Setting: Old West
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
NOTE: The language Vin uses in this section is Shoshoni. The Comanches were an offshoot of the Shoshoni. They were a tribe of the plains, courageous, warlike, expert horseman and buffalo hunters. The site I got the words from is: http://www.isu.edu/~loetchri/shoshonidictionary.htm
A loud shot close by forced his eyes open. With a sharp series of coughs, he rolled over and blinked, studying the blurry fire just a few feet away. He winced and ran a hand on the sticky wet lump on his head. Tanner would pay for that ... he made another vow. He was tired and hurt and needed to end this. He spend a few minutes mentally butchering the slippery bastard, using his serraded knife, slow and easy. He'd take his balls first, then go north, cutting him open and pull his entrails out. He wanted to see him hurt. He took a deep breath and rolled his pounding head sideways, then smiled. Two for the price of one. That arrogant blond cowboy who had a soft spot for Tanner needed to be taken down a peg. They were lying in a heap several feet away. He saw one of the bodies move and smiled again.
"You're a crazy bastard, Tanner," he hissed, rising to his knees and looking for his gun. "I thought that blond cowboy meant something to you."
The voice caused Vin to swivel and the furies in him rose up, dancing with devilish delight. The hot prines of their pitchforks stabbed at his heart. He was still here ... leering over Bazi's corpse. The lust in his eyes was still bright. He glanced at the stilled face of the strange white man beneath him. The warmth of the man's blood clung to his naked chest, giving him strength. He grunted and shoved his body aside. The murderer of his sister still drew breath. Vin took a deep breath, feeling his father and grandfather's spirits close by. They whispered words in his ear, that which bespoke his being.
"Ne Nabidendegaigwahni'i!" He screamed, for he indeed was a warrior. Driven by a force far greater than physical, he felt no pain now. He threw himself at the beast, with the force of the ghosts of his family fueling him.
Garrett hadn't expected Tanner to react so swiftly and with such force. The lean body drove into him hard, propelling them both of them to the ground. They rolled and tumbled, exchanging blows to the face and body. Vin felt himself growing dizzy and gasping for air. He wrapped the cord still latched to his wrist around Garrett's throat and gripped it tight. The other man twitched beneath him, his blue eyes bulging, then he sagged and Vin released him. He wasn't done with the murderer yet. He staggered a few feet and found a canteen. He took a good gulp of water, still gasping for breath. His chest was on fire and the stench of the dead was too strong. He jogged over to the other invader, regarding the silent man. He had to finish with Bazi's killer first, then he would dispose of this one. He took the long black coat off the man and cast it aside. His fingers felt along the side of the green shirt, now stained crimson. He took the man's belt off and rolled him over, ignoring the cry of pain that sprung from his lips. He tied the rousing man's wrists behind his back, just as the eyes parted and the blond head rose.
The fire in his side answered the question of where the bullet went. The pain wasn't so bad, searing a path along his ribcage. His head still ached and he tried to move his hand to check the wound, only to find he was tied up.
"V ... V ... Vin ... " he choked, inhaling a mouthful of dust and dirt. He felt Vin's hand on his back and turned his head, just as the images of the violent attack came back. Vin was lost in time, locked in a nightmare where his family was slaughtered. " ... I ... can ... help ... you ... untie ... "
"Nooooooo!"
Chris winced as Vin's voice jumped into an unknown dialect. He didn't understand any of the rambling words, but the tone of his voice and the force with every syllable matched the velocity at which his face was ground in the dirt. The weight left his back and it took him several minutes to find the landscape without it tilting. Every movement brought pain to his wounded side and he knew the dizziness was blood loss as well as the head injury. He couldn't pass out ... Vin needed him. Gingerly, he rolled over, then watched as Vin knelt by Garrett.
Vin tied his left hand to Garrett's left hand, connected by the long thatch of leather still on his wrist. He backhanded him hard, several times, until the blue eyes open. Then he stood, knife in hand and motioned for the other to approach.
"You are one stupid bastard, Tanner. You should have killed me when you had the chance. I don't know what game you're playing ... " He hissed as the nimble man leaped, swinging the knife in a graceful arc that sliced through his side. "Game's over, bastard and you lose." He kicked his right leg, hitting the side of the other's knee.
"You better hope he doesn't you fuckin' animal," Chris shot back, "'cause I will finish what he started."
"From where I'm standing, Mister,' Garrett send back, hissing as the knife cut his shoulder. "You're next on his list. Hell, he already put a bullet in you ... "
Vin dodged and bobbed, time and time again, slicing parts of Garrett's bare arms, chest and back. Blood ran in rivulets down the other's chest. Vin felt the tension leaving on the other side, his opponent was weakening.
"I can't ... figure ... how ... you're ... still ... standing ... " Garrett coughed, spitting up blood. The other man was toting several injuries, including a serious head wound. The blood drenched right hip and thigh dictated his bullet found a home. How could he still be on his feet? He swung a hard fist towards the other's face, changing course at the last minute. He hit the right leg hard, drinking in the sharp cry of pain.
"Vin! Look out!" Chris screamed, watching Garrett using his superior strength to roll them towards the fire.
Something inside Vin's lost, troubled mind reacted to the sharp voice from behind him. He turned just in time, missing his head being shoved in the fire by inches. He felt the heat of the flames baking his neck and twisted, trying to get the other man off his back.
Garrett twisted Vin's left arm, holding it over the fire, using the flames to burn the cord off that bound them. The fact that he was burning his young victim made it sweeter and he enjoyed the screams of pain. He used his right fist to smash a blow into the other's ribcage, which gained another cry. As Fate would have it, he found his gun, grabbing it and aiming it at the back of the unruly mass of brown curls.
