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.
The lazy afternoon sun yawned, sending a cascade of brilliant rays onto the weary team. Her brother the sea shouted in triumph at their arrival, gifting them with a lungful of salt air. Tall palm trees lined the busy street near the town square. Children chased dogs, laughing and rolling hoops. Mothers prattled away, pushing prams with snoozing infants. Brash businessmen lingered behind pristine glass, sealing deals and preparing future negotiations and Nathan Jackson felt his soul breathe for the first time in weeks.
He pulled the team on a side street across from the City Park. A trio of fountains sent water babbling over ivory statues. Flowering trees and shrubs boldly welcomed him, their bosoms displayed proudly in red, yellow, white and lavender hues. He was so swept up in the harmony that rocked into his body, he didn't see his friend approach.
"Nathan? Nathan?" Josiah grinned at the large brown eyes sweeping over the pretty vista. "She sure is a tempting lady..." he noted of the beautiful seaside community.
"I'll say," Jackson finally spoke. "How far?"
"Just a few miles up the road. You want to stretch a few minutes? You've been up there for hours " The preacher rubbed his eyes. "Father Colon isn't expecting us for an hour yet," he said of the gregarious priest, an old friend of his father's. The padre resided at Mission Santa Maria, a beautiful adobe church near La Jolla Cove. With Josiah's help, Chris arranged for the group to stay at a small guesthouse, used by visiting clergy. It was at the edge of the cove, overlooking the sapphire water and golden sand.
"I better check on Buck and Vin," He sighed and climbed down, rubbing the small of his back.
"They're sleeping, Nate, go on and take a few minutes, I got it covered," J.D. tied his horse to the back of the wagon and approached a vendor. The old man had a cart loaded with meat and cheese baked in pastry. The youth bought several, giving one to Ezra, who was seated on a bench and Josiah as well.
"Delicious," Ezra noted, biting into a colorful blend of peppers, chicken and chedder.
"Josiah?" J.D. handed the preacher one and one to the driver. He then poked his head in the back of the wagon. Buck was awake, sweating profusely in the hot wagon. J.D. eyed Vin, who wet head was plastered to his face and nestled on the rogue's shoulder. The youth made a motion to move the sharpshooter, but the other man shook his head.
"Leave him be," Buck whispered, not wishing to rouse Vin, "Get me a drink? Anything cool." He sighed and wiped his face, wincing at the pain throbbing in his leg. Where was Ezra's flask when you needed it? He was in mid-flinch, when a voice sauntered into the wagon.
"I've seen fitter corpses." The gambler leaned in gingerly and handed his silver flask to the suffering soul.
"Thanks, Ace," Buck coughed, taking a good swig. "Why we stopping?"
"Nathan needed a break, we're in the town square. It's not far to our destination, a cottage on the grounds of a large mission. It's run by a friend of Josiah's."
"Not soon enough for me, my butt's numb."
"Your brain, you mean," Ezra imparted with a grin, getting a soft laugh. He moved aside when J.D. appeared, bearing a bottle of cold water. Buck was nearly done, when Nathan's face appeared.
"I'm okay," the sore rogue managed, gently easing Vin to the other side. "Shoulder's numb... he's a heavy little bugger."
"It's all that hair!" J.D. teased.
"Josiah says it's only twenty more minutes or so, Buck. Soon as we get there, we'll get yuh cooled off and in a soft bed," the healer noted, eyeing Buck's leg.
"Alone?" Buck wrinkled his nose, then turned to the sly southerner. "Ezra... how 'bout we explore the finer drinking establishments in town tonight. I'm sure a place like this gets lots of beautiful women."
Before the gambler could reply, the healer did, "No, don't even try to argue..." he felt the heat on the skin through Buck's bandage on Buck's thigh. "After I clean this and redress it, yuh won't be in any shape to move around."
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in front of a large, Spanish style building. It was typical of the architecture of the day and it's thick walls shielded the interior from the harsh heat. There was a large wishing well out front and a tower housing an anciet bell. A small, wiry man with a kind face, brown robes and a warm smile was waiting out front. His thick brown hair streaked with white and close cut and his eyes were nearly black. He nodded to Nathan and opened his arms to Josiah. The preacher was riding on the seat next to Nate and climbed down, dwarfing his host.
"Hello Paulo, how are you?"
"I am well, old friend, and you? How long has it been?"
"Too long, fifteen years at least." Josiah pulled back. "I'd like you to meet some of my friends. This is Father Paulo Colon, he studied with my father overseas. He's travelled all over the world and for the last five years, he's called this place home." Josiah made the introductions, filling the host in on the injuries. "How far to the cottage?"
"Just down the cliff path, your wagon is too wide. I have a burro and cart that will suffice. Miguel has him ready. The cottage is fully stocked and you are welcome for as long as you wish. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask me or Father Javiar, he's in town visiting the sick today. Miguel and his wife work here, cooking and tending to the grounds. You'll meet Maria later, she's preparing a welcome feast for all of you. We'll bring it to the cottage and eat on the beach. Ah, here's Miguel now."
"Now that's what I call a cottage," Buck exclaimed as the pulled up. The sprawling bungalow was of pure heart redwood with cedar shingles. Large windows spanned the front, peeking over a wrap around veranda the covered the entire house. A cluster of steps, painted white and bearing flower pots gave the stairway to the sea a rainbow effect. At the end of the short stairway was a gorgeous expanse of golden sand kissing a cerulean sea. Gulls called overhead, swooping down at the fish in the surf. Seal lions barked from rocks clustered at the far end of the beach. The salt air was full and lusty, each breathful giving an invigorating feeling.
"A jewel, Mister Wilmington," Ezra marveled at the glorious seaside home and it's breathtaking surroundings. "an absolute treasure."
"Just inside the front entry is a large living area, a walk in pantry and huge kitchen," the priest explained. Facing the beach are three bedrooms, all with entry to the veranda. "It's quite alluring at night, the call of the sea. When the stars are out it will take your breath away."
"I don't doubt that, Padre," Buck hissed, standing for the first time all day. His arm was around Nathan's shoulders and Miguel's.
"Below ground is a wine cellar and a roman bath..."
"You're kidding!" Ezra blurted.
"No, this home was privately owned before we bought the grounds and built the mission. The owner had a home in Italy and insisted on it. It's rose marble eight feet on each side and hot water is pumped in through a generator. There's a superior drainage system that allows for easy circulation. It's quite spectacular."
"I may never leave..." Buck joked, letting the two men lead him inside. "Right there's good, thanks..." he sighed, sitting down on the edge of a large double bed. The bed next to it was a single bed. It was the largest of the three rooms, sporting a table and four chairs in one corner and a large window next to the single bed. The air that swept through the room was intoxicating. "Put him in here, Nathan!" Buck hollered, seeing Vin's body approaching. He never stirred as Nathan undressed him, cutting the soaking clothes off his body. Buck shucked his clothes, careful of the injured leg and used the large basin of cold water to clean up. By the time Nathan bathed and changed Vin, pulling a sheet up to this shoulders, he was ready.
