain receded and he forced his eyes to open. The first thing he noticed was that someone had lowered the lights and the usual explosion of fireworks was no longer present. He knew who was responsible and turned to face the woman standing on his left.

"Thanks, Doc," he mumbled, painfully aware of the worried tracker on his right.

"You're welcome, Chris. Now I want you to relax while they get your room ready upstairs."

"Damn, thought I was done with this."

"Done with what?" Tanner asked.

"Hospitals."

"Well, hopefully this'll just be overnight," Midland explained.

"Hopefully?" Larabee asked.

"That's right. It depends on what the CT scan and x-rays show. Now you try to rest and I'll be back as soon as we have the results, or your room is ready."

Chris watched the woman leave and finally turned his gaze on his best friend. The blue eyes were filled with worry and rimmed with dark circles. Larabee knew his friends were worried about him, but he didn't know why and wouldn't until his memory returned. He took a deep breath and mumbled softly.

"Damn, Cowboy, hope I don't look as bad as you do right now!"

Tanner's eyebrows rose and he smiled thinly at his friend.

"Actually, Chris..."

"Don't say it!"

"I was just gonna say..."

"Vin," Larabee winced, but returned the tracker's smile, before growing serious again.

"What's wrong?" the younger man asked.

"Vin, what happened?"

"Chris..."

"Look, I know the doc wants me to remember on my own, but my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton and I can't think straight. Just tell me what the hell I did this time!"

"You tripped and struck your head..."

"Tripped...was I drinking?" Larabee asked, his eyes filled with doubt.

"No...you weren't drinking, Chris," Tanner assured his friend. "Look, get some sleep right now and we'll talk about what happened tomorrow."

"I'm not tired, Vin." The injured man yawned in spite of his declaration.

"Go to sleep, Chris, this can wait."

"Guess it'll have to, can't seem to stay awake anyway," the blond said and let his eyes close.

Vin looked up to see Buck Wilmington standing in the doorway. He knew the others had already left, but would be back first thing in the morning. Vin walked to the door and accepted a cup of coffee from the other man.

"How is he?" the ladies man asked worriedly.

"No change...still can't remember anything."

"Well, hell, Vin, maybe that's a good thing. I hate the idea of him reliving the things that happened to him."

"He's got to know, Buck. I mean, maybe if we know what happened just before the flashback, we might have a way of knowing when one is coming on."

"I doubt that, Vin. From what I've been reading there's no set signal. It just happens anywhere at anytime. The best thing we can do is what we did on the roof. Talk to him calmly and let him know we're there for him."

"Yeah, but what if he's alone, Buck? What if this happens and..."

"We can't put him in a glass bottle, Vin, anymore than we could you or me or any of the guys. The flashbacks could happen again, but what's on Chris' side is that he wasn't subjected to the drug for a long period of time. We can be pretty sure the flashback episodes will stop once everything's settled down."

"I hope to hell you're right, Buck. I hate thinking what this is gonna do to him."

"It's not gonna do anything to him, Vin. We won't let it!" the ladies' man vowed as an orderly and a nurse came towards the room.

"Excuse me, Buck, Vin, we're going to move Chris upstairs now," Melinda explained as she stepped into the room and placed a thick chart on the foot of Larabee's bed.

Melinda and the orderly began readying Larabee for the trip upstairs. They unhooked the IV from the pole and hung it on the one attached to the stretcher, before pushing it out into the now busy waiting area. The patient slept through the move from the ER to his room on the third floor. Once he was settled into the bed the nurse on the floor came in to take vitals and make sure everything was okay.

Chris felt someone at his left arm and tried to pull away.

"I'm just checking your blood pressure, Mr. Larabee," Karen Mackenzie explained to the confused eyes that now looked at her.

"Wh...what?" he asked as he slowly looked around the room.

"I'm just taking your blood pressure and then I'll let you go back to sleep. How do you feel?"

"Head hurts," he answered tiredly, his right hand coming up to touch the bandage covering the wound.

"You've had a severe blow to the head and you don't need to touch that, Mr. Larabee," the nurse warned and eased his arm back on the bed. She finished taking his vitals and turned out the light.

"What t...time is it?" he asked tiredly.

Karen looked at her watch and answered softly. "3:15. Now, there are two worried men waiting to see you. I'll let them in for five minutes and that's it. You need your rest!"

"...okay..." He pushed the button on the rail and raised his head until he was in a semi reclining position. He heard footsteps coming towards him, stopping on either side of the bed.

"Hi, Chris, how're you feeling?" the ladies man asked as Larabee turned from one man to the other.

"I'd be better if you two would stand on the same side. Head's bad e...enough with...out hav...ing to turn it."

"No problem," the tracker said as he joined the scoundrel on the right side of the bed. "How's That?"

"Better...I think...but seeing two Bucks and two Vins is making me queasy."

"Well, then we'll just leave and let you get some rest," Wilmington told him.

"We'll see you in the morning, Cowboy," Tanner told him.

"Yeah...thanks, guys...just so damn t...tired."

They stood for a few minutes, watching over the injured man until they were sure he was sleeping. They made their way to the door and eased it closed behind them, missing the soft moans coming from the sleeping man.

Part 60

Melinda woke her patient every couple of hours, making sure he was okay and sympathizing with the injured man. Each time she woke him he'd ask where he was, and what happened, and she knew the head injury was making him dizzy. She smiled as she remembered the proud man arguing over using the urinal or making the short trip to the washroom. She'd finally acquiesced and let him try it with an orderly's help. He managed four steps when his legs gave out and would've fallen if not for the other man's quick reflexes. Between her and the orderly they put him back to bed and he begrudgingly admitted she was right.

Melinda walked into the room with Stacey Midland just before she was to go off shift and they examined the patient while he slept. The doctor was worried about the continued confusion, but knew it was too early to tell if there was permanent damage.

"Keep the IV going and the morphine for pain. If his stomach is still bothering him give him Zofran IV."

"Yes, Doctor," Melinda said.

"Dr. James should be in to see him later this morning, but if Chris wakes up and needs to talk to her before then just call her office."

"I'll note it on his chart," Melinda told her as they left the sleeping man alone once more.

It was several hours later when Chris slowly fought his way through the thick layer of confusion and became aware of his surroundings once more. Unlike the other times he woke up, his memories were clear. Sadness hit him as he remembered the onset of the flashback. The gelatinous blobs were everywhere he looked, yet he understood they were not real. They were a result of his mind sending him back into the nightmares he had when Maguire held him in the chamber and forced the drugged water down his throat. Most of the hallucinations were buried deep in his subconscious, but some of them returned and when they did he was sent into a new world. One that terrified him, because he had no way of knowing what would happen next.

The injured man turned onto his left side as nausea and pain slammed into him. The memories alone were bad enough, but to know that this could happen again was something he didn't want to face. He grabbed for the nearby basin and spit out the acidic bile that burned its way up in his throat.