The flames seared his tender flesh on the side of his left arm, from the wrist and up the forearm. He jerked his body, trying to move, but a violent fist to his injured ribs caused another explosion. He felt the air leaving his chest and used his left hand to pick up a piece of the burning wood.
Vin's screams of agony and the smell of burning flesh brought Chris to his feet. He staggered a few feet and sucked in a deep breath, then slammed his body into Garrett's. At the same time, his best friend turned, shoving a burning piece of wood into Garrett's neck. That action sent the injured gunslinger backwards, hitting the ground hard. He saw the whole scene darken for a moment, as all three men lie prone, gasping for breath. Chris wanted to move, but couldn't , he was paralyzed by pain. Vin rolled over, away from the fire and wasn't moving. Garrett got to his knees, looking for the gun.
His chest glistened with blood as he crawled away. He felt dizzy and knew the numerous wounds Tanner inflicted, were beginning to take effect. He got the gun and stood awkwardly, while the ground seemed to move under his feet. He heard a cry and turned, as Tanner rose, heading for him, knife held high. His numbed fingers couldn't grip the gun correctly and he needed a few more minutes. He eyed the inky black desert, which was just a few feet away. He ran pell mell, his jagged path lead into virtual darkness.
"No ... Vin ... come ... back ... " Chris whispered, fighting off pain and a black curtain of unconsciousness. But the lost soul had one goal ... to find and kill his family's killer. "No ... " He screamed as Vin disappeared into the virtual black that began a few feet from the fire.
Like two animals, they stalked each other. Each bleeding and hurt, the wounds only seemed to make each choice more difficult. Garrett knew Tanner could move quietly, so he remained still. He closed his eyes and listened for breathing or footsteps, but heard nothing. He was behind a cluster of rocks, the only noise he heard was the night wind. For several moments, he remained lock still, then peeked his head around.
Vin was ontop of the rock, each step one of burning agony. To his left was a steep canyon, so every step was crucial. His left arm was on fire and the pain in his right leg throbbed with no mercy. He was losing ground and this had to be his final move. He watched Garrett below him, quivering like a young maiden. He smiled then, closed his eyes and leapt.
"Arrgggghhh ... ." Garrett wailed as the nimble body hit him square in the back.
The flight to his enemy took all his air away. His numb hand lost the knife and he couldn't breathe. It was then he realized that Garrett dropped the gun. He saw it a few feet away, nearly waving to him. He sucked in his breath and dove. Grabbing it, he heard footsteps, wheeled and fired, striking the man in the shoulder. He fired again, hitting his leg. Garrett fell back, disappearing into darkness. For several moments Vin couldn't move. He remained on his back, shivering in the freezing night air. He had nothing left. He was lost and alone and utterly defeated by his own body. He was dying. He cast his heavy eyes on the beguiling moon and sent his heart felt emotions skyward into a prayer for foregivenss.
The paralyzing pain that engulfed Chris Larabee dissolved when the two shots rang out. He slammed his eyes shut, seeing a horrid vision on Vin's dead body which invaded without invite. Those large blue eyes that captivated so many, were open and without sight. Gasping for breath, he felt his eyes grow full, as the finality of the situation took hold with venomous talons. That which he had come to embrace, a blue-eyed spirit of the wind, was lost to him forever. That pain hurt worse than his wounds; his body could heal, his soul couldn't. Then it came, softly at first, carried on the night air. Words ... choking words..forced from a place deep inside. Broken by bitters sobs of agony, they rose skyward, drifting over the fire and into the injured man's heart. He smiled, heaved a hugh sigh of relief and let the moisture escape. The words were Indian dialect, but the accent, the tone, the voice - were 100% Tanner. He lived!
"Viiiinnnnnn!" He screamed with all his heart. He didn't want Vin to feel deserted or defeated. The echo of the words haunted him, like a broken soul cut by jagged pieces of a life too harsh. "Vin! Vin! I need you!"
The injured Comanche manchild froze and his breath caught. That voice ... he knew that voice. His heart sang, he wasn't alone. His older brother had come back for him. The tears on his face that fell in sorrow, now traced a path of joy. He crawled towards the voice, which beckoned from the other side of the fire. Where the spirits playing tricks? He saw the glow of orange and moved onward, slowly on his hands and knees, one hand in front of the other. The orange ball got bigger and a face appeared. He choked on his tears as the unmistakable features of his beloved older brother appeared.
"Te ... he ... no ... " he whispered, afraid that it would disappear. The bravest of all warriors, his tall, strong brother, older by ten moons. Fierce, proud and courageous, he'd learned all he knew from his brother. There were the bronzed skin and features he knew so well. Dark hair swirled in the breeze and the black eyes were trained on him. Was he real? "Teheno!" He screamed, raising one bloodied hand from the dirt.
"Yeah, it's me, Vin!" Chris's whole body slumped with relief. He didn't know who 'Teheno' was, but the razor-sharp raw emotions in Tanner's voice matched the shimmering affection in the moist blue eyes. Whoever this person was, Vin had cared for him deeply. Father? Grandfather? It mattered not, it brought Vin back to him. "A little closer ... .come on ... you can do it." Larabee coached, watching his weak friend struggle for each small move.
It was just a few more feet, to where his brother was waiting. Then he saw Bazi's body and froze, his blue eyes wide with horror and shame. Teheno had trusted him to watch over his wife and new son. How had he been repaid? He'd failed his brother ... he failed ... he failed.
