The small room felt isolated, and Buck resisted the urge to look out the window to see if the world still existed. He and JD had followed Carl Thompson -- wanted murderer -- to this small shack, with the bold assurance they could take him. Sure, the man was evil, known to have murdered dozens of innocent men and women with his bare hands, but what they lacked in brawn, JD and Buck more than made up for in stealth and cunning.

Or at least, that’s what JD had said.

His thoughts were jerked back to his immediate predicament when Thompson yelled at him from across the room. "Do it, Wilmington, pick up the gun."

Buck hesitated, his hand inches above the weapon lying atop the old table. Boards rotten with neglect creaked under his feet when he adjusted his weight. He knew the twisted way Thompson’s mind worked, so he had an idea of what was expected once the gun was in his hand. While he judged the sacrifice worthy, he wasn’t sure he had the guts to go through with it. Could he give his life for another?

Thompson’s knuckles whitened around the knife he held pressed to JD’s gut. The tip of the blade pierced the young man’s clothes. A red spot appeared shockingly vibrant against the kid’s light brown vest.

Buck shivered. Brown, everything was brown. The derelict cabin smelled of mold and rot, and stains darkened the old walls and floor like haphazard patches of paint. Sunlight dulled by grimy glass shined bravely through the one-room cabin’s lone window at Thompson’s back, outlining the man’s broad shoulders in golden highlight. The square of muted sky looked beautiful – robin egg blue, not a cloud to mar the pristine canopy.

JD gasped and Buck’s attention was brought brutally back inside the cabin. ‘My god! What am I doing! I’m killing JD.’ Shame burned inside his gut. He locked mournful eyes with his friend across the room and quietly whispered an apology. "I’m so sorry."

Thompson’s arm tightened around JD’s neck as if in answer to Buck’s sorrow. The kid took a choked breath and his eyes squeezed shut. He kicked out, trying to find his balance, and his boot thumped dully against something. Buck glanced down to see JD’s hat lying on the floor where it had been knocked off in the initial struggle with Thompson.

Echoes of their entrance into the cabin bounced through Buck’s mind, and he clenched the hand he held over the table into a fist.

JD glanced over his shoulder at him, a smile of triumph stretching his youthful features wide. He gestured with his chin toward the open door. "It’s okay, Buck. I hear him snoring. Just follow me."

"I’m getting tired of this," Thompson snarled, his face growing red with anger. "What you waitin’ for? Pick up the gun, Wilmington, or I’ll kill the kid now." Adding unnecessary incentive to his command, Thompson twisted the blade, digging shallowly into his victim’s body.

The material of JD’s vest twisted with the blade, tightening into a spiral of brown before slicing under the knife’s point. JD stretched back, an obvious effort to escape the weapon, and his movements opened the cut in his vest and shirt. Pale flesh shown through and contrasted sharply with the dark glitter of steel.

Buck swayed forward but didn’t draw closer, knowing better than to rush Thompson. His face furrowed with emotion when JD’s mouth fell open and the kid sucked air in with a groan but didn’t open his eyes.

"You’re trying my patience, mister." The muscles in Thompson’s arm shifted and bulged beneath the skin of his forearm and he tightened his hold, pulling back hard on JD’s neck. The young man bowed against his tormentor’s body and rose to his toes, trying to ease the pressure around his throat. Thompson’s hand clenched tighter around the knife and he changed the angle of his wrist.

Fear froze the words in his throat and Buck choked, then opened his hand over the table and groped for the gun. His eyes stayed on Thompson and JD and when he finally felt the barrel’s cool metal under his palm, he grabbed it quickly. Trembling with rage and fear for JD, he held it up for Thompson to see.

"Look, I picked it up. Don’t hurt him." He spoke softly but urgently, as if to a frightened animal, but his attention was nailed to JD. The youth’s mouth hung open and wheezing breaths strained through his clenched throat.

Thompson grunted and loosened his hold, allowing JD to drop back to his feet. JD’s loud gasping breaths filled the room. The young man stood with both hands clasped around Thompson’s forearm but his palms barely spanned half the width of the heavily muscled limb. He looked small and vulnerable in the huge man’s arms.