"God..." he hissed as each new memory showed like a movie behind his closed lids, reminding him how helpless he was when the flashbacks happened. He held the palms of both hands against his head, groaning as his body trembled under the thin blankets. With each flash of the movie, the pain intensified until he cried out, an agonizing wail for help that fell on an empty room. His body shook and he released his head long enough to pull the blanket tighter around himself, hoping to alleviate the chill seeping into his bones. He had no idea how long he lay awake, fighting off the fatigue that came with the pain.

Vin Tanner pushed open the door and quietly walked inside, his eyes going to the form curled under the blanket. He knew instantly something was wrong and he rushed to the bed. He didn't want to startle the trembling man, and gently placed his hand on his shoulder, feeling the body jump at the light touch.

"Chris?"

The shivering man heard the voice and felt the touch, but didn't acknowledge it. He lay on his side, his eyes closed, his hands fisted in the blankets, His knees drawn up to his waist. His head still felt ready to explode, and he wondered if it would ever stop.

"Hey, Cowboy, wanna tell me what's wrong?" the tracker asked softly, a lump in his throat as he watched his friend trying to control his fears.

"I can't..."

"Sure you can, Chris," Tanner looked towards the door at the soft knock and was pleased to see Susan James enter. "Hi, Doc," he said softly.

"Hello, Vin," she said as she walked the short distance to the bed. "Hello, Chris."

Larabee hated anyone seeing him as he was at that moment and he kept his eyes closed.

"Go away!" he told them both.

"What's wrong, Chris?" the doctor asked.

"Come on, Cowboy, talk to me," the tracker said when the blond remained quiet except for the soft moan that issued once in a while.

"Chris, do you need something for pain?" James asked, concerned that her patient was slipping into a deeper depression than he'd been in while in Washoe. She held the chart in her hands with the report from Dr. Lee Carlyle. The psychiatrist noted that her patient suffered a mild case of PTSD, if anyone could suffer from a mild case. She knew more about Chris Larabee than the doctors in Washoe and right now she knew he was trying to hide his pain from his friends. Trying to keep them from seeing just how much he was suffering. Oh, he was trembling and seemed frightened right now, but she knew better. He wasn't frightened, at least not of anything physical. The fear ran deeper than that and she knew he remembered the events that put him back in the hospital.

"Chris, I know you feel like you want to be left alone, but it will help to talk about what happened to you," the psychiatrist explained.

"Didn't help before," the blond told her, still not looking at the two people in the room with him.

"Chris, never known you to be a coward," the tracker said, knowing how the blond felt about the word.

Larabee turned on the bed and sent a heated gaze towards his friend. His chest heaved as he drew air into his lungs and faced the two people he knew would not leave him alone.

"I'm not a coward, Vin, but..." he stopped as tears filled his eyes.

"But you remember what happened, don't you?" the long haired man asked, his hand once more resting on his best friend's shoulder.

Larabee couldn't talk past the raging nausea and pain, but he knew Tanner could read the truth in the worried blue depths. He closed his eyes and tried to turn away, but the strong hand on his arm refused to let him. He knew this man would lend him the strength he needed to get through it all. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath as the blue orbs never wavered form his own green ones. This was it, he knew he couldn't hide behind his fears, and needed to tell them how he felt. His throat was suddenly dryer than the Black Rock Desert, his tongue felt swollen in his mouth and his breathing grew raspy.

"Easy, Cowboy, just relax and look at me," the sharpshooter soothed, his hand massaging circles on the trembling man's shoulders. "That's it, now let's just take this one step at a time. Doc James is here and you don't have to do this alone. Okay?"

"...okay...gimme...sec..."

"Take as much time as you need, Chris," James said as she filled up a glass from the pitcher of ice water on the table. She put a lid on it and placed a straw through the hole before holding it out to her patient.

Larabee lifted a trembling hand and took the glass. He sipped from the straw and forced a small, weak smile to his face as he placed it back on the table.

"Wh...where do I start?" he asked softly, a slight tremor in his voice as he looked at the two people.

"Wherever you feel like, Chris. I've got all the time in the world," the psychiatrist assured him. She smiled as the younger man pulled up a chair for her. "Thank you, Vin."

"Welcome," he said and looked at his friend. "You want me to stay?"

Larabee's answer was a simple nod and he sighed as Tanner pulled up another chair. The room was silent, the seconds dragging into minutes, until Chris picked up the water once more. He knew the doctor and the tracker were watching, waiting for him to speak. He finished the glass of water and placed it back on the table. He knew he couldn't put it off any longer and he began speaking, his voice weak to his own ears.

"I remember Vin coming into my office and asking if I wanted to go out for coffee. They were all going, but I kept seeing the files on my desk and I wanted to get rid of them. Told Vin to bring me back one..."

"A jumbo," the tracker said softly.

"Yeah, figured I'd be there all night and would need something to keep me on track. Wish the hell I'd gone with you boys...maybe none of this would have happened."

"Should've made you come..."

Larabee laughed as he met the tracker's sorrow filled gaze. His own eyebrows arched and he shook his head at the guilt he saw there.

"You really think you could've made me come with you, Vin? You're not to blame for what happened on the roof, none of us are. I'm a grown man and I knew what I was doing, so wipe that look off your face or I'm not going any further."

Tanner knew Larabee was right, but he couldn't help feeling things might've been different if he'd tried to convince the blond to go.

"Vin, Chris is right. There is nothing to feel guilty about. You are not your..."

"Brother's keeper," Larabee finished,his voice filled with emotions as he watched the shaggy head nod.

"Thanks," the sharpshooter said softly.

"What happened after the others left, Chris?" James asked.

Chris lowered his eyes and took a deep breath before resuming his tale. "I started working on the files, but kept seeing something out of the corner of my eye. At first I didn't know what it was, and when I'd look there was nothing there. Everything started to feel weird..."

"Weird, how?" James asked when her patient grew quiet once more.

"I don't know...just felt like nothing was real and yet it was. I knew what I was seeing wasn't there, but it scared the crap out of me. I started throwing things at it and ran like a sc...scared...kid," the blond explained, reaching for the glass of water once more.

James and Tanner remained silent, knowing Larabee had to do it at his own pace. They watched as he replaced the cup, his hand trembling as he placed it back in the circle of moisture on the table.

"There were more of the damn things in the outer office...looked like a fucking party of spiders...Jesus, I hate those things. They blocked the elevator and I ran to the s...stairs...H...he was there, Vin...That son of a bitch was there and I knew he couldn't be." The green eyes stared straight at the blue ones, neither man speaking for a few seconds.

"Who?"

Chris looked into his best friend's eyes and knew what he was about to say would probably add to Tanner's guilt, but he had to get the story out. He knew he had to talk about everything and the fact that the man who tortured him before was part of the new nightmare could not be forgotten. Taking a deep breath he clenched his fists and looked away.