"Gai' Gai' ... " he denied, hoping the sightless corpse would go away.
"What?" Chris frowned, seeing the drastic change. He followed the line of Vin's eyes, to a spot a few feet away. What were those tortured blue eyes seeing that caused such agony? He had to break through and did it the only way he knew how. "Look at me!" He thundered in anger, "Quit cryin' and get your ass over here, I need you. I can't help you unless you untie me."
"Maiku," Vin agreed, hearing the stormy voice he knew so well. After all, Teheno had come back for him. He was angry but he was still a brother. He came back for you. He crawled closer and finally reached the buckskin panted leg of his older brother. He collapsed then, as pain raged through his battered body. It was as he fought every ragged breath, gasping and gulping air, he felt a stong hand on the side of his face.
"You're okay," Chris said in a calm voice, tapping the bloody cheek. "Get my knife from the saddlebags, Vin. Untie me ... Vin. understand?"
"Haa'," Vin nodded, seeing his brother's hands bound. His eyes roamed the campsite, until they spotted the buffalo skin sacs his brother took hunting. Sucking in his breath, he crawled over, found the knife and clamped it into his teeth. The road back was difficult, he wavered and fell, only Teheno's voice kept him going. Sweat poured down his marked face, his head was soaked and he'd gone far beyond where human endurance ended. He kept his fevered eyes glued to Teheno's face and used the strong tone to guide him home. Again, he found the buckskinned leg and collapsed, spitting the knife out. He heard a cry of pain as Teheno moved sideways. He sucked in his breath, held his body up with his left hand and slit the leather with the right.
"Alright," Chris eased his body up to a sitting position, eyeing the slim, half-naked body curled next to him. "Christ, you're a mess ... " He hauled Vin upright, supporting him, while staring at the warpaint on his cheeks. The blue eyes were dull with pain and fatigue. Then they moved past him, to the same spot that tore his heart before.
"Bazi ... " Vin choked, turning his shamed face away from his brother.
"What's wrong?" Chris demanded, seeing shame and humilation on the marred, fine features. "Look at me!"
"Gai'" Vin denied, dropping his head in shame. He failed. He was thirteen moons now and old enough to be a man, yet he'd failed. "Gai'" he tried to move away, but her eyes were everywhere. "Bazi ... Bazi ... "
"Bazi?" Chris muttered, still holding Vin by the shoulders. The firm flesh beneath his fingers trembled in fear and the shame shadowed the troubled face. He added the clues then, the trauma was because Garrett raped and murdered Vin's sister and killed her child. If 'Bazi' was the sister, then this shame and humilation in his hands must be tied to Teheno. Was Teheno Bazi's husband? He tipped the face up, the eyes so full of pain it left him speechless for several seconds. He gripped the square jaw, remembering that the body in front of him was a man, but the mind was back in time, a young boy. "It's okay, Vin, I'm not angry. I understand about Bazi. It wasn't your fault. I'm proud of you." There was slight movement, the words found home! He saw some of the shame flee and the head moved a little. "Get your head up! You're no coward, dammit!" That sharp tone cut through the rest, and the head came up. The blues were still clouded with pain, but they held no more shame. The lingering pools of emotion there were grief for a loved one. He opened his arms and nodded, welcoming the desolate soul.
"Bazi?" Vin squeaked, collasping against his brother's strong chest.
"Easy, Vin ... " Chris held on and waited, but no tears came. It was one agonizing, gut-ripping sob that lanced through him. One hand was on the damp, brown curls, the other on Vin's bruised back. He felt the body go limp then and eased him down. His fingers found a pulse, not weak or strong, in a scary world in between. He eyed the meager campsite and made a mental list of what needed to be done. His horse was long gone, having bolted at the gunshot earlier. He didn't know where Garrett's horse was, it wasn't near here.
First, his own wound needed to be checked. He got to his feet, took two small steps and then two more, finally arriving at the saddlebags. He took whiskey out, placed it on the flat rocks near the fire and pulled his shirt up. He cried out as skin stuck to the wound, ripping free made a white hot pain. He took a small, shaving mirror, about four inches in diameter and held it to his side. It confirmed what his eyes saw, a very deep graze several inches long. He doused it with whiskey, cursing a blue streak and drawing tears of pain as the fire erupted in his side. He used a small roll of gauze, wrapping it around his wound, just below the ribcage. He buttoned the shirt and began the task of tending to his young friend.
Kneeling by Vin's side, he noted the horrid trail of discoloration on his swollen face and chest. Painful, but not life threatening. He cut the leather cords remaining on each wrist and gently examined the burn on Vin's left arm. It was on the underside, from the side of his hand past his wrist and halfway to the elbow. He gently turned the unconscious man on his side, his temper flaring when he saw the cruel kisses of the lash. Sighing, he eyed the filthy bandage covering Vin's head wound. So much to do and his own strength ebbing. Lastly, he eyed the severe saturation on Vin's upper thigh. He slid the knife through the hole and cut the fabric away. He continued the path, halfway around the leg.
"Shit!" His fingers confirmed his worse fear, the bullet was still inside. He eyed the fire nearby and moved behind Vin. Lifting him under the arms, he quickly moved him closer to the warmth to shield him from the cold night air. He spent several minutes lining up what tools he had. Full bottle of whiskey, half bottle of carbolic, three canteens, two knives, bandages and some food. He used the linen cloth the bandages were wrapped and a tiny amount of water. He washed the blood from Vin's face and felt the heat rising. The head wound under the dirty bandage was red and angry. He dabbed it with carbolic, but didn't recover it, knowing he'd need the bandages for Vin's arm and leg. The stilled man never stirred, when the tender ministrations continued. He wanted to clean the wounds on the sharpshooter's back, but didn't have a bedroll to put him on. They weren't deep and he eyed the burlap bag that held the food. He slit the sides and it opened up fairly wide.