"Hmmph!" the healer's mouth twisted, upon cutting the bandages free. The area around the thigh wound red and hot to the touch. "I'm gonna have to clean it... it's gonna hurt..." By the time he was done, Buck was ready for a painkiller. Josiah entered the room then, bearing a tray.
"Buck, you look like hell," he teased, upon seeing the pain, sweating face.
"You couldda lied," Wilmington sent back, trying to ignore the waves of burning pain in his leg, radiating to the bone. He managed to get half of the platter down, a full selection of meat, cheese, fruit and bread. He drank all of the cider, which Nathan doused. By the time Josiah and Nathan were done lunch, both patients were sound asleep.
"Go on, Nathan, you look beat, you had a long morning and a rough night. I'll keep an eye out."
"Okay," the weary and aching man agreed, 'Yuh know where to find me..."
Josiah took his bible outside onto the porch, settling into the large chair outside Vin's window. He read for awhile, casting his eyes now and again onto the sleeping Texan. He wondered what road was ahead for Vin Tanner and if he'd be strong enough to weather the storm. He watched the waves cresting the beach, listened to the gulls and felt the kiss of the sun. At the outside of his glance, the beach curled up into sandstone cliffs. If there was a place for his friends to heal, it was here.
The burnt amber and glowing orange light in his room drew his eyes open. It was nearly sunset, the departing day stroked his stubbled face as she left. He squinted, sat up and ran a hand over his rough-hewn skin. Sighing, he rose and walked to the window. The streets were crowded, spilling over with a blend of calvary and citizens. A youthful voice rose above the others and he cocked his head, then realized it wasn't J.D.Dunne. He wasn't here, none of them were. His belly burned for whiskey to fill the empty feeling inside. He didn't need a mirror to see the haggard creature that would look back . He eyed the bathhouse and gathered up his things. He needed a bottle of whiskey, a thick steak and a hot body. Tonight he wanted to lose himself, to fall into the numbness that was creeping in his bones. Tomorrow, when the sun rose, he'd follow the path to salvation, he hoped, for himself and Vin Tanner. But tonight, he would seek out other outlets to satisfy the jagged need.
An hour later, he strode from the bathhouse. He was well scrubbed, clean shaven and hungry. He entered the saloon and took a back table. The blackboard above the end of the bar listed specials. He ordered a steak, rare and bloody and a new bottle. As he ate, he heard the laughter and buzz of conversations around him. Twice he looked up, hearing a southern drawl and almost expecting to see the dusty tracker. Despite the assurances of the doctor and the support of his friends, he still worried. What if Vin never got better? What if Teheno was all he'd ever see? He stared at his hands and wondered how to use them more effectively. How do you reach inside a man's soul?
"Nothing more of a waste than a man brooding," A sultery voice slunk into his ear. Two hands followed, creeping down his collarbone from behind and under his shirt. The skilled fingers teased his chest and the the hot breath danced in his ear. A tangy, exotic almost oriental scent clung to the ripe curves pressing against his back. "...especially something as fine looking as you. Why don't bring that bottle upstairs and let Savannah Rose take those frown lines from the handsome face?"
He inhaled the scent, accepted the pliant body when he stood and she kissed him deeply. She ran her hands down the sides of his well honed chest and lightly stroked his backside. Then his urge rose, defiantly, betraying his face. Her smile came at that, revealing perfect white teeth inside a very pretty face. Two large blue eyes and a long drape of chestnut hair. She pressed against him again , her fullness spilling out over a low cut yellow garment. Right now, he needed to forget. The fire inside was stoked to high, the flames building to a powerful fury. He had a need... a hunger... a pain to squelch. He needed a body, with peaks and curves in all the right places. He needed someone to ride the night with, he didn't want to be alone.
"What'll be, Sugar?" she traced the outline of his jaw with one finger. She felt the power oozing from every lean muscle in his body, as he pressed past her. He didn't reply, he took the bottle and walked upstairs, pausing at the top to nod slightly. She followed, like a cat licking cream. She grinned boldly at her friends, who were green with envy. They were forced to smile at every sorry fondle the less that spectacular selection of male animals in the room. She'd couped a thorougbred. It would be a move she'd never regret and a night she'd never forget.
By the time the sky turned deep blue, with rose and magenta streaks, they gathered on the beach. Miguel and his wife set up two large tables, one bearing food and the other to sit and dine. A soft breeze touched down, the waves, dark and angry now, stroked the cool golden sand.
J.D. stood apart from the others, his hazel eyes following the beach up to the lighthouse. It was beautiful here, the sun reflected on the water like liquid gold. The gulls cawed and the sea lions accompanied them loudly on bass, over the pounding surf. It reminded him of Cape Cod and the summers he'd spent with his mother. So long ago...he heard a small boy laughing, tugging at a woman's hand. Like her son, she had dark hair, but here eyes were dark brown. Her accent still bore traces of her Dublin birthplace. He inhaled and watched the image fade, the little boy was long grown and the loving woman cold in the grave, much too soon.
"You okay, Son?"
"Huh?" J.D. blinked, "Oh, yeah, Josiah, just thinking of home. I grew up in Boston, not far from the Cape... it brought back some memories. My mother liked the sea..."
"She's a terrible beauty," Sanchez agreed, "Too many men disrespect her and end up in her belly."
"You sailed across the Pacific?"
"No, the Atlantic. Traveling with my father." He paused, recalling himself at the youth's age. "England, France, Spain, Italy, India, Thailand, parts of Africa and Asia. Years ago... seems like a hundred now."
"Where's you father now?"
Josiah smiled before replying. "Dining at the Lord's table... cholera... thirty years ago."
"Okay, Nate, it's fine," Buck hissed impatiently, eager to be loose. He was washed, dressed and ready to roll. "How them things gonna work on sand?" he nodded to his crutches.
"They're not." Nathan Jackson replied distracted. He paused next to Vin Tanner's bed. The slim sharpshooter hadn't moved since they arrived. "I gotta get some water in him... food too if he can tolerate it. Buck?"
"Yeah, gimme a hand," Wilmington let the taller man help him over to the chair next to Vin. He eased into it and waited.
"Vin... Vin... wake up now..." Jackson sat on the edge of the bed, facing the propped up patient. He gently tapped the slack face, until the eyebrows furrowed. "That's it... get them eyes open... I got some cold fruit juice for you. It's real sweet... Vin?" He stopped when the eyes slowly opened. The scowl lingered and the confused blues slowly went from his face to Buck's.
"Hey, Slick, how you feeling? Here, this ought to wet the whistle." Buck held the mug out and a wobbly hand took it. "Careful now, not too fast..." He paused as the eyes regarded him lazily over the top of the mug. A soft gasp concluded the drink. "Want some more?" The head nodded once and the hand shot out, handing the mug to Nathan. "How you feeling?"
"gizhaa..." He moaned, he was sure there was a spear in his head. He tried to get at it, only to have his wrist grabbed.
"Nuh-uh..." Wilmington called, "Nathan just loaded that with car... uh... medicine. It's gettin' some air. Best not to touch it. How's your stomach? You want some soup?"
What he wanted was for them to leave him alone. He didn't want to hear the kind words. It was hard to look at the mustached man's eyes and not be tempted. There was compassion there and worry. His eyes shifted to the dark-skinned man bearing a tray. He heard his brother's voice. Teheno trusted him to help this man. He wouldn't fail. He looked into those dark eyes and saw pain. "Bad visions... Na...than?" he gasped, his throat still dry.