"Whelan..." The reaction was instantaneous as the young tracker's eyes dropped and his breathing intensified.

"Fuck!" he swore, standing up and pacing the room. His hands fisting and un-fisting as the tension grew in the lean body.

"Bastard's still haunting you..."

"No, Vin, he's not!" Larabee exclaimed. "I knew he was dead and I screamed the fact at him. There's no way he could've hurt you...me ...or anyone else."

"That's right, Chris, he couldn't," James agreed.

Chris watched the tracker as he continued to pace and waited until he finally sat down. The blond knew the body was far from calm as the hands continued to clench and unclench at the sharpshooter's sides.

"Are you okay, Vin?" the patient asked.

"Y...yeah, I'm fine," the soft voice drawled. "Go on, Chris."

The blond nodded and looked down at his own hands. "I knew what was happening couldn't be real! That it was all part of whatever was happening in my head, but I ran anyway. Before I knew what was happening I was on the roof and I swear I felt like I could fly!" He looked up at the two people in the room with him as tears glistened in his eyes.

"I don't remember walking to the edge of the roof, but I remember looking down and thinking I could make this trip...all I needed to do was spread my arms and let go...just step out and fly....free..."

James shook her head as Tanner started to speak. She wanted to let Larabee tell it at his own pace, without feeling as if he was being forced to do so. It was important that he talk it out, knowing that they were there for support if needed.

"Jesus, it was like my brain was split in two parts. One side knew this couldn't happen, the other insisting that it could...I was there...staring down...wanting so much for it to be true...and I couldn't fight it any more...but I heard your voice," he said meeting the trackers gaze once again. "Heard you tell me you'd go with me...knew you were there to help and...and I was turning to get down...but I tripped, Vin...it wasn't that I was jumping!" Tears were flowing freely now as he tried to make them believe him. "I really wasn't. I mean I knew you wouldn't let me jump, Vin, even if I thought I was Superman or anyone like that who could fly...I remember thinking the boys are back and I need that coffee...and...and turning to see all of you...and my foot catching in that edge...and I thought...I don't want to do this...but all of a sudden it seemed like I had no choice. The last thing I remember was thinking I must've hit the ground head first because I was sure it exploded!"

"You hit your head on the edge when you fell," the tracker explained.

"Then why am I here and not in the morgue? How did you stop me from falling?" the blond asked seriously.

"We caught you..."

"We? Meaning you?"

"I caught you, but it took us all to pull you back over the ledge...Thought you were gone, Chris..."

"I thought so too, but you know what?"

"What?"

"Somehow I knew you guys would find a way. Just like I knew you'd find me in that damn chamber. Even when Maguire forced the drugged water on me and the fucking hallucinations began...the spiders, the other things..."

"What other things, Chris?" James asked, knowing it was important for him to talk it all through.

Larabee met her eyes and knew she could see there was more to the story. He reached for the glass again and sipped at the cold water. He looked at the clock and realized nearly an hour had passed since he began talking and the pounding in his skull was growing worse.

"You have to finish it, Cowboy," the tracker rasped.

"I know...it's just hard to talk about," the blond told them and took another deep breath. "I saw all kinds of things I knew couldn't be there...snakes...big fucking insects...people I k...killed...my Dad and Mom the day I had to identify them," his voice broke with emotions as he remembered the animated bloodied, twisted bodies of his parents coming towards him, cursing him for not being there for them.

"Knew it wasn't real, but it sure felt like it...I remember thinking anything is better than this and next thing I knew I was standing over six bodies w...with a blood stained knife in my hands. It felt like my hand belonged to someone else and it kept stabbing and stabbing,...and blood was splattering the walls...and running down the blade...I couldn't see very much because it was in my eyes and the smell was nauseating a...and I knew what I was d...doing...but I couldn't stop."

Chris released the pain of the memories in one choking gasp, his stomach churning once more as daggers stabbed at his skull. His hands clasped his head and he vomited the contents of his stomach, until nothing remained. His body shook and he lay back against the bed. He didn't hear the nurse come in and inject medication into his IV, but he soon felt a lessening of the agony and the nausea and drifted towards sleep.

"Well?" Tanner asked as James closed the file in her lap.

"He's talked about what happened, Vin, and that's good. We knew about Maguire and what he did to Chris, but we didn't know how the drugs affected him or what they did to him. He talked about the hallucinations and hopefully that'll also help him. What he's gonna need now is support and that's where all of you are gonna come in. He's gonna need to know that although this could happen again he can't live his life in fear. He has to be able to function as he always has...with that confidence that he can do whatever he did before this. There's no way of knowing whether he'll have more flashbacks. LSD is unpredictable and they can occur for years after the actual use of the drug."

"Jesus Christ!" Tanner swore as he paced the room once more.

"Vin, that's not gonna help him. He needs you to be strong for him, not losing it because of your anger."

"How the hell do I help him live with the fact that this could happen again?" the tracker asked angrily.

"By doing what you always do...Support him...be there for him...but don't try to coddle him, because that'll just make matters worse. The one thing I've learned about Chris is that he's an independent man and likes to do things on his own. If he thought you and the others were trying to put him in a..."

"Glass bottle...

"He'd run as far away from here as he could. Not out of fear of you guys, but out of a fear of losing who he is. My advice is that once Stacey releases him you try and put your lives back the way they were. Again there will be changes, but for the most part, pick up where you left off and go from there."

"You mean go back to the ghost town...to Four Corners?"

"It might help all of you deal with it."

Tanner stood beside the bed and looked down at the now sleeping man. Memories of the last month or so were still vivid and he wondered if going back to the place it all started really was such a good idea. Would it help Chris if they went back, or would it be too hard for him.

"I don't know, Doc."

"Why don't you talk about it with the others and see if it's something you want to do. It doesn't have to be right away. Actually I'd rather you wait a month or so, just to make sure he's up to the trip, but I really think it will do all of you a world of good."

"I'll talk to the guys and see what they say," Tanner told her.

"Make sure you include Chris in those talks. He needs to know that you trust him to make decisions like this."

"Hell, Doc, I'd trust Chris Larabee with my life! We all would!" the tracker said forcefully.

The psychiatrist smiled at the younger man as she looked from one man to the other. "I know, Vin, and he feels the same way about you guys. That's what makes the seven of you so unique. I don't think I've ever seen seven men respect and care for each other the way all of you do. It doesn't happen very often, especially with a group of men as diverse as your group. It's something I'm glad I've been able to witness."

"Thanks, Doc, these guys are family, especially..."

"Chris."

"Yeah."

"I'm sure he feels the same way. I've got a few other patients to check on, but I'll let his nurse know where I am if he needs to talk."

"Okay, thanks, Doc."