He used a small amount of water to dab the area around the nasty hole in Vin's upper thigh. Then he used some carbolic on it, this drew a sharp hiss of pain and the blue eyes shot open.
"Sorry," he apologized, resting a hand on the shivering man's shoulder. The eyes blinked several times, then closed again. He didn't have anything to boil the knife in, however, he did clean it with whiskey. Then he turned it under the flames several times. The dizziness returned and he sat back, using his free hand to rub his eyes. Not now ... can't pass out. A raspy voice, sounding so very young and unsure, broke his rest.
" ... hagani ... naakwa ... " Vin asked, confused. What had happened? Where was he? What was Teheno doing with that knife? "Teheno ... hagani?"
"Uh ... " Chris winced, following Vin's line of sight. He never saw the tracker's eyes look any larger. The Adam's apple bobbed several times and the pale lips trembled. He'd seen Vin survive worse, but that was as an adult, not a shocked boy. "You got a bullet in your leg, Vin, I gotta take it out. It's been in there too long. It's already bringin' a fever. I can't risk leaving it in there, I don't know when help will come." He prattled, his nerves jangled. He saw the confusion deepen and heard the injured man's shallow breathing increase. "Damn ... I should have woken Nathan up."
"Nat ... than ... " Vin had trouble getting the name out. "Na ... th ... an ... "
"Yeah, he'll fix whatever I mess up, don't worry!" Chris exuded with confidence. He picked up the Whiskey and lifted Vin's head. "Here, this will help with the pain ... go on ... "
Vin paused, eyeing the knife, the bottle and Teheno's face. The pain in his leg was wicked and he eyed the knife again. It was then he made the connection. Teheno was going to fix the pain. "eN?" he asked, pointing to his brother and then his leg.
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to cut it out, it's gonna hurt like Hell. But you're tough ... you'll be okay. Here ... "
Vin sniffed the bottle and wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. "Gai'" he denied, he didn't like the water that burned.
"Look, it's not so bad, see?" Chris took a small sip and watched the pale brown eyebrows furrow. Finally the head nodded and he pulled it up again, tipping the bottle slightly at the parted lips. He didn't have a mouthful in yet, when the coughing started. The curses followed, loud and wet. The eyes blazed and the hand formed into a fist and tried to clip his chin. "Cut that out!" he grabbed the wayward fist and forced more whiskey in the sputtering mouth. "You think I was trying to poison you."
"Haa'" Vin agreed, that is what the awful burning felt like. He didn't hide his anger, but took more. He screwed his face up again, spitting his tongue out and trying to turn away. He heard a chuckle and turned to see Teheno grinning at him. "Hah ... " he scowled, it wasn't funny!
"One more," Chris coached, giving Vin a good gulp. He ducked his head then, chuckling. The blue eyes were blinking and the half smile that formed was followed by a series of hiccups. The hand shot up, tapping the bottle.
"Hibi," Vin slurred, enjoying the warmth that the firey liquid brought.
"No, that's enough!" he smirked, tucking it to the side. He swabbed the leg again and picked the knife from the fire. He blew on it, ignoring the sharp inhalations of fear that the glowing red edge brought to the patient.
"It's okay to be scared ... " Chris started, only to be interrupted. He held that frightened gaze for a few moments, "Trust me?"
He wasn't scared, well maybe a little. But his brother wouldn't hurt him, that he knew. "Haa'" Vin nodded, inhaling the green flow of confidence. He lifted his hand up and gripped Teheno's forearm. "..babi ... "
Chris didn't know what that word meant, but he felt every bit of emotion pouring from Vin's eyes. The hoarse choke that brought the word free took a good grip on hiim. It married the feeling that the hand of brotherhood clamped to his arm represented. It was Vin's way to telling him how he felt. He didn't need to understand the word, he felt it straight to the bone. He smiled, nodded and gripped the Texan's forearm in return. "Yeah ... you bet ... " That seemed to work, a huge exhalation of relief poured from Vin and he relaxed instantely. He picked up a good sized stick and held it to the other man's mouth. "Open up ... you bite down when it hurts ... understand?"
"Haa'" Vin nodded, he'd seen that before. He gripped the stick and his eyes remained on the knife. Then they moved to Teheno's face.
"Aw, hell, Vin, don't look at me," Chris muttered, "Uh, look at the stars, see ... " He pointed with his free hand. "Count them for me, okay?"
"Maiku," Vin agreed, taking a good breath and staring hard at the sky. He tried hard not to cry, he wasn't a boy anymore. The hot metal went through his flesh and muscle and he bit through the stick, his muffled cries causing tears to run from the sides of his eyes. The pain intensified and then exploded. He screamed and spit the stick out, along with a flow of spit and blood.
Chris heard the cry, but blocked it out. He paused briefly, when Vin went slack. He'd cut through the fat and muscle of Vin's upper leg and spotted the lead ball. That moment, when he dug the tip in deeper to pry the bullet free, was when Vin's scream went airborne. Now he was asleep and the rest was easier. He tossed the bullet aside and doused the wound good with whiskey and carbolic. He soaked some gauze strips in carbolic and tucked them inside the wound. He lifted Vin's leg and carefully wrapped a loose bandage. There, it was done. He sat back, totally drained and rested his back against the broad rock. He reached for the whiskey and his hands trembled. Twice he fisted them to stop the tremor. He took a sip and eyed his silent friend. The scarlett slashes he wore on his cheeks now, were from fever, not warpaint. The beads of sweat on his forehead pooled as quickly as were wiped away. He moved his duster over Vin, covering him to the shoulders. Shivering himself, he got closer to the fire, eating some jerky and an apple. The angry arm burn needed tending. He had nothing to swab it with. He'd washed it with whiskey, but he knew it had to hurt like hell. He eyed the cactus nearby and thought on the pulp. It would be cool, anyway, maybe take the sting away. Once he rested a minute, he'd get Vin some. He let his eyes close, drifting awhile and letting his injured body rest.