"Not so bad, Vin, thanks," his voice was genuine. He set the tray down and pushed a small bowl of chicken broth and a gathering of crackers. Also on the tray were herbal iced tea and some more juice. "Eat what yuh can, but yuh need to try."
He lifted the spoon, despite the churning stomach. He felt their eyes on him , as he forced down a spoonful of broth. He scowled again, feeling hemmed in.
"I'm not a baby..."
"I know that, Vin," Buck said, seeing the eyes flash. Not wishing to disturb him, he shifted in the chair. "I'm gonna go get something to eat, then I'll come back. If you need anything, you just holler," he nodded to the window at Vin's elbow. The shaggy head nodded and dropped, the hand lifted the fruit juice.
Nathan got Buck to the table, where he was greeted by the others gathered. He returned inside, hoping to coax some more food into Vin. He pretended to be taking inventory on his supplies, which were on a table by the bed. He saw the tray moving and turned. The juice was down and a few spoons of soup had been taken.
"I'm sorry," Vin sighed, rubbing his eyes, "M'belly is full of jumpin' frogs again... with hot spears."
"Okay, don't force it..." He took the tray away and laid a hand across Vin's forehead. It was a little warm. "I'm gonna leave the ice tea, in case yuh want a drink."
"Na...than...I tried..."
"I know yuh did," Jackson smiled, watching the blinking eyes. "Close 'em if they hurt." He waited, easing a pillow from behind Vin to lower him a bit. "Yuh call me if yuh need me." He waited a few moments, until the injured man's lower jaw dropped a bit, parting his lips slightly. He'd been in this position long enough to know that sign. The tracker was asleep.
"Gentlemen?" Ezra's voice called and then turned, joining their friends. Chicken, fish, shrimp, many types of bread, fried potatoes, rice fried with peppers and onions, fresh vegtables and lots of fruit. So much food and pitchers of Sangria.
"Nathan?" J.D. asked, when the healer finally joined them. "Anything?"
"No," the dejected man sat down. "He's homesick and heartbroken. He didn't eat a thing, took me fifteen minutes to get a little juice in him. He's in a lotta pain, too, can't keep his eyes open, head hurt too much."
"Josiah tells us that you knew him as a younger man," Ezra broke the uncomfortable silence. Their host had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the dinner, it would be rude to ignore him. "Did you travel together?"
Father Colon told of his travels around the world. As dinner progressed, he explained of the exotic ports he'd called home. He studied in universities around the word, as he spread the Lord's message. Just as the colorful priest was engaged in an animated tale of Josiah and a stubborn bull in Spain, Buck turned to get more Sangria and wish he hadn't.
The laughter woke him up, a musical sound far to light for his heavy heart. Pain. An agonizing, boiling mess of hurt was throbbing in his skull. He smelled food. Normally, his mouth would be watering. But not tonight, he felt sick. He managed to peel his eyes open and saw a brilliant, almost turquiose sky. It only added to his heavy heart, for it was the same color as the medallion that Teheno wore. The laughter came again, carried on the salt air. The air cooled his hot face and he pulled himself up. He watched them for a few moments, then cast a curious eye to the beach. He picked up his shell and held it to his ear. His brothers words were still there, the tone matching the restless surf.
"I'll never leave you. I'll always be right here. I'm proud of you... proud... proud... never leave..."
He sighed heavily and gently placed the shell on the table. He thought on his promise to his brother. To take are of Nathan. Nathan had a terrible beast inside, Vin had seen it with his own eyes. He remembered the kind man's eyes full of pain, as they told of the broken and dead bodies he saw. He thought on the bad dreams and got an idea. He eyed the bandages on his chest and unpelled a long row. That would be enough. A strange sounding bird called in the sky and he turned to follow it. Then they laughed again and he felt a dagger in his chest. They were nice to him, but they were strangers. His family... grandmother, grandfather, uncles, aunts, his sisters and brothers were all dead. He rubbed the throbbing head and missed his grandmother's touch. She always knew how to take his pain away. His jaw trembled as the pain crushed his heart. That's when the one called Bucklin looked over at him. He saw pain in those eyes and hesitated. Then the large man's hand came up and he felt the warmth in the word spoken. .
"Vin," the name died in a whisper on his lips. For a split second, the lost Texan's face appeared in the window next to his bed. The eyes were clouded by pain, large and solemn. The face was cloaked in melancholy and longing. There was a need in those pale blue eyes; the younger man was desperately searching. Buck raised his fist over his heart. "...hainji... Vin..." he mouthed and saw the tracker repeat the physical movement, but his lips never parted.
"Buck, I'll fill that," Father Javiar, moved to get the cup lingering near Buck's hand.
"Thanks," the injured man said, darted his head to see the window. It was empty again and the wine soured in his stomach.
Vin covered his own heart and turned away. He drank a cup of the tea that Nathan left and unraveled the cotton from the bandage, beginning his gift for Nathan. His deft fingers worked well and he quickly completed his task. Feathers. He had no feather. He eyed the knife the man used to cut the bandages and cut off a lock of his hair, adding it to the gift. Happy with his job, he slipped it under his pillow. He couldn't keep his eyes open, it hurt too much. The combination of sounds: anxious waves, laughing men and calling birds should have been restful. But sleep eluded him. Not wishing to worry the kind man, his eyes drifted to the tray. He moved a little, enough to get the bowl. He ate the soup and crackers. It didn't take long to realize his mistake.
The sun was down and tiny lanterns, painted with bright colors, get the table a festive glow. Cakes, cookies and flan, with strong coffee were being digested. They'd been taking turns checking on Vin.
"I'll go," Josiah said, walking up the colorful steps to the door to Vin's room. He frowned, turning up the lamp inside the door. Vin's bed was empty and missing linen. "Vin?" He said and his nose wrinkled. "Oh no.." He moved around the bed and saw Vin sitting on the floor. If the situation wasn't so desperate, he would have laughed at the face that looked up. Like a child caught stealing. The eyes were large and fearful. The soiled linen was next to the sprawled figure.
"I tried... not t'..." Vin rasped, his face hot. "...I... I... throwed up... in... the... the... thing..." he pointed to an odd shaped bowl that had previously held fruit. "..b...b...ut... it came out... the... other way... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"I'm sorry that you got sick," Josiah said gently, taking the soiled linens and putting them in the hallway. "Vin, you didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault." He eyed the empty tray. "I though Nathan said you weren't up to eating?"
"I... he... was... worried... didn't want... Na...than... t'worry... over... me..." Vin hushed, feeling embarrased. "...can't do nothin' right... no wonder... Te..hen...o... left... me..."
So that where it was coming from. Josiah bit his lip and took a deep breath. He sat on Buck's bed and rested a hand on the slumped shoulder. "He didn't leave you, Vin. Don't lose your faith in him, without that, you have nothing."
"Faith?" Vin lifted his throbbing skull, blinking at the blurry man's leg.
"Yeah, believing with all your heart in something, when you can't see it. That feeling inside, that keeps you going, like a bright light."
