AU - Drama

Rating: PG

Notes: Thanks to LaraMee for the quick beta.

Chris Larabee stumbled into his dark office, not bothering to turn on the overhead lights. Instead, he sat at his desk and flipped on the small desk lamp. As the dim light flooded the room, he gasped when he realized that someone else was in the room with him. He almost had his gun drawn when he recognized Vin sitting in a chair against the wall. He dropped his hand away from his pistol, then ran it through his hair as he tried to look anywhere but at the Texan's accusing blue eyes.

"You gotta stop going off on your own, Vin. We're a team, Tanner, and that means we stick together. Ya don't have to do everything alone, Vin." The sharpshooter's voice was bland but there was a fire in his eyes. "Does any of that sound familiar, cowboy? When are ya gonna start taking your own advice?"

The blond grimaced, partly from the censure in the Texan's words and partly from the pain in his abdomen that had been bothering him for over an hour. He ignored the pain, unwilling to deal with it and Vin's words at the same time. "I didn't have time to call anyone, Vin. This was a last minute meeting with my snitch, and he wouldn't put it off."

Vin snorted, moving in the chair until he was sprawled with one leg hanging over the arm. "Seems to me I've said that before, and you wouldn't take it. Guess the rules are different when it's you we're talkin' about."

Chris glared at the sharpshooter, his pain and exhaustion making his already short temper even shorter. "I'm not in the mood for this, Tanner. Just leave me the hell alone."

The Texan was unaffected by the blond's angry snarl. "Give me one good reason to leave ya alone, Chris." He held up a hand as the older man opened his mouth to speak. "But make sure it's a reason you'd take from me."

It was Vin's calm expression that finally snapped Chris's temper. His eyes went cold and his voice lowered nearly to a whisper. "I don't need your back talking, Tanner, and I'm not going to listen to it." His hand dropped to rest on the butt of his gun. "Now get out before I save myself a lot of trouble and just shoot you where you sit."

Vin cocked an eyebrow, but slowly rose from his chair. "Fine, cowboy. But when ya finally come to your senses, I may not wanna listen to you, either." Then he turned his back on the blond and walked out of the office, closing the door with an ominous click behind him.

Once Vin was gone, Chris dropped his head onto his desk and wrapped an arm around his stomach. His anger had been the only thing holding his pain at bay and while he was still angry, the emotion was no longer enough to allow him to ignore the pain. The cramps in his abdomen were swiftly becoming more intense, forcing a groan of pain past his lips. He rose shakily to his feet, finally admitting to himself that he was sick. He made it out of his office but only halfway to the elevators before he collapsed. As his vision went dark, all he could see was the image of Vin's back as he walked away.

* * *

Chris snapped his eyes open, frowning when he no longer felt the searing pain that had followed him into unconsciousness. He slowly sat up, his frown deepening when he realized that he didn't know where he was. Instead of a darkened office ceiling and walls, he was staring at a bright blue sky and an empty plain. He jerked around when he heard a voice behind him, one hand dropping to the empty air where his gun should have been.

"Sure took ya a long time ta wake up, pard. I was startin' ta get worried about ya."

The blond frowned as he stared up at what looked almost just like Vin Tanner. The hair was slightly longer and the face looked a little younger, but the major difference was in the clothes. Instead of jeans and a t-shirt, the Vin look-a-like was wearing buckskin and a cavalry hat with what looked like a sawed-off shotgun in a holster at his hip. When he remained silent, the familiar figure above him grinned.

"What's wrong, cowboy? Cat got yer tongue?"

Chris swallowed. Even the voice with the slow Texan accent was the same. He quickly glanced down at himself and was relieved to see that he was still wearing the black jeans and shirt that he had come into the office in. He kept his head down, unwilling to speak while staring at the copy of Vin.

"Who are you, and where am I?"