The blackness parted and he stirred. His leg throbbed, but not as bad as before. His head hurt, he felt sick to his stomach and his arm was on fire. His back felt like fire ants were feasting on him. One word formed, someone to take the pain away. He could't quite get his eyes open and his mouth was dry.
"Te ... he ... no ... " he rasped painfully, lifting his head. His brother was sitting by his side, the warrior's head was down. He reached out and tugged the buckskinned pants leg.
"Vin?" Chris's eyes flew open at the featherlight touch. He blinked several times, wondering how long he'd slept. The fire was low and he moved to stoke it, giving the air a warm, orange glow. He lifted Vin upright, supporting him and looked into the flushed face. "How you feeling?"
" ... baa' ... " he croaked painfully, rubbing his throat and pointing to the canteen. " ... baa' ... "
"Yeah, hold on," Chris got the canteen and uncorked it, "Easy now, I don't want you to throw up. That's it ... good." Finally the thirsty man was sated. He waited until the gasping stopped and eased the body back down.
" ... aisheN ... " Vin sighed in relief, he was very thankful for the gift of water.
"Your welcome," Chris smiled, seeing the relief easily.
Vin looked around the desert, so dark and endless. How were they here? What had happened? Why was he hurt so badly? He turned his eyes to he brother "Hagani ... naakwa ... " he waited and saw the face remain blank. He tugged at the sleeve, "Teheno?"
"Uh ... you got hurt," he answered the confused eyes that continued to roam over the desert. "You just rest now, help is on the way. How are you feeling?"
" ... gizhaa ... " Vin replied, he truly didn't feel well. He shut his eyes and moved to hold his bad arm. He shoved the rough coat off, it was too hot. " ... ede'iN ... " he protested, shaking his wet head.
"I know you're hot," Chris pulled the makeshift blanket back up, "..that's the fever. How 'bout I fix that arm, okay?" He gently lifted the injured left hand and waited.
"Maiku," Vin nodded, it was hurting bad, throbbing and hot. He watched through blurry eyes as Teheno left, taking the knife with him. He tried to stay awake but his heavy eyes dropped. He shook it off, then opened them again. A shrill wind blew by, causing the fire to dim. He was cold and hurt and alone. Alone? Where was his brother? He panicked, eyeing the dark desert. "Teheno?" he whispered, heart pounding, "Teheno!"
"Shit!" Chris jumped at Vin's loud cry and his careful plans to extract two large paddles from the cactus went awry. He had one free and yanked the other, cursing again as the sharp pins lanced his hand. He recovered his steps, watching Vin sit up and try to move. "No!" He hollered ,fearful of the leg. "I was over there, getting some cactus. You okay?" He gripped the back of the wet head and used the opportunity to douse the wounds on Vin's back. He felt the tracker's heart beating wildly and felt the hand latch onto his arm. "I won't leave you again, I'm sorry ... " He said softly, feeling the damp head hit his shoulder. He knew the carbolic had to sting, yet Vin didn't utter a sound. Only the deathgrip on his arm, showed how much pain he was in. He moved the large linen cloth under where Vin's back would rest, and lowered him.
" ... aisheN ... " Vin sighed, finding Teheno's dark eyes hovering.
"You're welcome," Chris understood that, seeing the breathing slow and the fear leave. Then he saw the blue eyes troubled again. "What?" Vin's two hands reached over and opened his palm. The brows over the blues drew together. "I rushed a little, I'll pull them out ... " he noted of the prickly needles.
"Gai'" Vin denied, he'd do it. He held Teheno's wrist with one hand and with his other hand shaking badly, he extracted each one. He pointed to whiskey, recalling how it took the sting away.
Chris complied, handing the bottle over and winced as a tiny amount splashed in his hand. Vin gently rubbed the sore area, before lifting his face. The blue eyes were bright with triumph and he saw a shy smile form. He returned it, swallowed hard and offered his own thanks. "aisheN' ... " he stammered, then saw Vin beam. Before he could blink, the bottle was at Vin's lip and a hearty swallow was gone. "Hey, gimme that! You tricked me!"
"Haa'" Vin chuckled, tapping his head with his finger.
"Don't get cocky, Tanner, you're not that smart." He cut the large cacti open and dug out pulp. Vin sensed what was happening and lifted his arm. He laid the thick juicy fruit pulp over it and wrapped it in strips of the burlap bag. He heard Vin moan in relief and the eyes shut. The short gasps of pleasure were short lived.
The heat in his arm subsided and it relaxed him. He sighed and laid back, but it was harder to breath lying down. He began to panic, twisting to gain some more air. An action that his brother mistook.
"Aw shit," Chris moved to the other side, easing Vin up and over, "Are you gonna throw up?"
" ... hagai ... enne ... ?" Vin hissed in confusion. He didn't understand what Teheno meant.
"Uh ... throw up ... " Chris caught Vin's furrowed face and motioned for the other to watch. He used his fingers in his mouth, then gagged and pretended to throw up. This only made the younger man's face wrinkle more.