"A fire..." Vin thought aloud, of the feeling he got when Teheno was gone.
"Sometimes," Josiah nodded. "as long as you feel that fire, he'll be here. You let that go out, you lose it all." He waited, gave the shoulder a pat and rose. He dunked a towel in water and handed it to Vin, watching as the younger man wiped his face. "How'd you get down there?"
"...I... took... the mess... from... the bed... I... the floor was moving... I tried..."
"It's okay, I'll get Nathan and..."
"No!" Vin panicked, jumping up and crying out when the pain hit his head, chest and leg at the same time. One strong arm got him to the chair. "No... it's my job... I can't fail... please..."
"What?" Josiah frowned, using his body to block Vin. He'd felt the hot skin when he lifted him. A fever? "...a job. What are you talking about?" He moved his head and caught Buck's eye through the window. One nod towards Nathan was all it took.
"Nate, something's wrong..." Buck tried to stand.
"Sit down!" Ezra commanded, shoving Buck's shoulders. "On two legs you're a menace."
"Josiah?" Nate strode through the door and paused. He smelled it before the eyes looked up.
"He got sick... both ways..." the preacher said. "...tried to clean it up himself and fell." He saw the alarm in the dark eyes. "He's okay... he's hot though."
"I was afraid of that," the healer moved, kneeling in front of the dropped head. "Vin?" He felt the back of the neck, it was very hot. "Damn... stomach pains still bad?" The head nodded once. "Okay, I got somethin' that'll help. Let's get yuh cleaned up." He nodded for the other man to leave, sensing Vin's discomfort. He lowered the window covering and set about fixing the situation. Finally, Vin was clean and back in bed, resting on fresh linen. Nathan bathed him in alcohol water and it helped a little. Mixing a few drops of tinture of opium in some water, he held the cup out. "This will help that mess... slow things down..." He watched as the trusting soul drank it all. He pulled the sheet, then the window covering, chuckling at the concerned faces staring in at him. He tapped Vin's watching the eyes fighting to stay open. "Yuh see that worry they're wearin', that's cause yuh're family, Vin."
Vin's half-lidded eyes went from Nathan's to the window. From the fog he was descending into, he heard his name being called. It came in different accents, some tones deeper than others. It came with the salt air and he breathed it in. He felt Nathan moving close, and fought to clear his vision.
"Yer all fuzzy..." He croaked, then heard a laugh, "'sfunny?"
"Nothin', Vin," he replied, watching the blue eyes narrowing. Then he saw the slim hand moving towards the pink shell. "Yuh want that?" He made a move to get it and paused, fingering the item next to it instead.
"It's fer... yer bad visions... t'stop 'em... ya... ya..." he stopped, he was dizzy and so tired. "...hang it... over... sleep mat... no... bad... dreams...it'll catch 'em."
"A dreamcatcher," Nate choked, eyeing the knots and carefully threaded strands of cotton, It was about four inches across and resembled a netted spider web. He'd seen them before at the Seminole Village. Usually they had feathers adorning them as well. His fingers brushed against the strands of light brown hair tied to the side. For a few moments, his chest was constricted and he couldn't speak. This Vin, a lost boy among a group of well meaning strangers, had reached out in his darkness. This Vin, who was mourning for his family and grasping at a ghost of a brother, had opened his wounded heart.
"I made it..." Vin said proudly, "it's fer... ya keep it... help... ya... fight..."
"Thank you, Vin," he said with genuine sincerity, gripping the younger man's shoulder. "Gifts from the heart, like this, are the best gifts of all. I ain't never seen the likes of it. It's beautiful, Vin."
"...ya... like it..." Vin smiled, eyes shining. "...I'm on... job... not... worry..." he sighed, his heavy eyes closing.
"Job?" Nathan cocked his head, frowning. "Must be that fever..." he carried the treasure outside, pausing to show his gift to his friends. "I think I'll take a walk." He wandered down to the rocks, watching the water rage over them. He eyed the silver moon and listened to the wind. His large hand kept the delicate gift safe, over his heart. Maybe, just maybe, Chris Larabee had found the answer to their prayers.
Like silent thieves in the night, they came and stole into his innermost thoughts. He tossed his wet head restlessly, eyes darting under pale lids. His brows drew together and his lips formed a soft moan. He didn't understand this place. It wasn't his village or the new place, the beach. It was a strange town with strange people, white people talking at him, waving and smiling. Then the image shifted to his village and his dead family. They rose up and stared at him, covered in blood and holding their scarlet-tinged hands to him.
" Gai... gai..." he called out, denying their hateful eyes. Then he saw her, his beloved grandmother. Surely she would open her arms. "Hutsi... hutsi..." he called out, stumblig on numb legs. Thunder roared and lightning split the black sky, spilling red rain. "Gaaaaiiiii..."
"Vin!" Buck sat up, hearing the earsplitting wail and shaking off his own stupor. It was the middle of a the night. He fumbled with the low lamp, turning it up and seeing the sweat covered distress on the next bed. "Shit...Nathan!" he banged the wall hard and grabbed his crutches. He made the short trip to Vin's bed, sitting on the edge. He gripped the wet shoulder, shaking it soundly."Vin, calm down, you're gonna get..." He paused as the vomit hit his chest and lap. "...sick..."
The pain in his gut exploded then, and he rid himself of the burning mass inside. It was so hot... it burned his windpipe. Suddenly, there was no more air. His eyes shot open and his worked his gaping mouth. Air. Air. Someone was holding him, speaking to him, harshly.
"You don't calm down, you're gonna choke!" Buck shook him hard, "Breathe Goddammit!" he clapped his back hard, then heard a gasping choke. "Jesus, " He sagged, holding the weakened, trembling body. "You're gonna put me in an early grave, Vin."
"What's wrong?" Nathan flew into the room and saw the answer. "Yuh okay, Buck?"
"Other than being draped in Tanner puke," Buck cringed, "He was having a nightmare, a bad one. Then he got sick and stopped breathin'." He saw blue eyes peeking through the tangled hair. "He's all shook up... and uh... him and the bed are gonna need cleanin' up..." He alluded to the unseen mess.
"Oh," Nathan sighed, "his bowel's all worked up? Hold 'im there for a minute, Buck. I'll get linens and some soap and water." He moved in, giving Buck a large mug of water and an empty bowl.
"Come on, Vin, get that head up." He chided, watching the wet, tangled mess move. "Here, I got water, rinse your mouth first." By the time Vin finished, Nathan returned.
"Okay, Buck, I'm gonna move yuh over by the table. I left warm, soapy water there and a towel. Yuh'r leg okay?"
"Fine, I didn't put any weight on it," He grunted, letting Nathan move him. "Thanks."
The fog lifted and he blinked at the surroundings. Images came back of the group of men who brought him to this place. Laughing and feasting on the yellow sand, while his heart broke. He didn't need them. He didn't need anybody. He'd find Teheno on his own. He'd... he'd... his face drew into a scowl when the stench came up and invaded his nose. He felt the flush of shame over his fever and turned away in anger, when the dark-skinned healer came.
"Gai!" Vin snarled, shoving the arm away. "Gai Gai!" He screamed when they tried to move him. He threw the cup, narrowly missing the mustached one.