"Good." A feral grin stretched Thompson’s ugly face wide. "Now place the gun against your temple."

"No--" The word strangled out of JD and Thompson merely flexed his arm. JD coughed, and Buck barely held himself in check when he saw the young man’s knees wobble.

"No talking, kid. Wouldn’t want you to distract Wilmington here from what he has to do."

The gun felt so cold and heavy in his palm. ‘Death. I’m holding death.’ A strained chuckle worked its way out of his mouth and he ignored the sneering look on Thompson’s face. ‘Depends on how you look at it, a course. My death, or JD’s life.’

Buck clenched his hand around the revolver’s handle and slowly lifted it up to his temple. He nearly flinched when cold metal touched warm skin. Swallowing hard, he lowered his head to hide the trembling of his chin and glared at Thompson. Trying not to think about the weapon or the destruction he held in his hand, he shifted his eyes to JD and concentrated on the young man’s face.

JD’s eyes opened, and he looked at Buck with fear-twisted features, tears welling in his eyes. He blinked, and Buck watched the moisture squeeze from the corner of one eye to start a wet trail down the side of JD’s face. Though his hand began to tremble, Buck’s determination never wavered. He had made his decision.

’My life for yours, kid.’ He wished he had the courage to say the words out loud, but he didn’t want the sanctity of the vow stained by Thompson’s presence. The criminal would probably sneer and laugh at the statement, robbing it of the fierce love and devotion it carried.

"Now, pull the trigger and I’ll let the kid go. If you don’t, I’ll stick your friend here, and he’ll be dead before you can get to him."

Buck saw Thompson adjust the knife, moving the blade tip from JD’s gut to the young man’s chest. Harsh reality cleared his head. As soon as he pulled the trigger, Thompson would plunge the knife under JD’s ribs, angling up to the young man’s heart and killing him instantly. The nightmare image played out in his mind and he gripped the gun harder to keep from dropping it.

He looked away from JD for a moment to glare at his enemy. Scenarios played through his mind, each one discarded and a more daring plan taking its place. Buck ran his tongue along his lip, desperation becoming a rising bubble of recklessness in his gut. However, one look in Thompson’s eyes stole his tension, and he felt himself wilt with defeat.

When it became clear there was no way to save JD, helplessness hollowed out his heart, leaving his soul empty. At least they could die together. He tightened his finger on the trigger, a silent plea of forgiveness in his heart. He kept his eyes open, hoping JD would turn away at the last minute.

"Buck! No!" Buck watched in frozen horror as JD let go of the thick forearm around his neck and wrapped both hands around Thompson’s huge fist over the knife. With a strained grunt, the young man doubled over, giving Buck a clear target.

Thompson glanced down in shock, then his head snapped up. Buck recovered a heartbeat before the criminal and whipped the revolver around to shoot. A small hole blossomed in Thompson’s forehead and his eyes widened in surprise. He released JD and fell backwards, dead before he hit the floor.

JD sank to his knees. The knife fell from his hands and clattered to the floor. He began to crumple forward...

Buck shook himself out of the trance of watching Thompson die. He rushed forward and caught JD with gentle hands and eased him to the floor. He cradled JD’s head as it lolled weakly to the side and angrily shoved the knife across the floor with his other hand.

Blood soaked through the front of JD’s clothes and he pressed his palm to the kid’s belly where the weapon had penetrated. Anguish kept him from lifting the shirt and looking at the wound to see how serious it was. He gently squeezed the back of JD’s neck, offering comfort in any way he could.

"Easy, son, I’ve got you." Speaking seemed to break through the paralyzing fear surrounding him.

JD moaned and Buck smiled weakly as he opened his eyes. Tears fell in crooked wet paths down the young man’s face and Buck noticed with dull detachment as his own tears fell. JD moaned again and shifted in his arms and Buck carefully wiped away the young man’s tears with the back of his free hand. JD opened his mouth but only a whispering groan strained out.