" ... hagai ... " Vin frown, then he understood. "Gai'" He shook his head and heaved several times, then pointed to the flat ground. He shook his head and pointed to his nose and inhaled. "Maiku?"
"Oh, you can't breathe lying down," Chris nodded. "You hungry?" He pointed to the fruit nearby and saw the head bob. He walked over to get it and paused, hearing Vin's voice change. He turned back, catching the other man unaware. He smiled broadly and chuckled, watching Vin mimick his actions from a minute ago. Something a kid would do behind an adult's back. The face did an exaggerated scowl, the voice deepened and issued strange words in a deep, rough tone. Then his slim fingers went in his mouth and he gagged. This was followed by the fevered blue eyes crinkling in warmth as laughter escaped. He paused then, listening carefully to the tone. For a brief moment, time was suspended and he got a glimpse of how happy Vin had been as a child. Raised with love in an extended family that held him to their bosom, he'd learned more about life in those short years, then most do in a lifetime. The lightness in the laughter that surrounded the camp attested to that. It gave him a good feeling inside and he kept it, as he strode back. "You think you're funny, huh?" he teased, squatting by the injured man's side. He saw the matted head bob and the smile appear again.
"Teheno ... " Vin's voice was high and full of mirth. He did the imitation again, complete with an angry scowl, deep voice and the finger gag motion. Then he laughed again and pointed at his brother. "Teheno ... "
"Enough, already," Chris chaffed, "Nobody likes a wiseass, here ... " He handed Vin a quarter of the apple and watched him eat it. He repeated the motion several times, until the meager meal was done. He then offered the canteen, hoping that help arrived soon. They only had one full canteen left. This one was nearly empty. Halfway through the drink, he saw Vin's eyes darken and the arm fell.
Vin saw the dark stain on Teheno's shirt and frowned. His hand reached over and tugged at it, only to be pushed away.
"I'm okay, you get some rest now and ... " he stopped again as the irate face appeared and the hand squirmed past his arm, tapping the wound. "I took care of it, see?" He lifted the shirt and let Vin examine the bandage. The eyes remained angry and the hand pointed to the spot near the fire.
"..hapi ... " Vin insisted, Teheno was hurt and needed to rest. " ... hapi ... "
"I'm okay, you need to rest, you got a fever. Get some shuteye. I got your back."
Vin paused, eyeing the fire nearby, which brought warmth. But that which filled him now, was due his older brother. He'd forgiven him for his failure and showered him with tender care. He felt the damp cloth on his face and closed his eyes, letting the cool cloth sate the fire. With heavy eyes, he studied his brother's features. The dark eyes were full of warmth and the steady hands held him safely. He eyed the bandages on Teheno's side again, worried that the enemy would come. As if sensing his fear, the strong voice spoke again.
"He won't hurt you again," Chris vowed, eyeing the darkness. "You got my word." He saw the slim man shivering as his fever rose. "You cold?"
"..ha..ha ... haa' ... " Vin chattered, suddenly unable to get warm.
"I can fix that. I'm getting chilly myself." It was true, and the night air was not the only reason. He had a fever coming on and eased his lean body behind Vin resting his back to the rock. He pulled him up, so Vin's back was against his chest. He pulled the black duster over both of them, letting body heat and the warm fire keep the cold away. He was dozing, one hand wrapped around Vin's chest, when the raspy voice came back.
Vin never felt safer than at this moment. It was more than the strong arm that held him. It was from the warrior's heart he felt beating through his back. His broken faith was restored by his brave brother, who forgave him his sin and restored his heart. He wanted to tell him just how much that meant. He tilted his head sideways and reached his good arm up, clutching the side of Teheno's neck.
" ... babi ... " he choked, letting his eyes shut, confident no one or nothing would harm him.
"Yeah," Chris let out a breath, he didn't know what the word meant, but he would find out. It sure had a powerful effect on Vin. He waited until the fevered man's trembles grew more distant as the chills left him. Then, with Vin resting easy and breathing deeply, he finally succombed to his own throbbing fatigue.
With each passing hour, J.D. became more irritated. What was taking the sheriff's man so long? He eyed the dark horizon and pulled his coat tighter. The desert could be a fickle mistress. Hot and alluring one minute and cold as hell the next. He huddled against the rocks, keeping his gun trained on the arrogant army man. Twice his head bobbed from exhaustion, hitting his chest. He stood and walked a few paces, shaking himself awake. Then a voice broke the cold night air.
"Riders coming in!"
"Hold it, right there, I'm Sheriff Dave Birch identify yourselves!" He ordered into the darkness.
"It's me, Dave!" a voice called back.
"Sherman?" Birch squinted over the glow of the fire they'd built. Two horses came into view. One bearing Harry Sherman, of their posse, the other a military man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.
"This here is Major Thomas Kelly. He's from Fullerton, he's looking for Dixon and his partner, a soldier named Garrett. He verified that kid's story."
"Major?" Dave Birch walked over to the tall man, who slid from his horse and approached the bound captive. "Did my man update you?" He stood next to the seething army man.
"Yes, he told me Dunne found Dixon. He's wanted for murder, robbery and a long list of federal violations." Kelly seethed, turning to the smug detainee. "You heartless bastard, how could you?" He raged at the arrogant officer who merely shrugged. "There were innocent people on that train ... children for God's sake!"
"A necessary casualty ... all wars have them." Dixon replied without remorse.
"War? What happened to you? You used to be a fine officer ... " Kelly repelled, the words dripping off his tongue.