"Hey, cut that out!" Buck hollered, "Nathan's trying to help you. You don't behave, I'm gonna dunk that hot head of yours in a tub of cold water!"
"Fine!" Nathan gritted, towering over the messy patient. "Yuh don't want m'help, sit in yuh'r stink. Folks tryin' to help yuh, reachin' a hand out..." he furied, "Go ahead... yuh don't want nobody, fine. I'm goin' back to bed." He turned away, walked to the door and eased just to the other side. Vin couldn't see him, but Buck could. He saw the rogue's head move from Vin to the door and back. He'd cleaned his chest and pants off and tried to stand, his eyes on Vin. "Sit yuh'r ass down, Buck Wilmington," He whispered.
"Aw, hell, Nathan, you can't leave him like that." Buck's heart went out to the huddled form on the bed, whose eyes were sad, despite the anger. He was dirty, fevered and in pain. He was lost and had a hole inside.
"Buck..." Nathan hissed through clenched teeth, until he saw the other man's shoulder's relax.
Vin was unsure of what to do. His whole body ached, especially his head, which had a fired spear in the side. His belly had the firey spear too! Poking and slashing all the way down through his intestines. He doubled up as the pain came back. He clenched his teeth and tried no to cry out. Tears of pain pooled in his eyes and a single, short grunt snuck out.
"Buck, so help me!" Nathan warned, seeing the scoundrel trying to stand.
"You got no heart!" Buck warned, not happy.
"Yuh got more heart than brains sometimes," Nate clarified, "he's gotta reach out... willingly... or it won't work."
"I don't like it," Wilmington grumbled, eyes glued to the balled up Texan, who was trying to rock the pain away.
The pain was too much, the ground was spinning around. The scenery changed again, he was near a cliff, a sheer drop with no bottom. His hot eyes raked the landscape, to fall into the unknown or... he turned his face. "Na...than... Na...than..." he reached a hand out, relaxing when the strong, dark skinned arms righted him.
"I gotcha," the wise healer pulled him back onto the bed. "Look at yuh... yuh'r a mess. How 'bout if we get yuh cleaned up? Then I'll make some tea."
"Ma...gic... t..ea...?" Vin managed, arms protecting his ravaged gut.
"Yeah," Nate eyed the mess, it went through the linens. "Buck, it's gonna need some time to dry..."
"Yeah, I guess it will," the other replied, then understood the intent. "Oh, well, I'm okay with that, just aim his mouth towards the floor." He thought for a moment as the tall man worked quickly, cleaning Vin from top to bottom. Then he saw the soiled linens beneath Vin. "On second thought, aim his ass towards the outside."
Vin never said a word, the entire time Nathan tended to him. He faded away for a little while, waking upon feeling a clean longjohns and then a soft mattress. He felt a cold cloth wiping his face and opened his eyes, as the cup came closer. He drank the sweet tea and the water that followed.
"AisheN," he whispered, over the burning red pain that was slamming from his head through his eyes. He was grateful and gave his thanks again. "AisheN... Na...than..." he whispered, training his heavy blue eyes on the healer. He grabbed the hand and gripped it, taking the warm smile as well.
"Yuh'r welcome, Vin Tanner," Nate soothed, frowning at the fever.
"You go on back to bed, Nate, you look like hell," Buck advised, distancing himself from Vin. "We'll be fine." He was on one side of the large bed, Vin on the other. The shade was raised, sending cool air onto the scrubbed bare mattress. He saw Vin's back stiffen and the body move. Nathan positioned him in a semi-raised form, sideways, facing the space between the beds. A basin was on the floor, in case he got sick. He saw the blue eyes narrow in suspicion... and something else. "What are you givin' me hairy eyeballs for?" Buck sent back, "You got a lot of nerve! You don't like this arrangment, your ungrateful butt can sleep outside, comprehende? Sharing a Wilmington's bed is an honor." He paused as Nathan cleared his throat loudly. "What? It is!" He protested at the brown eyes rolling.
"Na...than..." Vin turned back, holding his cup.
"Yuh want some more?"
"...ma...gic... for... Buck...lin... t'make sleep quieter..." Vin pleaded, "...great thunder hurts... m'head... please..."
"I don't snore!" Buck huffed, then turned to Nathan, who was chuckling. "I changed my mind. Move his sorry behind to Ezra's bed."
"Yuh got the only double," the healer shot back, watching Vin's eyes moving. "Beside, he trusts yuh..."
"Lucky me!" The mustached man commiserated, feeling the sheet and blanket moving. "Oh no... you start hoggin' them blankets and I'll put you outside."
"...not... hoggin'..." Vin snarled, "...ya take t'much..." he decided, snuggling down. "...yer not makin' thunder or stealin' warmth..."
"Oh, really!" Wilmington tugged the blankets back, "Who died and left you boss? Nathan! Nathan, get back here!"
"Goodnight Buck," The healed called out, laughing and settling in his own bed.
"Cut that out, you ungrateful weasel!" Buck shivered as his back and backside were exposed, as the blankets moved again.
"...m'not... a... weasel..." Vin protested, "...ya growl like a bear what's insides's plugged up..."
"Nice, Vin, " Buck's nose wrinkled and he grinned despite himself. "You got class, you know that? Vin ?" He leaned over, watching the jaw drop and the lips part. The eyes were closed and the chest rose and fell. "Great... it's gonna be a long night!' he shook his head, gently trying to pull the blanket from the iron-like grip.
Something woke him up. His throbbing eyes adjusted to the shadows, the small lamp was nearly out. The thunder rose behind him, filling the air. He blinked at the strange camp. There was no fire, yet he was warm. Too warm. He tossed the blanket off and as he searched for water. He sat up and inhaled as a breeze blew past. He saw a cloth floating in water and wiped his face with it. Next to the cloth was a pitcher and mug. He fumbled badly, drinking from the side of the pitcher, ignoring the overspill. Then, over the side of the pitcher, he saw two eyes glowing at him from the window.
"...kasha..." he rasped of the wolf lurking. He was dizzy, the pain in his head made his eyes blur. The camp was flying around and he sucked air in noisly. He heard the thunder behind him and shook his head, watching his friend sleep. He spotted the small knife in a pile of bandages on the table and picked it up. He smacked one arm behind him, against the older man's chest. With a hoarse whoop, he raised the knife, prepared to defend.
"Now what's wrong?" Buck snarled, feeling a hand his his bare chest. "You already got all the blankets, hell I can't even..." his words died when he saw the glint of the knife swinging above. Vin was slashing at air, but off balance. His body was tilting and the second swing tossed him dangerously sideways. "Jesus! Gimme that," he sat up and grabbed the errant wrist, ignoring Vin's babbling protest. "What? I can't understand you... speak English!"
"Wolf!" Vin choked, shoving his body in front, prepared for battle.
Buck applied pressure on the soft side of Vin's wrist and the knife fell to the floor. "No," he gripped Vin around the waist, as he moved to get the blade, "...leave it be. There ain't no wolf there." He chuckled at Vin's angry reply, the wiry body still in place, two fists raised, ready to fight. He chuckled, scrubbed a hand across his face and gripped Vin's shoulder. "Hell, that wolf probably would die laughin'..." he teased, "...your sorry ass can barely sit up... but thanks, Slick!" he gave the shoulder a pat. Vin's face was chisled in grim determination.