"Nothing to thank me for, Vin. Chris did all the work today," the psychiatrist assured him as she walked to the door.

"Doc."

"Yes, Vin."

"When will he be released?"

"That's up to Stacey, Vin."

"What about you...does he need to see you or take any medications again?"

"No...I don't think so. He's talked through what happened. I'm leaving him my number and a recommendation that he come talk to me if he starts feeling down again, but otherwise I think he's got all the support he needs."

"Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome. Try not to worry to much, especially in front of Chris. If he sees any doubts from you guys it's going to effect his own performance. Be positive, but let him talk if he needs too."

"We will."

"You know my door is always open if any of you need to talk, Vin, and I don't mean only as a doctor. I've known all of you for quite some time now, and I think you know you can trust me."

"We do, Doc," the tracker told her, sitting in the chair by Larabee's bed once more.

"Good," she said with a smile. "I'll see you later."

Vin nodded as the door closed before looking at his friend once more. He knew that Anne Sheridan would be arriving in approximately two weeks and he hoped things worked out between her and Chris. The man deserved some happiness for a change. He watched as Larabee turned onto his side, but didn't wake up. He stayed beside his friend, knowing the others were back at work and would check in with him later in the day. His mind slowly wondered back over his conversation with the psychiatrist, and he began to think the idea really did have merit. Maybe it was time to face what happened there and put it all in the past where it belonged. All he had to do was convince his friends the idea held merit. For now, he would sit and watch over the sleeping blond.

Part 61

Chris woke up feeling better than he had in a long time. He knew the flashbacks could come again, but he wasn't going to live his life as a prisoner to them. Talking about the hallucinations and the pain the memories brought had done him a world of good and he opened his eyes. He smiled as he spotted the tracker seated beside the bed. Vin's head lay on his arms which in turn rested on the bed beside him. Chris tried not to move as he listened to the soft snores emanating from the exhausted man. His head snapped up and he placed his finger to his mouth as the other five men entered the room.

"What's wrong with Vin?" JD asked softly.

"Nothing, he's sleeping," Larabee whispered.

"Sleeping beauty was supposed to be watching you, not the other way around," Buck said, the grin on his face showing he wasn't serious.

"I guess it all caught up with him," the blond answered.

"While I'm sure Mr. Tanner would not appreciate being likened to the female lead in Sleeping Beauty, I think it is an apt description," Standish offered.

"Chris, any chance you'd shoot them for me?" Tanner asked, lifting his head and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Can't, don't have a gun," Larabee told him.

"Damn!" the tracker winced.

"How do you feel, Sleep..."

"Say it, Bucklin, and I swear you'll be singing soprano for a month!"

"Only a month, Brother?" Sanchez asked.

"Figure that's as long as we could put up with his so called singing," the sharpshooter said with a smile.

"Hey, what's wrong with my voice?" the ladies man asked indignantly.

"Nothing if you're a horny Tom cat! Dunne answered.

"Mr. Dunne, I'd advise you to run!" Standish warned of the look on Buck's face.

"Hell, Kid, you're gonna get horny Tom cat!" Wilmington said and chased the kid around the small area between the bed and the bathroom.

Chris watched the game between Buck and JD, knowing it was done for his benefit. He couldn't help laughing as the Buck grabbed the kid's baseball cap and slapped him with it.

"What's the matter, Buck, can't handle the truth?" Dunne asked.

"Oh, Kid, you'll pay for that one."

"You couldn't catch a cold if you were naked in a snowstorm, old man!" Dunne said as he pulled open the door and raced out of the room, Wilmington close on his heels.

"Those two should get a job at a comedy club," Sanchez said as the door closed behind the two men.

"Yeah, they'd be better than most of the acts that have played there lately," Jackson agreed before turning back to the injured man. "How are you feeling, Chris?"

"I'm better, Nathan. Susan was here and...well we talked...actually I talked and Susan and Vin listened. I told them everything and yes I remember what happened when you guys left to get the coffee," he saw their faces pale as he spoke and he smiled at each man.

"Still haven't had the damn coffee." He was pleased to hear the soft laughter his words elicited.

"Mr. Larabee, I shall endeavor to bring you the finest coffee..."

"From that secret place you won't tell us about, Ez?"

"Of course," he leaned close to the blond's ear and whispered. "A man does have to keep certain things private."

Chris smiled knowingly. He figured out long ago that the coffee was Ezra's own special brew, ground at his home and brewed to his own specifications. Chris could not remember ever tasting a finer coffee.

"So when can you deliver, Ez?" he asked.

"When do you want it?" the conman asked.

"As soon as I get out of here."

"That sounds like a plan. Do you know how long you'll be gracing the interior of these four walls?" Standish asked.

"Doctor Midland is supposed to come by this afternoon and let me know for sure, but I was supposed to stay just one night," Larabee explained as Wilmington and Dunne returned.

"Well, the doc is out at the nurses desk and I do believe she's coming this way...can't resist the pull of my animal magnetism," Wilmington said with a grin.

"Actually, Buck, she's right behind you," Jackson said.

"Buck, there are shots that will get rid of that odor," Midland said, smiling at the look of disbelief on the scoundrel's face.

"Oh, where do we sign him up?" Dunne asked and received a swat on the shoulder.

"Shut up, Kid!" Wilmington hissed and turned back to the doctor. "Ah, hell, Doc, the things I could teach you."

"You might be surprised, Stud," Midland said, smiling at the slight blush on the scoundrel's face, something she knew rarely, if ever happened.

"Whoa, Doc, you did it...You rendered Buck speechless!" Jackson laughed along with the others, until even Buck joined in.

"Damn, Doc, you got me!"

"That she did, Bucklin," Tanner agreed.

"She's got your number, Buck," Sanchez said.

"Yeah, she does, and I wish she'd use it," The ladies man whispered huskily, smiling as his comment brought a flush to Midland's face.

"Dream on, Buck," the woman said.

"Oh, I will, Doc, believe me," Wilmington said and heard the groans from his friends.

"Good, because that's all you'll have," the doctor assured him, and turned to her patient as Wilmington tried to come up with a quick come back.

"Now, Chris, how're you feeling?"

"Great," Larabee answered as she checked his eyes.

"Truth?" Midland said, knowing by his eyes that he was still in pain.

"Still have a headache, but it's not as bad as it was."

"Alright, how's the stomach?"

"Okay."

"Okay?" Midland asked.

"Still a little queasy, but again not as bad as it was."

"Well, that's good news. I talked with Susan and we're in agreement that you can go home..."

"Hooyah!" The blond shouted, regretting the move immediately as the sound reverberated through his skull.

"Maybe I should keep you an..."

"N...no, Doc, I'm fine, really I am...well," he said sheepishly. "I am as long as I remember not to shout."

"Well..."

"Ah, Hell, doc, have pity on him," Tanner said.