"You wouldn't understand, Kelly, that honor of yours won't pay the bills when the army boots you out. I had bigger dreams." Dixon drawled.
"Where's Garrett?" Kelly grabbed the other man and hauled him up, shoving him hard against the rocks.
"Gone. You'll never catch him." Dixon gloated, "He's a lot smarter than you ever were."
"What about Tanner?" the Major queried, gripping Dixon's throat hard.
"What about him?" Dixon choked, his eyes untelling. "Could be he's visiting an old friend ... " He laughed, thinking of what Garrett had done by now.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" Kelly charged, causing three men to pull him off of the now battered prisoner. "Get him out of my sight!"
"Calvin, get him on a horse." He turned to the irate Major, "We'll take him to Fullerton. Who should I see?"
"Reinhardt, General Reinhardt," Major Kelly replied, "or Orrin Travis." He wrote a note to the General, explaining the details of the capture. "Give him this ... Where's the boy?" He handed the note over and eyed the camp.
"Damn hot-headed youngster is squirreled away in them rocks," he muttered, "Come on down, Kid!" Birch bellowed, peering by the cluster of rocks where the valiant, young hero finally emerged. He had to smile then, despite the exhaustion painting the youth's face, there was a tint of smug pride. "You can ride with me anytime, Son!" He extended his hand, "nothing personal."
"S'okay, Sheriff, the important thing is that Dixon won't see the light of day again." Dunne turned to Kelly. "Were you alone? Did you find Vin? How about Garrett?"
"No to all three questions," Kelly spat in the dirt, his stomach churning. "I rode out with Chris Larabee ... "
"Chris is here!" J.D. eyed the road the two men came from. "Where is he?"
"We found Mister Tanner's jacket and gun back a few miles. There were two sets of tracks, I took one that led me this way, where I met the posse member. Chris followed the other trail."
"Why would they split up?" J.D. frowned, walking to where Dixon was sitting on a horse, hands tied securely. He stared hard at the bleeding prisoner and saw something in the eyes he didn't like. "He found you, didn't he?" he noted of the stellar tracker.
"You're too late ... " he whispered, only for the angry boy's ears. He didn't count on the hellion dragging him off the horse and beating him.
"Easy kid! Christ he moves fast!" Birch hauled the small youth off the now semiconscious army man.
"Let me go!" J.D. squirmed, "he knows where Vin is ... Garrett has him ... I'm gonna make him talk."
"He's out!" Calvin hauled the slumped figure upright. "He was goading you kid ... if they knew the law was after them, they probably split up when the came across the border. By going in different directions, they split the defense, gives them better odds."
"You better be right," Dunne hissed, shaking off the marshall's hand. His hot eyes lingered on the prone prisoner, now slung over a horse. "'cause if I don't find Vin alive ... " he left the threat linger, before walking back to his horse. "Major, show me where you and Chris split up." He vaulted onto his horse, jerking the rains with fire in his hazel eyes. "Let's ride!" he gritted, much like his idol.
With grizzled determination that only came when you felt the fetid air left when the angel of death beat her wings above, he moved onward. One bloodied hand over the other, sometimes moving a mere few feet and needing an hour to rest. He didn't know how much blood he'd lost, it mattered not. He'd been hurt, stabbed, shot and much worse in his life, this felt different. Much different. He was dying. The one thing, the only thing, that kept him alive, hauling his battered body up the steep incline was that he wasn't going to hell alone. Vin Tanner was coming with him. With a final grunt of pain and shot forth with a mouthful of blood, he hauled his body over the edge and found solid ground. He collapsed, gulping air and grimacing in pain. His eyes caught the dim glow of a fire in the distance. His hot eyes raked the darkened landscape, then he saw it, lying a few yards away. The gun became his new goal. Once he rested, he'd find Vin Tanner and shove that gun down his throat. With that thought lingering in his mind, Brad Garrett rested, preparing for the final showdown.
Twice enroute to the area when Chris and the army man split up, J.D. had to pause to wait. The Major's horse was limping and he was slowing them down.
"I'm going ahead, to follow's Chris's trail!" He bellowed and saw the other man wave. With that he sped off into the night.
If it was possible to be sicker than he felt at this moment, he didn't know how. He would have shivered for he was that cold, but his body was too weak to elicit such a motion. He was sure there was an ax embedded in his skull and one in his hip as well. Twin fires burned in his arm and chest and he continued to swallow back bile, the nausea was that bad. He couldn't rest, despite his heavy eyes. He didn't want to hurt anymore, he was tired of fighting the pain. How many hours had it been? Maybe it had been days? He knew not. He was tired ... he heard his grandmother and Bazi calling to him. It would be so easy ... to slip away. He ached to feel his grandmother's touch, her kind eyes that awakened him each morn. How she loved him! How her sweet voice sang to him at night. Her wise words that taught him so much and the pride in her eyes at how quickly he learned. Those kind, loving hands bathing his fevers away and brushing the long curls that hung down his back.
" ... hutsi ... " he rasped, seeing her by the fire now, opening her arms to welcome him. Tears filled his eyes. Then, as he fought weakly to join her, to feel safe in that wonderful embrace again, he felt another's arms around him. A strong arm clasped to his waist. A valiant heart beating into his back, the hot breath on his neck. Teheno. His brother cared for him ... needed him..shielded him ... saved him.
" ... gaisheseN ... " he denied, telling her it was 'not yet' time to join her. He closed his eyes then, smiling a bit that his slight movement caused Tehneno's arm to tighten around his waist. Somehow then, the pain that ravished his body seemed to dimish a little. He embraced that feeling and breathed in the strong air his brother exhaled. With every breath drawn, he felt his fight to live return. He would fight hard ... for Teheno. They would help each other; he felt the brave heart beating strongly in time with his own. They would live ... survive and fight together ... in love and honor. For that is what brothers do.