He took his eyes momentarily from the beast to look at his friend. What was wrong? How could he not see the beast? It's eyes were blinking right ahead! He protested again, trying to attack and found himself grabbed and sat down. He fought back.
"No... I'll kill 'im... yer hurt... I won't fail again..." Vin panted, his struggles weakening.
"Again?" Buck's voice softened, "aw, hell." He sighed, kept one arm on Vin and grabbed his gun with the other. His belt had been hanging on the bedpost. He waved the gun, watching Vin's head turn sideways. "You go on now, Git... git..." he warned the invisible beast. "See that, he's gone. You scared him good, Pard,"
"No..." Vin shook his wet head, lifting an arm. "His eyes glow in the dark... see..."
"Eyes?" Buck craned his neck, then spotting the blinking light and chuckled. "Hell, before this night is out, I may need lots of 'hibi'"
"Hibi," Vin's whole body turned, keen eyes raking the room. This made the other man laugh hard. He scrunched his face up, "...yer laughin' at me..."
"No, " Buck wiped his eyes, "No hibi... no wolf, either," he pointed to the lamp, "see that lamp? That's the same light as you see out there. It's from a big boat passin' by, signaling the lighthouse." He saw the face screw up even more and the head shake in denial.
"Yer makin' that up... there is no 'house o'light..."
"No... no... a lighthouse... it's a tall building on the beach... it sends out..." He saw the stone wall and gave up, then spotted the signal light die on the boat as it slipped away. "You're right Vin, see the wolves are gone."
"Haa!" Vin gloated, sticking his chest out. "Ya sleep now... I am... am..." he thought of the phrase he'd heard earlier. It was in head and he couldn't identify from where. "...watchin' yer back... Buck...lin..."
"Yeah," Buck chuckled again, watching the blue eyes drooping fast. "...and a right fine job you're doin'!" He eased the drowsy patient back onto his side and waited. Sure enough, the jaw dropped and the lips parted. Soft, steady breathing, a sign Vin was asleep. He pulled the sheet up and took the blanket for himself. He wished he did have 'hibi', he leg was throbbing. He eased his head back, thinking of the wobbly stand of defense Vin took against the 'wolf'. He smiled then, seeing Vin the man so clearly in Vin the boy. He yawned and joined his friend in sleep.
Vin heard the thunder again and his shoulders jumped. He peeled his eyes open, wrinkled his nose in distaste and watched the sounds come out. Then he got an idea and a slow smile formed. He knelt up, moved across the big bed and leaned over Bucklin's unprotected face. He made gagging sounds, loud and disturbing. Then he saw the eyes open and focus. He jerked his shoulders, curled his hands over his abdomen and gagged open mouth.
"Shit!" Buck hissed in cold panic. Vin was about throw up on his face. "What the hell are you doing? Get away... Nathan left you a bowl..." Then he saw the 'act' dissolve and the 'actor' erupt into a good belly laugh. The blue eyes were crinkled in mirth and the tone of the boyish laughter was one he'd never heard. It was contagious, and he let himself get lost in that sound. This was a picture of Vin he'd never seen. A glimpse beyond the pain; a peek past the careful wall built around himself. It was a great sound and he enjoyed the prankster. He thought of Teheno and how, despite the 'fireants in the breeches' at times, he must have cared deeply for the boy Vin. "You think that's funny?"
"Haa!" Vin nodded, his face animated and wearing a devilish grin. "Bucklin... quivers like a young maid." He mimicked the action he'd seen and exaggerated, then laughed again, grinning at himself.
"Proud o'yourself?" Buck laughed, it was impossible not to.
"Haa!" Vin boasted, raising an eyebrow, "It stopped the thunder..."
"I don't snore!"
"Yes... ya do!" Vin replied, settling back on his side against a wall of pillows. The laughter had caused his injured ribs to rebel and he struggled for air. His eyes grew large and he fisted the sheet. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Easy now, in through your nose and out through your mouth," Buck coached, seeing the pain-riddled features. "That's better..." he repeated, watching the face tightened. One hand lifted to touch the injured head. "Hurts huh?"
"Haa... Haa..." Vin rasped, breathing as instructed, until his eyes grew heavy. "Buck...lin..." he sighed, "...thank..." he managed, before he passed out.
"You're welcome, Vin," he spoke softly, watching the new day being born outside. No sense going back to sleep now. He sat up and reached for his shirt and then his crutches. He carefully made his way outside. He was letting the young sun bake his face, when he smelled coffee. One eye peeled open and he took the offered mug. "Thanks..."
"You sleep good?" J.D. asked his friend, while gazing at the ocean.
"One of us did," Buck yawned, sipped his coffee and peered into the room. Nathan was changing Vin's dressings. The younger man never stirred. "Between being thrown up on, attacked by wolves and then by a Tanner..."
"Wolves?" Nate turned, eyebrows crossed.
"He panicked, woke up and saw the signal lights from the boats passin' by... thought it was wolves." Buck pronounced, "tried to protect us... damn near fell outta the bed. " He turned irritated aiming his displeasure at the healer. "Which reminds me, you gotta move them knives... he found one. I woke up and saw it slicing the air, he almost went with it. Move 'em away from that pile of medicine and bandages." He grumbled, "barely got settled in again and sleepin' when that little weasel pretended he was getting sick again."
"...ya shook like a young maid..." Vin repeated, turning his sleepy eyes to the window and smiling. "Mornin' Bucklin..."
Buck opened his mouth to correct Vin's assessment, but the unarmed face took his guard away. He smiled back, shook his head and surrender. "Hey Vin... sleep good?" He teased.
"...the thunder was great... I think it upset m'belly..."
"It did no such thing!" Buck protested, over his friend's laughter. He watched Nathan help Vin into some clothes. "Hey Nathan, can't he come out here and eat with us?"
"Don't see why not... fresh air's good for 'im." He guided the barefooted patient through the door. "Yuh stay outta the sun, it's nice and shady here on the porch, yuh understand?"
"Yeah," Vin marveled, eyeing the great expanse of water. "Where does it go? How... is it... there?" He stammered, overcome by the power of the ocean.
"It goes to the South Pacific Islands, Asia, uh..." J.D. frowned, trying to remember, "uh... Australia and other countries."
Nathan watched Vin listening intently to J.D. as the younger man explained other things about the ocean. He was glad that Vin didn't seem so heartsick today. Maybe a part of him was 'growing up. Erza and Josiah arrived, along with Miguel and a large tray of food. They sat on the porch and ate heartily of the eggs, corn fritters, fruit, sausages and cheese. Vin had oatmeal and tea and managed to finish half of it. Nathan watched his eyes drift to the sea now and again and a sadness fill them, a terrible longing. He knew that look, the laughter the men shared reminded him of his lost brother. He rose to get more coffee and gave Vin's shoulder a small tug.