"Shhh, kid, it’s okay now." Buck smoothed the ever unruly dark hair back. His voice broke with his heart and he was unable to keep his raw emotion inside. "Aww, JD, why’d you do it?" Keeping his eyes on his friend, he deftly pulled his bandana from around his neck and bunched it up before pressing it over the wound. JD flinched with the pressure against his belly and gasped.

Buck grimaced in sympathy. Moving gently, he slid his hand from the kid’s neck and slipped his palm under his back to ease the limp body up, tilting him slightly off the floor.

JD’s eyes shut tight and he stiffened in the older man’s arms. " – Buck --" The name was a gasp of pain.

"Hang on, kid. Just hang on for me, okay? Nathan and Josiah should be right behind us. Don’t you let go." His emotions swelled, but Buck reined them in.

"Buck." His name was spoken again but this time it was soft, like a prayer. JD seemed to find a rhythm to breathe and his body settled against Buck’s, shifting into his embrace. "I – can’t --"

"No, I won’t let you die. You weren’t meant for self-sacrifice. That’s my job, ya hear?" A smile attempted to form on his face, but didn’t quite make it. Lines deepened on his brow and around his mouth as his face transformed into a mask of despair. JD’s eyes opened and Buck pushed the despair aside, pasting strength on his face, though the fit was uncomfortable. JD would live as long as Buck willed it. He had to.

"For you, Buck."

"I know, son, I know. You turned it around on me, didn’t you? I was supposed to be the one to save the day, not the other way around."

JD tensed and his back arched against Buck’s arm.

"Hang on, JD. I’m asking you not to leave me, okay? I need you to stay with me. Please."

JD opened watery eyes. His struggle to relax pulled at Buck and the older man felt tears refill his eyes. "Whatever . . . you say . . .."

The pounding thunder of horses riding in fast broke the unbearable tension, and Buck bowed his head in relief. Finally, Nathan was here. He bent forward to lay his cheek against JD’s forehead. The contact felt good, felt right. As if he’d completed a circuit, he felt the power of their friendship flowing through his body into JD’s, then through his own again. Noise clamored into their little illusion of solitude when their friends arrived, and then Nathan carefully took over tending to JD.

**************

JD began to shiver where he lay on the bed. Bare from the waist up his pale skin glistened in the flickering candlelight. A folded cotton cloth lay against his belly. Blood had soaked through the center and Nathan removed it and replaced it with an unsoiled folded cloth square.

They'd ridden most of the remaining day to reach town and all the men could sense the urgency in Nathan's unusually curt attitude. Buck stepped quickly to the bedside. He glanced up at the healer, then down at JD. He'd removed his hat and the wavering light accented his frown, throwing harsh shadows across his kind face.

Nathan's voice broke through the eerie silence. "I'm ready to start stitchin', Buck. He's gonna feel this and it's not gonna be good."

Buck looked up. His throat worked when he swallowed hard. Forgoing the chair, he braced himself on the bed and knelt on the floor. He looked down at JD and reached out to put one hand on the kid's sweaty forehead.

Chris walked silently around to the other side of the bed and sat down. The mattress dipped under his weight when he leaned over and pressed both hands against JD's shoulders. Josiah joined them and braced the kid's hips. Vin and Ezra hovered like clouds, faces filled with worry. Vin held his hat in his hands, twisting the brim nervously. His friends didn’t miss the unusual loss of control. They were all worried about JD.

Nathan held up his needle. He knotted the end of the cat gut thread then moved closer to his patient. Sweat stood out on his upper lip and he swiped it away with one knuckle. "Hold him, boys." He bent over JD and removed the bandage. Blood glistened wetly from the slash in his belly. The deep color accentuated the paleness of the kid's skin. His body moved as he moaned and Buck pressed his lips together, sharing in the anguish JD was obviously suffering.