Midland smiled at the seven men, knowing Chris would probably get better care with these guys watching over him than he would in the hospital.

"I'll make a deal with you."

"What kind of deal?" Larabee asked softly.

"Well, if you promise to come back if there are any problems..."

"I will..."

"Let me finish. Plus you need to have someone stay with you for a couple of days. You've had a serious blow to the head and I don't want you alone."

"Mr. Larabee, if you stay with me I could guarantee you lots of coffee."

"Stay at your place, Ez?" Larabee asked.

"That's correct. This way you're close to the hospital and the office. I've got that spare room and you're more than welcome to use it."

"Hell, Chris, Ezra's got that heart shaped Jacuzzi too," Wilmington smiled as he looked towards the doctor.

"I think I'd better be going," Midland remarked. "Chris, I'll sign the discharge papers and fill out a prescription..."

"No need, Doc, he's still got the ones left from Washoe," Jackson told her.

"You'll never change, will you?" Midland asked as she walked towards the door. 'None of you will,' she thought as she heard Chris trying to sit up.

"You might as well stay put until I send the nurse in to remove the IV, Chris," she ordered.

"So, Mr. Larabee, are you going to grace my humble abode..."

"Humble abode...Jesus, Ezra, there's nothing humble about your abode!" Tanner said of the two bedroom penthouse apartment the conman lived in. The luxurious suite was located on the upscale side of town and most people couldn't afford the rent.

"You sure you don't mind, Ez?" Larabee asked.

"Not at all," the gambler assured him.

"Looks like you've got yourself a houseguest for a couple of days," Larabee told him.

"Well, if one of you will escort our illustrious leader, I shall go home and prepare his room."

"I'll drive him to your place, Ezra," Sanchez said.

"Thanks, Josiah," Larabee said gratefully.

Two hours later Chris was dressed in the familiar black jeans, Nikes, and charcoal grey t-shirt. The others had left except for Sanchez and Tanner. The nurse was waiting with the wheelchair and the injured man gratefully sank into it. By the time they arrived at Ezra's apartment Jackson was there with Larabee's painkillers and the blond took them with very little argument.

The gambler pulled back the white down comforter and blue satin sheets as Jackson led the blond into the room.

"Chris, do you need any help?"

"No thanks, Nathan, I can get undressed on my own," Larabee said, his face pale and his eyes clouded with pain.

"Mr. Larabee...Chris, if there's anything you need just call," Standish said.

"I will," the blond said and waited for the two men to leave. He slowly pulled the clothes from his body, carefully avoiding the bandage on his head. The only thing he didn't remove were the soft boxers, covered in tiny pistols, Wilmington had bought him as a joke for his birthday the year before. The ladies' man would've been shocked that the blond found them so comfortable. Chris lay back on the bed and pulled the blankets up over himself, sighing contentedly as the soft satin enveloped his aching body. 'No one can fault your tastes, Ez,' he thought.

Ezra closed the door as Jackson and Tanner left. He assured them that he could handle the blond and would call them if any problems came up. He locked the door and walked back to the bedroom his guest occupied. He looked in and smiled at the tuft of blond hair sticking out from under the comforter. 'Sleep well, Chris,' he thought, switching off the light and bathing the room in comforting darkness. He left the door open in case his friend needed anything during the night.

Chris opened his eyes, and winced at the early morning light streaming in through the partially open drapes. He frowned as he tried to remember where he was, then smiled at the cool satin sheets enfolding his body. He shifted on the bed and his head touched the soft pillow, sending a shockwave of pain through his skull. He waited for the mind numbing agony to ease and opened his eyes once more.

"Chris, here, take these."

Larabee focused on the man standing beside the bed and smiled weakly at him. He slowly sat up, swinging his legs over the edge and placing his head in his hands. He felt a hand on his shoulder and finally met the gambler's concerned gaze. He accepted the offered medication and the glass of water, grateful to the younger man for knowing they were needed.

"Thanks, Ez," the blond said as the glass was taken from his hands.

"Why don't you lie back down, Chris?" the gambler asked.

"I will, but I could use one of your special coffees," Larabee said hopefully.

"Are you sure?"

"Y...yeah."

"Well, you just relax and I'll bring you a cup..."

"Tired of lying down, Ez. Rather sit up for a while."

Standish smiled at the pale man. Knowing how Larabee hate being down, and being tended to, he helped him stand up and wrap one of his own spare bathrobes around him.

Chris fingered the finely tailored robe and shook his head, wincing slightly as they walked towards the outer room. "Ez, my compliments to your tailor."

"Andre does do a wonderful job, doesn't he?" he asked as he helped Larabee sit in the brown Italian leather recliner.

"Yeah," the blond said, closing his eyes to ward of the building nausea.

"You relax and I'll bring you that coffee. Would you like some breakfast?"

"I don't know, Ez, don't think my stomach can handle very much right now."

"Well then I will make you something light. It shouldn't take long."

"Okay," the blond said as he pressed the button and lay back against the soft leather. He smiled as he felt Standish place a thin blanket over him before going into the kitchen. The strong pain medication began to take hold of his throbbing head and he felt himself drifting towards sleep. He relaxed as his mind conjured up the image of a beautiful auburn haired woman who would soon be close enough for him to touch. He remembered how soft her hands were when she massaged his temples and shoulders. The delicious sensations her lips sent through him when they brushed against his. The wonderful scent he'd come to associate with Anne Sheridan.

"Chris."

The blond opened his eyes and reached for the cup in Standish's hand. He sipped at the aromatic brew, relishing the flavor as it burned its way soothingly down his throat. He looked gratefully at the gambler and smiled.

"Ez, thanks..."

Standish' eyebrows drew together as he looked at his leader and friend.

"For what, Chris?"

"For letting me stay here last night, for being a good friend. Not only last night, but ever since I've known you. I know we've had our differences, but you need to know I trust you with my life, Ezra...and you've proven you can be trusted over and over again. You're as much a part of my family as the rest of this team and I'm proud to call all of you friends...brothers."

The gambler was at a loss for words, never had Chris spoken so openly about how he felt about any of them. He knew it was probably the accumulative shock of the last six weeks, plus this new injury, flashbacks, and pain medication, but it was something he was proud to have heard.

"Thanks, Chris, I'll try not to let you down."

"You never have, Ez," Larabee knew they needed to lighten the mood a little and he smiled at the younger man. "Now, what about that offer of breakfast?"

"Coming right up, Mr. Larabee!" Standish said, the soft smile belying the formality of the title.

Chris watched him move back into the kitchen and smiled as he thought about his team, his family. Each man was special to him in his own way. They had the ability to break down self imposed restraints and see who a person really was. The blond could list numerous times when one of them had been able to lift him from the depression he'd been in, and for that he would always be grateful. He knew he'd done the same for the others, but to have them care this much for him was far beyond anything he expected. He sipped at the coffee, enjoying how it warmed him from the inside out.