He saw alone in the hotel dining room. The coffee was strong and he'd need it today. His well groomed body, complete with a new sage green shirt, betrayed the inner anxiety he felt. His pale green eyes shifted, eyeing the empty streets. Dawn just broke, they'd be filling up soon. Too many bodies, too many voices, too many blue uniforms and bad memories. He nodded as the waitress approached, indicating the special offered on the blackboard would be fine. He was hungry, starving actually. His animal like lust the night before left him ravenous. He'd been overly generous with the pretty girl, she'd earned ever piece of silver. He thought on the road ahead and worry line snuck onto his face. What would this new day bring? He was riding to San Diego in a few hours, hoping to find salvation in the salt air.
"Chris?"
He looked up, blinking away his distracted thoughts and saw the older man standing a few feet away. "Major," he nodded to the empty chair. "coffee?"
"Thanks," the other man moved, "...and it's Tom," Kelly replied. "I stopped by the clinic, but your friends are gone."
"Left yesterday morning for San Diego," He sipped his coffee. "Be good for Vin and Nate... I hope."
"How is your friend? I spoke with the doctor, he sounded hopeful."
"Hope's all we got," Chris supplied, eyeing the guilt on the other man's face. "Tom, it's not your fault."
"Isn't it, Chris? I wonder." He paused, sipping his coffee. "All the things I could have done differently. Instead of a hate filled monster, I could... should have a son I could be proud of... like young Tanner."
"Hindsight's everything, Maj... Tom." he corrected, "We all got regrets. I lost a wife and child in a fire, while I was away. They were murdered," his whiteknuckled the cup, gritting through his clenched teeth. "If I had come home a couple days earlier... they'd still be alive... maybe." He paused, "Neither of us can change what's happened. I can tell you bitterness isn't the answer, I've lived that and I don't intend to go back." He shifted his chair as the sun's rays shot through the room. "Every new day brings hope, Tom. Your boy, he's at peace now, with his mother. Let him rest, grieve for your loss and move forward. Take it from me, reliving it every day will kill you in pieces and that's a pain worse the Hell."
Major Kelly looked at the young man with deep admiration. Despite the horrific actions his son had done, going back several years, there was nothing but forgiveness on the calm features. Was Chris Larabee right? Should he grieve and move on, forgetting the hateful acts his son had done?
"Maybe you're right, Chris," he sighed, "My youngest sister lives in Charleston. Her husband died suddenly earlier this year. She's got four little ones she's trying to raise alone. The baby's only three..." His voice trailed off. "I've got enough years in, I could retire, perhaps get a teaching position at the university."
"I can't think of a better set of hands to guide those kids," Chris said honestly, watching the surprise on the other face. "It sounds like a perfect fit."
"Thank you, Chris, you have no idea how much you've helped me."
"You saved my... mine and Vin's lives at the greatest sacrifice a man can endure, Tom. I'll always be grateful." He waited and the other man stood. He extended his hand and they shook. "Good luck to you, Tom."
"Thanks, Chris," he paused, "I hope your friend gets well. Tell him how sorry I am..."
"He knows, Tom and he's not angry at you. Have a safe trip home."
"Home," Major Thomas Kelly thought on that words and an image of the four laughing youngsters who climbed all over him last Christmas in his sister's house came to mind. Suddenly, home had a name, a five faces.
Orrin joined Chris for breakfast, sliding a wire over. Chris read Josiah's note and nodded.
"I've been to La Jolla, it's beautiful," Orrin attested. "If anyplace can provide a healing atmosphere, it's there. Speaking of which," his wise eyes saw the pain etched in the green ones across from him. "You need to heal too."
"I'm fine."
"You lose at poker too," he smiled, watching the other man's lips rise. "Go to San Diego, Chris and heal. You can't carry the load alone, Son, your shoulders aren't that broad. I heard Josiah call what you men have a 'circle of light'. That's what you all need now..."
"Strength in numbers?"
"Yes, it's been the backbone of most successful battles, this one is no different. Share the burden, Chris. Let Vin help you." He saw the head turn and the sharp feature zone in on him. "Yes, you need him as much as he needs you, maybe more. Go and find your peace, Chris."
For several moments, he didn't speak. He ate his meal, left money and stood. The judge rose too and they walked to the door. Chris was packed and ready to go, his fine black horse waiting. He eased into the saddle, pulled the brim of his flat hat down and grabbed the reins. Finally, he turned to the older man.
"Orrin, them folks that appoint judges," he paused, lifting one lip up, "They know their shit."
"Eloquence is your strong suit," Travis returned with a warm smile, "and I reckon they do at that, Chris." They shared a cocky grin and with one dip of the black hat, he watched Chris Larabee ride away.
Lunch had been enjoyed and they were basking in the sun. Josiah was reading, Buck, J.D and Ezra were playing cards. Nathan was talking with Father Paulo about his travels. Vin was sleeping on the porch in a long chaise. Buck was the first to notice. He smiled, tossed his cards down and grinned.
"Hey, look whose here!"
Vin's head popped up and he jumped up, staggering as the floor began to move. He followed Buck's eyes to the interior of the room. He was dizzy and moved to quickly. His eyes adjusted to the light and he stumbled into a hard body. He saw green cloth and felt strong hands righting him.
"Slow down."
He heard the voice and stared hard. A stranger with a strong face, yellow hair and pale green eyes looked back at him. He brushed by him angrily, nearly running into the room. It was empty. He cried out in frustration, throwing an empty basin at the wall. He ran to the hallway door and looked through. Empty. Empty. Empty. He ranted all the way back through the room, shoving past the stranger to glare with hostility at Buck.
"Ya... lied... ya... ya... said he was here...." He accused, chest tight and eyes filling. "Teheno... ain't here... ya lied..."
"Aw, shit!" Buck closed his eyes briefly, before meeting the angry sky eyes a few feet away.
"Vin, Buck didn't..." Ezra started to defend, only to have the rogue's hand silence him.
"I'm sorry, Vin. I'd never hurt you, you know that." He said softly, over the pain in his heart. "I didn't mean Teheno, I meant Chris Larabee, he's one of us... a friend. He's a good man, a good friend. I'm sorry..."
Chris stood by awkwardly, not sure of what to do. He moved towards Vin, watching Nathan rise and stride over as well. The two men flanked their crestfallen friend, watching a strange metamorphosis. He lifted his head, inhaled the salt air and let the breeze take his hair back from his face. He stared at the ocean, the gulls, the rocks and then every face. In a shadow of a voice, wistful and tinged with profound sorrow, he spoke.
"He's not comin' back fer me..." Vin's voice was distracted but strong. "I've lost... him... Oh God..." His hot eyes went to the ocean's edge and he moved, an urge rising.
In his expanse of years, Chris Larabee had suffered many blows. He'd been beaten, shot, stabbed and near drowned. He fought five years in a bloody war and seen sights no man should witness. He buried good friends without the luxury of a final farewell. He'd buried the two most precious things God saw fit to gift him with, Sarah and Adam. Now, he felt a new pain, it was hard and cold. He fisted both hands, not knowing how to fight this foe. He needed physical, to strike out, to feel the weaker flesh give beneath his mighty grip. One look in those lost blue eyes and the echoes of the sad refrain of the words in his ears, took every bit of strength from his body. He blinked as the voice broke through again and a slim hand rested on his elbow.