Her lips moved seductively, following a path from his navel, up past his chest, pausing to nibble on a sensitive area, before finding his neck. Her teeth nipped and tickled his tender skin, before they captured his lips, suckling gently. Her ripe body pressed against his, their breaths mingled, hot hands roamed over supple flesh. He grabbed her slim hips and moved to cover her waiting body.
"Nathan, you awake?"
The sultry seductress faded away, her bright eyes teasing him as he found himself alone, almost. He remained rigid in the bed, his aching loins still damp from the dream. Sweat clung to his dark skin, but he made no move to rise. Finally, he managed to turn his eyes east, seeing the unmistakable profile lurking over him.
"Buck worse?" he croaked through clenched teeth.
"No, sleeping like a baby. Fever broke last night, he ate good, drank a lot ... pissed a lot too." Josiah rambled.
"Vin worse?"
"Well, uh ... I don't think so," the preacher stalled.
"Hotel on fire?"
"Nope." He smiled then, recognized what the distinct body language represented.
"Then yuh better haul ass, before I wake up and get my gun." Nate growled, hearing the low chuckle next to him. "Yuh think that's funny!"
"I do, I've been there, Brother and I know that pain," he waited, watching the signs of life returning. Finally, a leg moved, then another, then after a few practiced moves and a groan, the body rose, sitting hunched over the side of the bed.
"Well?" Nate barked, eyeing the large preacher.
"Your horse is at the livery."
"Dammit to Hell, Josiah," he stammered, raking a hand over his weary face, still feeling Raine pressed against him. "Do yuh know what yuh done? Yuh woke me up for that? My horse was at the stable when I got in the bed and I reckon he'd be there after I was done ... uh ... woke up ... " He paused, eyeing the shadows on the face. Then he saw worry in the smokey eyes. "What ain't yuh telling me?"
"Well, Vin rode out on that horse just after dark last night ... "
"What!" He roared, jumping to his feet and ducking as Ezra's arm came up, bearing his derringer.
"Ezra, put that peashooter away, before you hurt somebody," Josiah ordered to the half-asleep gambler. But his direction was ignored and the southerner sat up, moaning as every inch of his injured back protested.
"You ... better ... have ... a ... valid ... reason ... for ... dis ... dis ... turbing ... my slum ... ber ... " Ezra clenched over the pain.
"I'll give yuh some laudanum in a minute, Ezra," Nate barked, standing toe to toe with the preacher. "Tell me I was half asleep and heard yuh wrong." He waited and then curled his face up in anger. "What the hell where yuh thinkin', lettin' him ride off into the desert. He ain't fit to sit a horse. He'll die out there ... condition he's in ... "
"Hold it!" Josiah boomed, "I didn't know he left. I found out later, when Chris left to follow him."
"Our esteemed leader returned?" Ezra gasped, gripping the bedpost as bold devils stabbed his spine with flame-coated pitchforks.
"Briefly," Josiah moved aside, allowing Nathan to get the laudanum and pour a large spoonful. "Here ... "
"Upon reconsideration," Ezra struggled to stand, "My services may be required."
"Yuh ass ain't goin' anywhere," the healer shoved the spoon in the protesting man's mouth. "Next thing Buck'll be tryin' to get out. What happened?" He directed to the preacher, while easing Ezra back onto the bed.
"Seems Vin caught word that Garrett was heading north, to the Rockies. He must have thought it couldn't wait anymore. His thirst for justice overcame his reasoning. J.D. took out after him."
"Wonderful, that does alot to bolster my sagging spirits ... " the gambler yawned, as the sleep aid began to take effect.
"Chris rode in, talked to Buck, got a map Vin left and took Major Kelly with him."
"Why didn't yuh tell anybody!" Nate angered, "Yuh knew how sick Vin was ... he'd never last alone in that condition in the desert, I don't care how good a tracker he is ... "
"I gave Chris my word, he's afraid some of them trigger happy recruits would spot Vin and shoot first." The solemn reply came.
"Well," Nate pulled the blanket over Ezra, who was sleeping again. He eyed the sky and saw the inky blackness turning navy blue. "It'll be light in a couple hours, I want to check on Buck and change his bandages, get some food in him. Maybe by the time we get the wagon ready, we'll get word."
"Wagon?" Josiah said, handing Nathan his gun belt and hat.
"Wagon, fully loaded," the healer stopped in the dimly lit hallway, his dark eyes grave. "I only hope we get there in time to save Vin."
Something caused the fevered blue eyes to open. The sky was not black anymore as Dawn slowly began to dress. Her blue cloak was still on, with the hint of the rosy, golden gown underneath. He froze, relaxing slightly when he felt Tehano's breath on his neck. Then he turned painfully as a figure approached. His breath came in pants, sweat poured down his face, he felt the terror rise in his chest, banging against every broken bone in his ribcage, before it jumped his heart. His jaw quivered, he tried to move his hand, his leg, anything, to rouse his brother, but he was too weak and couldn't move an inch. The figure came closer, the blurriness disappeared and he saw a gun in the stranger's hand. A white man ... a gun ... his fevered mind screamed one word and he repeated it, thrusting it through his parched lips.
"Daiboo!" He screamed, of the white man. "Teheno ... Daiboo ... " He screams died in his throat when the stranger quickened his steps, dropping over him. Vin eyes went wide with rage and fire as they lingered on the gun.
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