Ezra watched the blond relaxing in the chair and was pleased to see some color returning to the handsome face. Chris had been through hell, and might have more flashbacks, but he would never have to face any of it alone. He had friends who cared what happened to him, and they'd be there for him. Larabee was a man who valued his friends, but sometimes didn't realize how much his friends valued him.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ez."

"Huh...Pardon me...sorry, Chris," the conman stammered as he continued into the room with the whole wheat toast.

"Nothing to apologize for," the blond assured him. "You just looked miles away."

"I probably was."

"I bet..."

"Ah, yes...bet....seems to me you owe me..."

"Ah, hell, Ez, I was kind've hoping you forgot about that."

"Oh, Chris, a wager is something I never forget and I do believe you..."

"Damn!" Larabee interrupted with a grin. "You know that was one bet I didn't mind losing, but I think the wager should've been different."

"Yes, well, the beautiful Miss Sheridan will be here in a week, right?"

"She sure will," the blond said wistfully.

"Mr. Larabee...Chris, I do hope things work out for the two of you."

"We're going to give it a try, Ezra. There'll be times when she has to travel and we won't see each other for a couple of months, but..."

"I can just imagine the reunions," the conman said and was pleased to see the look on Larabee's face.

"Ezra!" the injured man choked.

"Is there a problem with the coffee, Chris?"

"N...no...just never expected you to say something like that."

"I try to keep you on your toes, Chris," the gambler told him.

"Yeah, I've noticed that a lot lately."

"Eat your breakfast, Chris," the gambler said.

"You going in to work today?"

"I wasn't planning on it," the conman explained.

"I'm okay, Ezra, you don't need to stay with me."

Standish knew Larabee hated disrupting the lives of his friends, yet he wasn't sure Chris should be alone right now. Before leaving the previous night, Nathan explained how important it was to let Chris know they trusted him. That if he really wanted to be alone, then they needed to do that, to let him build up his confidence once more.

"Are you sure, Chris?"

"Hell, Ezra, the office has got to be more exciting than sitting here watching me sleep. That's about all I'm going to do. I'm gonna eat this toast and head back to bed."

"Alright, Chris. I've left a small container of Nettie's homemade chicken soup in the refrigerator. Just warm..."

"Ez, I can take care of myself!" Larabee said, his voice edgy as he glared at the conman.

"I know you can...just call the office if you need anything."

"I will. Now go!" the blond ordered.

"There's more coffee in..."

"Ezra!"

"Sorry," the gambler said. "I'm going."

Chris watched the other man scurry around the apartment, smiling at the way the gambler would stop and gaze at him every few minutes. He watched him reach for the handle of the door and hesitate before turning back towards him.

"Don't make me get my gun, Standish!" he warned.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. You know where everything is, right?"

"Yep, and I can even manage the potty by myself," Larabee said with a grin.

"Your medication is in the..."

"Ezra, just go. If I don't know where something is, I'll search for it. If I can't find it, I'll call. Okay?"

"Okay," the conman said. He opened the door and reluctantly walked out of the apartment.

Chris watched the door close and let his body relax into the chair once more. His head was pounding again and he knew he needed to get back into the bed. He placed the half finished cup of coffee on the side table and pushed himself out of the chair. He stumbled into the bedroom and climbed on top of the bed. Removing the bathrobe he lay back on the satin sheets and bit back a groan as the pain continued unabated. He pulled up the blankets, his lean body trembling beneath them until he fell into a sound sleep.

Part 62

Ezra pushed the door open and peered into the bedroom. He'd been at the office for a little over three hours and in spite of Larabee's assurance that he could handle things on his own, he needed to be sure. A tuft of blond hair peeked out over the top of the satin sheets, the lean body was curled on the left side, legs bent at the knee. The conman crept closer and was amazed at how vulnerable the sleeping man looked. He stood for a few minutes, wondering why he was given the gift of this man's friendship and trust.

"If you're gonna keep checking on me you might as well stay and make a fresh pot of coffee."

"I thought you were sleeping."

"Was, but I'm never that asleep that I don't hear people coming into the room. Knew it was you as soon as you put the keys in the lock. Gotta work on your silent entry, Ez."

"I shall endeavor to improve my performance, Mr. Larabee."

Chris smiled, sat up in the bed, and frowned at the look on the gambler's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Well, I was thinking it is a good thing Ms. Sheridan is not here to see you at this moment."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Let's just say your hair is not having a good day, and well, those stitches on your head give you the appearance of a boxer who went ten rounds and lost."

"Damn, that bad?" Larabee asked, with a cocky grin.

"Nothing a little R&R wouldn't solve."

"R&R, Jesus, Ezra, that's all I've been doing."

"Mr. Larabee, surely you don't consider the last few weeks, R&R?"

"Well, if you take out Maguire, the LSD flashbacks, the concussions, the hip...Alright, so it hasn't been the normal rest and relaxation, but you have to admit I've spent a hell of a lot of time in bed."

"Yes, and Buck would say it was a shameful waste of down time. Has he ever used a bed for sleeping?"

"I doubt it, Ez. Buck seems to think the bed is a place for..."

"Erotic seduction," Standish finished.

"That's one way of putting it. I'm gonna grab a shower."

"A shower is a good thing, Mr. Larabee..."

"You saying I stink?"

"Since you don't have access to your gun...ah...yes, I am," the conman smiled mischievously as he grabbed fresh linen for his boss. "You'll find everything you need in the cabinet beside the..."

"I'll find it, Ez."

Standish nodded and walked out of the room, leaving the blond to look after himself.

Chris smiled at the concern the younger man showed. Standish often used formality to hide his feelings, yet the six men he worked with knew him for what he was. A man who cared for his friends and would do anything he could to help them. He'd proved that time and again in the time Larabee had known him. Chris headed for the shower, content that the younger man was there to watch his back.

+ + + + + + +

A week passed and Chris Larabee was finally healing. The stitches had been removed from the head wound and he stood at the gate, waiting for Anne Sheridan to disembark from her flight from Washoe. She loved the pictures he sent of the apartments in Wilmington's building and would be moving in within the next few days. The boys were going to help them paint and make sure everything was ready for her. Chris was going to take her shopping the next day in order to pick out carpeting and paint. It was something he was actually looking forward to. He remembered shopping for those items with Sarah and how much fun they had going through the different shades of each color. He loved her smile when he started teasing her about the colors, and telling her their bedroom should be hot pink to match the color of her cheeks.

"Chris!"

Larabee shook off the warm thoughts and smiled as he heard the familiar voice calling his name. "Anne!"

The throng of moving bodies seemed to disappear as the two people caught sight of each other.

Anne felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of the man she'd grown to care about. He was dressed in black jeans, dark blue, button up shirt, and cowboy boots. The smile on his face was all she needed to know he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him.

