Headlines by Chya Warning: Depiction of canon character death.

Mary Travis sat at her desk in her office, attempting to compose the headline and front page story for tomorrow's edition. She had put pen to paper several times already but given up each time, as the words did not seem to say what she wanted them to.

She felt guilty for taking the seven men that protected Four Corners for granted. She knew that almost every other resident of the little town felt just as bad, but she could not help taking the burden of guilt on to her own shoulders.

When exactly was it that she had stopped worrying about them? When exactly was it that she started assuming that they would come back from chasing down the criminal of the day alive? When was it that she started expecting them to put their lives on the line?

They had often gotten wounded, for sure, but Mr Jackson always seemed to be able to put them back together, and they'd be back in the saloon within a day or two as if nothing had happened.

But this time was different. This time they had not all come back alright. They had come back in pieces.

They had chased after a gang that had held up the bank, killing the clerk. There should be danger money incorporated into a bank-clerks wages, thought Mary wryly. There was nothing unusual with this gang, there was nothing different about the way the seven chased after the gang.

Maybe that was it. Maybe the seven themselves had become too lackadaisical. Maybe they deserved what happened to bring them back to reality. Remind themselves and the people that they protected that they were not invulnerable, not gods, not immortal.

Mary thought back to yesterday afternoon. JD had been the first back, alone but triumphant. He had told the story, that the gang had split up, and that they had split up after them. He and Buck had gone after a couple, then they in turn had been parted.

JD was proud. He had caught his man by himself, and could not wait to tell the others, particularly Chris and Buck.. He led the second horse with the bank robber slung over it's back, to the jail, The grin across his face was wider than a cat's with cream. She thought of that innocent young man now, sitting in the saloon, shocked and distraught. To go from such a high to such a low within hours had knocked the boy for six. Particularly as he was the only one to have returned unscathed.

Vin and Ezra arrived not long after, virtually holding each other up. They reported their quarry as well and truly dead before attempting to dismount. Ezra fell off his horse gracelessly, landing in an insensible heap, while Vin managed to swing himself down, but his legs refused to hold him up once he reached the ground.

Mary called some of the townspeople to help her move them into the saloon. They set up an emergency sick room for them, and Mary tended them as best she could, praying that Nathan would arrive soon to fix them up. JD's face had turned white when he saw his friends bloody bodies, and Mary had had to shake him out of it to help her.

Josiah arrived two hours later. He was leading two of the gang on their horses. They were both shot up pretty bad, but so was Josiah, blood masking half his face, and one arm. He was able to hand his baggage over to JD, and tie his horse off, before he staggered into the saloon.

It was another hour or so before Nathan came in. He was alone, and slumped over his horse, unconscious with a serious head wound. Josiah and the barkeep got him down, and into the saloon.

It was only then, seeing Mr Jackson unconscious and unable to do anything, that it occurred to Mary that maybe things were not going to be as all right as she had assumed.

Ezra had been shot in the stomach, and Vin had taken bullets to the shoulder, side and leg. She had stanched the flow of blood, but she was no doctor. With Nathan down, she asked JD to go to the telegraph office and get the doctor at Eagle Bend to come over.

Even as the young man disappeared out the door, she knew it would be a day or so before the doctor would arrive.

Now that the realisation had hit her, she began to fear for Chris. Buck too, of course. But if anything should have happened to Mr Larabee?

She spent the hours caring for the wounded as best she could, until Josiah bullied her into resting. Even then, she could only lie down, worry keeping any thought of sleep from her. Darkness had fallen, and still the final two members had not arrived. Mary knew that the more time that passed, the less their chances of survival were.

It was almost dawn when five horses walked into town. Two carried dead bodies, and the other three riders were hunched forward. Mary prayed as she ran out into the street with Josiah and JD that Chris would be among them, alive and well.

They could not see until the riders were close, and when they could, Mary could not help but cry with relief as Chris dismounted in front of the jail, though her heart leapt in her throat, as he limped and stumbled his way to the other horses. He let down the other two riders, handing them over to JD, then, with Josiah's help, took the two bodies over to the undertaker.

Something fell out of the blanket that wrapped the body Chris was trying to carry. A hat Mary recognised. Buck's hat. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she suddenly felt flushed with guilt; she had been so happy that Chris was alive, that she had not given Buck a second thought.

Chris and Josiah came back out from the undertaker's and headed straight for the saloon. She did not know if Josiah had informed him of the others' conditions, but from the cold, dead look in the gunslinger's eyes, she assumed he had, and feared for his sanity.

Later that morning, the doctor at Eagle Bend sent a telegram saying that he was on his way, but would not be arriving for another day.

The townspeople had rallied round their protectors, but now Mary could not help but think it was too little, too late.

Mary thought about how she had seen the 'Magnificent Seven' last, not an hour before.

There was an obvious absence without Buck there to hassle the ladies and tell bawdy jokes. JD sat at a table, staring into space with old, unseeing eyes, his innocence lost with his mentor's death. Chris sat opposite, wearing bloody bandages on his legs and shoulder, drinking whiskey constantly, and staring at the table top with cold, dead eyes.

Josiah was constantly fussing over everyone, trying to be cheerful. It did not need a mind reader to look at his face and know that all hope, all faith had left him.

Nathan was awake, now, and his injury seemed to be fine, except that he did not know where he was, who he was, who anyone else was. He seemed to be reliving his time as slave in a delirium. A particularly bad time, as was evidenced by his terror at anyone passing near.

Vin slipped in and out of consciousness, and Mary was quite hopeful that he might make it. Nothing vital had been hit that she could see, but he had lost a lot of blood, yet if she could keep infection out, there was hope.

Ezra, however, was well on the road to joining Buck, and she had only been able to make him comfortable until the end. He had passed away without regaining consciousness.

Sitting at her desk in her office, Mary still did not know what tomorrow's headlines would be.

END