The blue eyes were twinkling as the Texan answered. "I'm Vin, just not your Vin." He sat in the grass next to Chris, his long legs stretched out and crossed at his booted ankles. "And you ain't really anywhere right now." He spread his arms, gesturing to the plain around them. "This here ain't real. It's all in your head."

One blond eyebrow rose over a disbelieving green eye. "And I suppose you're just in my head too, right? And this is all some pain-induced hallucination."

Vin shook his head. "Nope, cowboy. I ain't no pain-induced anything. I'm just dead."

The bland expression on the Texan's face almost shocked Chris more than his words did. "Okay, let me see if I've got this straight. You're Vin Tanner, but not my Vin. None of this that I'm seeing is real, except for you, and you're dead. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

The Texan nodded, grinning when the blond ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Lemme see if I can make this easier for ya. Your body ain't in great shape right about now and it kicked your mind out here. And I'm here to help ya decide if'n ya wanna go back or not."

Chris groaned as he dropped his head into his hands. "And here I thought Josiah was the philosophical one of the bunch."

Vin snorted. "He may be, cowboy, but he ain't here right now. All ya got is me."

The blond jerked his head up as he finally caught something that Vin had said. "What do you mean, decide if I want to go back?"

"If'n ya decide ta go back, then life goes on and ya gotta deal with what ya did before ya passed out. Ya decide not to, yer body'll give up and ya die." The smile that had been on the tracker's face was gone and the teasing light was missing from the blue eyes. "It's all up ta you, pard. I'm just here ta help."

The frown on Chris's face deepened. "I've been hurt before and nothing like this has ever happened. Why now?"

Vin's smirk was back but it had a sad slant to it. "Cause ya never threatened ta shoot your best friend before."

The blond agent lowered his head, trying to push the pain those words caused out of his mind. But all he could hear was an echo of Vin's last words to him before he walked out of the office.

"Fine, cowboy. But when ya finally come to your senses, I may not wanna listen to you, either."

The buckskin-clad tracker shook his head. "Ya can't just forget it, pard. And if'n ya go back, ya gotta make it right."

Chris nodded, raising his head to meet the familiar blue eyes. "Yeah, I know." His lips curved up in a ghost of a smile. "Besides, I can't leave Tanner wallowing in guilt for leaving me alone just cause I was being a bastard."

A sincere smile appeared on Vin's lips. "Ya made the right choice, pard. Now get on back there 'fore those boys of yours go crazy with worry."

The agent flashed Vin a two-fingered salute as his vision began to grow dim. But before it faded completely, he saw another eerily familiar figure walk up behind the tracker, a long black duster swirling around his legs. The other blond smiled, two fingers rising to the brim of his black hat in acknowledgment.

* * *

Noise began to slowly invade Chris's consciousness, followed closely by a dull pain in his abdomen. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to figure out just where he was, sighing when he felt the IV in his arm. He blinked slowly and found himself staring at the ceiling of a hospital room. He glanced to his left when he realized that his free hand wasn't quite as free as he'd thought.

Vin was asleep slumped in a chair with his head resting on the blond's bed, affectively trapping his hand. He tried to shift the appendage away without waking the sharpshooter, but Vin's head jerked up at the first movement. He blinked owlishly before breaking into a wide grin at seeing that Chris was awake.

"How are ya feeling, cowboy?"

Chris smiled. "Like hell. What happened?"

A smirk suddenly appeared on Vin's face. "Food poisoning." He chuckled at the shocked expression on the blond's face. "Apparently you got some bad shellfish and it really knocked you for a loop." The sharpshooter grew serious, the smile fading as if it had never been there. "When I went back to the office and saw ya lying on the floor I thought you were dead, Chris."

The older man lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Vin. For everything, especially threatening to shoot you."

Though his lips never curved, the sparkle was back in the blue eyes. "It wasn't the first time, cowboy, and it probably won't be the last." He suddenly grinned. "But next time, I get to threaten you."

Chris smiled, glancing over Vin's shoulder and catching a glimpse of another pair of laughing blue eyes. "Whatever you say, Tanner."

The End.