Chris couldn't help but smile as the woman smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. He walked towards her and wrapped her in a tight embrace, their bodies saying what words could never express. He gazed into soft brown eyes and melted into her warm arms, their lips touched and it didn't matter who was around them, nothing mattered, but the here and now. Two people, enjoying the precious gift they'd been given. Now was their time, all they had to do was escape the crowded airport and make the short journey to his ranch. He knew the others would leave them alone for the night, and that was something he was grateful for.

Anne pulled away, unaware of the rosy hue on her face, the simple blush that no makeup could ever capture.

"God, I've missed you, Chris," she declared, her head resting against his shoulder.

Larabee held her close, feeling her heart beating in her chest, the warmth of her body conjuring up images he didn't want to have in this place. He eased away from her, but held onto her hands.

"I missed you too, Anne, and I want to show you how much, but not here, not like this. Let's get your bags and go back to my ranch."

"Oh, God, yes," she whispered against the lean chest.

+ + + + + + +

The drive to the ranch seemed to take forever as the two people fought the growing feelings encompassing their bodies and minds. They parked in front of Larabee's home and climbed silently from the truck. Chris reached for the bags, but his hands were captured and held tightly. Their lips met in the silence of nature and he guided her towards his home, a place he hoped to share with her someday, but for now he would be content with the time they were given. He unlocked the front door and pushed it open, pulling her inside and dropping the keys on the floor as he kicked the door shut. He led her through the living room and straight for his bedroom, ignoring everything but each other and the desire to make love.

'God, I feel like a lustful teenager,' Chris thought.

"Oh, Chris, I need you...I need you now!" Anne whispered as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his back.

Chris winced as his still weak hip protested her light weight and felt her tear away from him.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," the nurse said worriedly. She reached down to touch the old injury, but was stopped by Larabee's finger under her chin.

"Don't be, Anne, I want this as much as you do..."

"But your hip..."

"It's fine, just have to remember it's there, but it won't stop me...us." He lifted her into his arms and led her towards the bed, laying her on her back in the center. His hands gently removed the last of her clothing until she lay naked atop the bed, her tanned skin a quiet contrast against the midnight black comforter. He sucked in a deep breath as her body called out to his own, sending heated signals that could only be picked up by someone who was in tune with another.

Anne knelt in the center of the bed and reached for the lean body, her slender fingers reaching for the buttons on the shirt. Slowly, methodically she opened the soft material, her hands running over the taut chest, tweaking at the nipples and laughing as he leaned forward and nipped at her ear.

"God, you're gorgeous," she whispered.

Chris laughed softly, "I don't remember anyone saying that to me," he whispered as their lips met and ignited the fires of wanton desire in them both.

"God, Chris, I want you so much," her voice was husky with passion.

"Are you sure about this, Anne?"

"Don't you dare ask me that now, Chris. God, I want you so bad it hurts."

"And I want you, Anne," he whispered against her ear.

+ + + + + + +

"Oh, wow, Chris, that was wonderful," Anne said as she lay sated against the pillows.

"Hell yeah!" Larabee agreed as he pulled her into his arms. "There's nothing more I'd rather do than make love to you over and over again, but first we need to bring in your bags and Ezra sent us a bottle of Remy Martin and a fresh pasta and crab salad."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful...and we do need to keep our energy level up. Do you think you can handle it?" she asked coyly and grinned as she looked at him.

"Do you even have to ask?" he smiled as he captured her lips once more and decided the luggage and dinner could wait a little longer.

+ + + + + + +

Four Corners-2002

Over the next couple of months Chris healed with the help of his friends and the woman he continued to have feelings for. His romance with Anne Sheridan lifted his spirits and helped him face the long weeks of therapy on his hip. There were no more flashbacks and things were returning to normal in the world of the seven men who formed the organization known as The Firm. He was due back at work, on active duty, in one week. Now, with the help of six men he was facing the town where it all started.

Chris and Vin rode slightly ahead of the others as the small town grew in the distance. The buildings stood out against the backdrop of puffy white clouds and blue sky. The sun was hot, but Chris felt a chill run down his spine as they closed the distance on horseback. The men decided it would be best if they faced everything the same way Chris and Vin had, bringing the experience back into focus.

Vin took a sideways glance at his riding companion. He knew the sweat on the blond's forehead had more to do with where they were going than the heat of the day. His own shoulder felt the ghostly ache from the healed wounds and he knew Larabee's body must be doing the same thing to him. He turned back to the ghost town, his mind on the ordeal that started here.

Chris knew Vin had been staring at him, but couldn't meet his friend's gaze. This was something he needed to do, yet he dreaded not knowing how he'd react once they reached the buildings. They kept a steady pace and soon pulled the horses to a stop in front of the old livery. Chris dismounted and turned to see the other five men laying back, giving him and Vin a chance to face this on their own. Chris shook his head as he realized they needed to be together for this.

"Come on, Boys, you're as much a part of what happened as Vin and I are. Something tells me we're all gonna have to be together for this to work," Larabee told them. He watched the remaining five men dismount and move to join him and Vin. He felt whole and knew these men were the reason for that, they truly were his family. He smiled as he led them into Four Corners, knowing there was nothing here to hurt any of them.

Nothing moved in the streets as the seven men strode towards the old newspaper building. Soft whispers of a town long since dead rose up to meet them, but there was nothing ominous in the sounds. The town itself had once been a part of their ancestors and somehow they felt as if they'd come home again. They could never live in Four Corners, but they felt as if their lives had started here.

Chris stopped in front of the newspaper office and felt a shudder run through him as images of his last visit to this town overwhelmed his resolve to stay in control. His eyes slammed shut as he watched the bullets slam into Vin Tanner's body. The bright red fluid flowing from the wounds to his head and shoulder. He gasped for air as a hand landed on his arm. He knew the others were there, but the startling memories were filled with pain and remorse as he heard the words again. Words that would forever burn in his mind, worse than any mortal wound could ever do to his body.

'Tanner's dead...Tanner's dead...Tanner's dead,' the words were a silent mantra that only he heard, words that stabbed at his mind, gaining momentum as he stood on shaky legs. His eyes shot open and the images were before him. Chris knew they were not real, and he also realized this was not a flashback, but his mind trying to deal with what he thought was the violent death of his best friend. The buildings grew hazy as he fought against the onslaught of remembered pain and fear. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until soft, panicked voices cut through the fog enshrouding his mind once more.

"Come on, Cowboy, breathe," Tanner insisted as they lowered the trembling man to the ground.

"Chris look at me!" Jackson ordered, knowing they needed to get Larabee focused on something other than the memories.

"I...I'm okay, just g...gimme a sec...ond," the blond told them as he looked from one worried face to another. He smiled sheepishly as he finally got his mind and body under control again.