Nathan pinched one end of the wound closed. He thrust the needle into the raised flesh and pulled the thread through. JD quivered under his touch. His body stiffened and arched slightly off the bed but otherwise remained still under their hold. Nathan worked quickly, puncturing the needle through JD with precision, neat and fast. The kid groaned, then hissed a breath in through his teeth. His turned his head to the side and bent one arm to grab the pillow near his head. He brought one knee up, restless with the constant pain, and bumped Nathan's elbow. Nathan simply moved closer, and Ezra reached out to gently push JD's leg down.

With a final knot, Nathan finished and stepped back to study his handiwork. A neat row of stitches closed the gap in JD's stomach. An outline of angry red, puffy skin surrounded the stitching. The healer reached for another bandage. He lay the cloth gently against the injury, then quietly asked Chris to hold it there. The dark gunslinger complied, his face grim with worry. Buck carefully lifted JD's upper body from the bed, allowing Nathan to wrap a long length of cloth around the kid to keep the bandage in place.

JD settled back to the mattress with a deep sigh. His eyes remained closed and he crossed his arms over his chest, shivering in the room's cold air. Buck reached for the quilt at the foot of the bed and pulled it up to cover his friend.

"Will he be all right?" Chris' question echoed everyone's thoughts.

They watched as Nathan nodded. "Long as we can keep that wound from gettin' infected, he'll be just fine."

"I'll sit with him."

Nathan nodded again at Buck's offer. The men stood for a long time, not moving, just watching the still figure on the bed, realizing how close they'd come to losing one of their own.

****************************

Buck sat in a chair that was as familiar to him as his saddle. He hated to think of Nathan’s clinic as a second home, but sometimes it seemed he spent just as much time there as he did anywhere else. Wherever JD was, that’s where he was needed, so in the clinic he sat. His butt had grown numb with the hours of inactivity, but he didn’t move, mesmerized by the calm solitude of JD’s face. The young man rested flat on the bed; a pale waif, washed out by pain, waiting to heal. He’d endured long hours of pain while Nathan repaired the torn flesh. Now he was stitched up and left to mend. His body had been fixed, though true healing from the deep wound would take weeks. Buck waited to tend to his spirit, knowing he could heal the tortured hole left by the ravages of JD’s attempted offering, given time.

This self-sacrificing just would not do. He’d have to point that out to JD and help him understand it wasn’t in his job description as one of the seven. That fell under the big brother’s duties, listed somewhere between dodging gunfire to save innocent bystanders and going the extra mile to save a friend. He’d use logic, passion, and finally resort to begging if need be, to get his point across.

’Dammit! You’re too young to do something like this, JD.’ Thoughts churned in his mind as he held an imaginary conversation with his friend. In his head, JD nodded solemnly, finally agreeing with Buck’s greater wisdom and vast experience, promising he’d never put his life in jeopardy again. Buck grinned at the fantasy, then closed his eyes, breathing a soft prayer that it would be true, not just make believe.

A soft sound electrified him, tingling his scalp with hope. JD. He opened his eyes and leaned forward, reaching out to touch the young man’s hand.

"JD?" Buck breathed whisper soft, not wanting to disturb, but hoping his friend was awake. He’d been drifting in and out for a couple of hours now, more than twenty-four hours after Nathan had finished bandaging him. The self-appointed doctor had assured Buck this would happen. The kid’s body had shut down, allowing nothing but sleep into his world. The dark head shifted slightly on the thin pillow. JD opened and shut his mouth a few times, as if testing the air. Finally his eyelids fluttered and slit open, revealing two thin strips of hazel. A moan disguised as breath slipped between his lips.

"It’s okay, JD. I’m right here. You’re home."

"Buck?" Another breath, quiet and slow.

"Yeah, it’s me, kid. Just go back to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

JD’s eyes closed. His chest rose with a sigh, then his breathing evened out as he drifted back to sleep. His sleep shirt was bunched over the bulky padding of the bandages around his middle. Buck stood up and shook out the blanket folded at the foot of the bed and spread it over his friend carefully. He resumed his watch, settling back into the chair.

"Sleep, JD. We’ll discuss your job description when you wake up." Buck scooted the chair closer to the bed, so he could reach out comfortably and rest his hand on JD’s arm. Soothed by the presence of his friend, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes to join him in sleep.