"Mister... Mister..." Vin rasped, "'scuse me..."
"Huh?" Chris blinked, not even feeling Nathan gently move him, so Vin could get past.
Vin eyed the fruit in the bowl and grabbed a bunch of deep purple grapes. He staggered in the uneven sand, not feeling the pain shooting up his healing leg. The fire in his head was nothing compared to the one in his heart. He stopped when the water was lapping at his toes. He dropped to his knees, crushing the fruit in his fingers. As the pain in his heart fought forth, he raised his wet eyes skyward, while his fingers marked his face.
"Let me go," Chris said in a low lethal voice, shaking off the healer's arms.
"Leave it alone, Chris," Nate warned, eyeing Vin in the distance. "leave 'im be..."
"Don't fuckin' tell me what to do!" Larabee growled, "Mister? Did you hear that. Not Chris... or Teheno... I'm a fuckin' stranger. Mister!" He kicked the wall, snarling and gripped his hips.
"Yes, you are," Ezra rose and winced, his back flaring up. He moved closer, keeping a safe distance between them. "He didn't see Teheno, Chris, that's the first step."
"Hell, Chris, we've all heard how much that boy loved Teheno. A part of that was what you did for him. Back in the desert and later in town." Buck added, seeing the agony in his oldest friend's face.
"By becoming Teheno," Nathan picked up the emotional baton, "Yuh answered some questions that he's been totin' inside for years. All them 'what if's. What did Teheno think when he rode back and found his family slaughtered? Was he angry at Vin? Disappointed? Worried? Yuh gave him back part of his soul, Chris. That's a damn fine thing."
"It's not enough..." Chris pained, watching Vin's arms rise. He closed his eyes when the grief stricken voice rose above the roar of the tide. Vin's was rocking on his knees, one fist beating against his heart. His jagged broken voice was painfully wounding every man who watched. It was a prayer on some kind, the words were strange but the tone was crystal clear. He was in deep mourning.
"No," Josiah stood, blocking Chris.
"Move." The words slithered through the clenched jaw, the eyes were like green coals, but the preacher stood his ground.
"No," Sanchez repeated. "Chris, he don't know you. You're a stranger. Put yourself in his place. How'd you feel if some stranger accosted you the day you buried Sarah and Adam, before you were done saying goodbye"
"That's different!" Larabee flared, unable to bear Vin's tormented body and exploding heart.
"No, it's not," Nathan stood by Chris. "Give him his time, Chris. Yuh been there... yuh know what he's feelin'. He's gotta let go, grieve, mourn, pray and then... then we'll be there to catch him when he falls."
So he waited and watched as Vin endured unending waves of grief. The water washed over his knees and legs. With every ebb of the tide, his voice grew weaker. The agonizing wails dissolved into shuddering sobs and then unearthly silence.
Vin finished his prayer, keeping his wet eyes trained on the sky. He felt his tears mixing with the sticky purple marks on his face. He beat his fist to his heart and rocked, his voice full of crashing lament. They appeared in the mist, rising above the mighty waves. His grandmother, grandfather, aunts, uncles.... Bazi, with her new son at her breast. His jaw quivered, he reached one hand out, his heart exploding in need and desperation.
"Gai... gai..." he pleaded. He knew it was time for them to go and he must stay behind. He closed his eyes as surrendered into his grandmother's embrace. He felt her move within him, leaving her strength and love as she stroked his heart. Then, they were gone and he was totally and utterly spent. The cold, numbing sensation that filled him was worse than the pain. He chest heaved, fighting for air. He lifted his beloved shell to his hear, pressing it close.
"Teheno... Te..he...no... gai... gai.... GAI!" He screamed, the voice was gone. His brother was lost to him forever. That was the mortal blow, lancing his heart and ripping his soul to pieces. His limbs gave way and he collapsed on the sand. The rough, course grains mixed with his salt-streaked face. His fingers curled in the mud, as he took another shuddering breath.
As soon as Vin went down, Chris moved. Suddenly, the empty helplessness he'd felt just moments before was gone. In it's place, a surging sense of resolve. A map appeared, a course with direction and purpose. His had one mission and it stood so very clear before him... and nobody would stop him. He straighted up, eyed the men who stood before him, then the others, before staring hard at Nathan Jackson. He knew how the other man had been sheltering Vin from the storm and he was grateful, but the time had come to change shifts.
"I'd never hurt him," the blond said quietly, taking off his hat and gunbelt.
There was something in the voice that made Nathad nod and move. A steely purpose, a well-honed glint in the eye and a gnawing need in the strong chest. He nodded, gave the broad shoulder a pat of confidence and let him go. Ezra moved his hand deftly, pressing the flask to Chris's palm. Chris nodded and gave the other man his hat and gun. Then he moved through the sands of time to gather up the broken pieces of the fragile soul.
The playful foam from the waves dissolved as the water retreated. He eyed the ocean, the sandy terraces that dotted the tidepools and saw a movement beneath the clear water. Above the fine strands of kelp was a whole other world of sea life. Starfish, eels, rays and scores of other inhabitants of Neptune's mighty world were thriving. A school of brightly colored fish swam by, eager to arrive at their desination. It was timeless, quiet, fragile and beautiful; much like the eyes of the lost soul before him.
He paused by Vin's side, engulfed by the utter and complete surrender in the sand. The body seemed to have lost all it's bones. The sullen face pressed to the sand was void, blank and lost. The eyes, those eloquent gifts of sky blue, which he could read so very easily, were barren. He waited several moments and saw the twin blues slide slightly, regarding him.
"My name's Chris, Vin, I'd like to help you."
Vin didn't move. He tasted another mouthful of salt water as the tide died by his face. His fingers continued to cling to the mud, holding on to what had been. His eyes moved from the penetrating green gaze to the muddied pink shell in his hand. His lip quivered, his heart ached and he studied every single grain of sand on the shell. His eyes moved again and saw a pink palm. An open hand, an offer of kindness and much more. He followed the hand up the green cloth and to the face. Compassion, hope and faith hit him hard. Most of all one word form. He heard it screaming from the green eyes in prayful hope.
"...trust me..."
A feeling so intense came over him, it took his breath away. He was paralyzed by it; his limbs tingling with amazement. He couldn't tear himself from that strong face and those mezmerizing green eyes. He was torn in half... his heart was shivering. He tore his gaze away and his wet eyes fell to the shell again. He took several deep breaths, each one less shaky then the prior and one by one, his sticky fingers uncurled. With one final, eternal lingering look, he dropped the shell, flinching and crying out as it hit the sand. Then he lifted the shaking, muddy fingers to this man who was no stranger and never woule. His heart told him so.
Chris watched the wet head lift and looked far beyond the running, purple streaks in the face. He'd ridden with Vin Tanner through fire fights, gun battles and against incredible odds. He'd seen every side of Tanner courage, in every shape, size and form. He was never prouder of his best friend, his 'brother' than at this moment. He knew just what that shell represented and how much raw courage it took to let it go. The dull, blank blue eyes were now shining with faith and the muddy paw offered was reaching out in hope. He took the hand and all that went with it, hauling his brother on the road to salvation with him.
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