"You alright?" Wilmington asked worriedly.

"Y...yeah. Susan warned me this might happen. She said it had to do with my mind working overtime to put everything in the past where it belonged. At least that's what it sounded like," he assured them, accepting the bottle of water from Josiah Sanchez. Nodding his thanks, Chris drank half the bottle and just sat where he was for a few minutes longer. He smiled as Standish offered his hand and accepted it, grateful for the help in standing on his own two feet.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," JD said softly.

"I'm okay, Kid," Larabee said. "Just caught me off guard for a few seconds."

"What happened?" Tanner asked, meeting Larabee's troubled gaze.

"This was where you were shot, Vin. I just wasn't expecting to relive it in living color. While you were unconscious Maguire had Winston check to see if you...if you were alive. I heard his words over and over in my head."

"What words, Chris?" Sanchez asked knowing they needed to finish this here and now.

"He said 'Tanner's dead' and I thought you were, Vin. So help me I really thought you were dead!" Larabee hissed as the younger man placed a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"It'll take more than Winston's words to make it real, Chris. I'm here as living proof that he lied."

"Thank God," the blond hissed and turned to the circle of friends. "For all of you." He said and took another drink from the cold water. "Okay, what say we take a tour of this little burg and see what it's really like?"

"You sure you're up to it, Chris?" Jackson asked.

"Yes, Nathan, I am. Where do we start?"

Laughter rang out in the abandoned town as seven men said one word at exactly the same time.

"Saloon!"

For the next three hours the seven men toured Four Corners, feeling as if they were actually there when the town was ripe and new. Hearing the echoes of gunshots and the clash of metal on metal.

Chris frowned as he looked at Wilmington. The two remembered something that couldn't have happened to them, yet was a part of their shared past, dating back over a hundred years. There'd been some kind of sword fight and Buck Wilmington fought for the life of a damsel in distress. He was injured in that skirmish, yet had indeed seen justice done and the woman safe. Buck Wilmington was now, and always would be a ladies man, a scoundrel and a rescuer of damsels in distress.

Jackson stood in front of the livery, his eyes glued to the ruined upper floor, and felt a shiver race down his spine. Somehow he knew this was where his ancestor had worked to save the lives of not only the six peacekeepers, but the people of the town as well. He felt the others watching him and turned tear filled eyes on his friends. He didn't need to speak to know they understood what he was feeling as they gathered around him. This was a part of him, who he was, always had been, and always would be.

Josiah stopped in front of the old church and knelt before it. This was a place he was familiar with. A haven from ill winds and broken spirits. A place of joy and light and Josiah knew in spite of the disrepair this was still a place of worship. He said a silent prayer for those who lived their in the past and those who would visit in the future. He added a simple prayer of thanks for the gift of the seven, their number as spiritual as their minds, whether they knew it or not.

Standish stood outside the saloon and knew his ancestor played many a game of chance within the four walls. A smile formed on his face as he thought once more of the deck of cards and the missing ace of spades. Without a doubt that particular deck of cards were in the hands of their rightful owner. He sighed as he moved on with the others, checking the sites where their great, great grandfathers once lived.

They found the remnants of an old wagon, little remained to identify it as such, but somehow they knew it belonged to Vin Tanner. The tracker had always been fascinated by such things and he bent to touch what could only have been the rim of a wheel. He smiled as an image of his buckskin clad ancestor formed before his eyes. This had indeed belonged to his relative, and he smiled at the idea that he'd actually seen the man.

JD stood before the jail, his mind being given insight into his own past, and what it was to be a greenhorn amongst six giants. For that was how he saw the men he worked with, not so much in height but in stature and abilities. No one could solve a case the way the seven of them did when they worked together. Chris was a powerful leader whose skills with a gun and a glare were well established amongst his peers. Vin was a tracker and sharpshooter, the best at both and again well renowned for those skills. Ezra could hack into the toughest computer systems, and no one could best him at bluffing, which made him handy in undercover assignments. Nathan was a fully trained medic who saved their lives more often than he cared to remember, and was also an able bodied man to have watching your back when on assignment. Josiah was always there as well, delving into the criminal mind, and lending a spiritual essence that often saw them through the toughest times. Buck, well, he was a man who loved the ladies and had a heart of gold. He was an expert in the field of explosives and was often called in to help the police bomb squad. Each man had other skills, but what made them all work so well together was a mystery to JD Dunne. He knew this jail was a part of his past and his right hand touched his chest as if a star was still clipped there. He turned and frowned sheepishly as six men clapped their hands. He shook his head, knowing they felt just as strongly about him, both past and present.

"Come on, Kid!" Wilmington said as the others walked towards the outskirts of town.

"Ain't no kid, Buck!" the youngest member of the team hissed as he followed the others.

"You're the youngest, that makes you the kid!" the scoundrel said.

JD could see his friend was teasing and didn't mean the words to hurt him. Sometimes being the youngest was hard, but right now he felt as if he had six big brothers looking after him, and for now that was fine with him.

They walked outside of town and followed a narrow path through overgrown scrub and brush. Chris was in the lead and pushed aside a thick layering of tumbleweed and wildflowers. A small graveyard lay before them and he stepped into the clearing. His eyes were drawn to an area at the back of the cemetery and he made his way towards it. He felt the others walking beside him and they stopped in front of seven crosses. There were no names marked on them, but he knew who was buried there, and a part of him was saddened at the loss of the unknown men.

Josiah looked at the graves and at the six men with him and knew they were all feeling the same deep sense of loss he felt. He said a prayer over the graves and saw the gratitude on the faces of his friends. He knew in his heart these men had lived long happy lives, but there was nothing he could do to prove that to the others. He smiled as he realized his words were not needed as each man knew the truth about their past. They were family, always had been, and always would be, for many generations to come.

Seven men stood on the landing of a clinic used often by one of their members. They watched as their descendants mounted up and prepared to leave Four Corners. This would be their final glimpse of the great, great grandsons they'd learned so much about. They knew Maguire's linage was indeed over, yet Chris Larabee, Vin Tanner, Buck Wilmington, Josiah Sanchez, Ezra Standish, Nathan Jackson and JD Dunne would face many more challenges over their long lives. Challenges that would threaten to tear them apart, but like their counterparts in the Old West, they would never let that happen.

The seven Firm members made it to the edge of town and turned their horses. As the sun began its downward journey their eyes came to rest on the top floor of the old livery. Seven shadowy images brightened for a brief second until they faded with the dwindling rays of the sun.

Larabee smiled as the final image dressed totally in black faded and winked out. 'Thanks, grandfather,' he thought as the seven rode away from the past and into the future that belonged to them. One that promised to be a hard fight, but one they would win none the less, because they had the strength of generations of seven behind them and the promise of future generations to come. Fate and destiny had been met with courage and strength and The Firm had its team back where it belonged...whole and strong once more!

END