"Mister Wilmington, you look a little the worse for wear. May I take it that your little sojourn to Mr. Larabee's cabin was unsuccessful?" The gambler looked up from where he and Josiah were playing cards. Buck had stormed into the saloon and immediately went to the bar to order a whiskey.

Turning to the two men, and seeing that they were the only other people in the bar at this early hour, the ex-lawman said, "that stupid sonofabitch! He is the most stubborn, hard-headed...pig-headed, fool I have ever known in my life!"

"I take it you're right, Ezra," Josiah said with his usual calm.

With a grin, the southerner shuffled the cards, still favoring his right arm. "It sounds as if you may have had an altercation with the laconic gentleman."

"What we had, Ezra, was an argument. Plan an' simple. The stubborn sonofabitch...it's like tryin' t' talk a brick wall int' movin'." He came to their table, yanked out a chair, and sat down stiffly.

"Chris was conscious though?" Josiah asked with interest.

"Oh yeah, awake, and thinkin' he can take on th' world already. Can't get outta bed yet, but he's got ever'thin' handled." He had lowered his voice, but it was still filled with anger.

"You act as if that surprises you, Mr. Wilmington. Would any of us expect any less from our fearless leader?"

"What I expect is for Chris Larabee t' have a little sense for once. He can't even get t' his feet without help. He needs t' be where we can protect him in case that bunch comes back around. But no...he's gotta be out in that little shack made from kindlin' with a blind tracker and a green kid. Gonna sit out there come hell 'r high water, and prob'ly get hisself killed."

"Perhaps, brother, but it may be that he knows what he needs better than we do."

"Oh, damn it Josiah, don't you start. Chris strings more'n three words t'gether an' all of a sudden ever'body's ready t' let him go on his merry way. We don't take care a him, he's gonna die." The last words were delivered in a pain-filled whisper. Josiah saw the pain and fear in Buck's face, the man was fighting because he was truly terrified that he could still lose his best friend.

"Buck," Josiah said quietly. "You know that none of us is going t' stand by willingly and allow Chris t' die. We'll take care of him, just as he would take care of us."

"I concur," Ezra said, just as moved by what he saw in the other man's face. "We will find a suitable solution to this situation. Mr. Larabee will not be simply cut loose; he shall not be sacrificed to either his pride or this cult's practices."

"I believe, friends, that we need a plan." Josiah said with a nod.

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

Whether it was the pain, or Chris' goading, Vin finally drank the medicine JD had left on the table for him. As he began to nod in the chair, the kid managed to talk him into going to bed.

"You wake me...in a bit...y'hear?" He said between yawns.

"Sure Vin, I'll wake you in a little while." Dunne had no intention of doing anything of the kind, but if it got the tracker to stop pushing himself farther than he needed to he would let him think otherwise.

"You've been hanging around Buck and Ezra too long," Chris said quietly. "You're getting too damn good at lying."

"I wasn't lying, it was a bluff," Dunne said with a smile. "Figure it comes in handy dealing with a bunch of mule-headed friends."

With a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Larabee slowly eased himself down in the bed and closed his eyes.

"Well, they don't talk much more than this when they're awake," JD mumbled to himself as he left to care for the livestock.

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"Chris?!" JD came running full speed from where he had been sitting on the porch. He had heard Larabee cry out, a sound that sent near-panic shooting through him. As he entered, Dunne found Vin struggling to wake from his own drug-induced sleep.

"Vin, I've got him. You lay still." Kneeling next to the bed, Dunne took hold of Chris' shoulders. The other man cried out again, and struggled to get away from the restraining hands. "Chris! It's me...it's JD It's okay. Chris?" He tried to get through the nightmares that the gunman continued to fight.

"Chris? Chris! " It was Vin. The tracker knelt next to the young sheriff and spoke firmly. "Chris, you listen here pard. You're okay...you're safe. It's just me, you an' JD out here. Nobody else. Listen t' me Chris. You're safe. Ain't nobody here t' hurt y'."

Slowly Larabee began to relax, slumping onto the bed. His breathing went from rasping gulps to a quivering sigh. Tears continued to trail along his face; his hands trembled.

"JD, get a cold cloth, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Returning with it quickly, he handed it over to Tanner.

Washing the pale face gently, Vin continued talking. "Chris, you're safe. You're here with me an' JD and we're gonna make sure you're okay. You ain't gotta worry 'bout nothin'."

"V-Vin?" Slowly the tortured man opened his eyes, finding and focusing on the face of his friend. "Vin? Where...where are...we?"

"Still at th' cabin. You remember? We brought y' out t' th' cabin so you could rest. Remember?"

"Y...yeah...I remember... yeah..." he drifted back to sleep.

Rubbing his eyes, Tanner leaned against the bed for a few minutes. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" JD asked quietly.

"Will be in a minute. How 'bout you kid?"

With a short laugh, Dunne said, "sure, I'm fine."

Grinning, Tanner said, "keeps gettin' better, don' it?"

"Oh yeah...let's get you back int' bed."

"Naw, I..." a wave of vertigo suddenly overtook him. "Maybe for a little...little while longer." He slumped against the other man.

Catching him, JD pulled Vin to his feet and to the mattress. Tucking him into bed, he sat next to the hunter and allowed himself a few minutes respite.

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

Outside, there was movement near one of the cabin's side windows. Two figures moved away, deeper into the shadows.

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

"Look JD, I don't think it's too much to ask."

"But, Chris..."

"JD, Josiah's pants still here?"

"Yeah, never did give them back t' him."

"We can use them for now."

"Vin..."

"Look, long's he's got his mind set, y'know we ain't gonna change it."

"JD, I just want to go sit on the porch for a little while...nothing more. I just don't want to be sitting out there in these ripped up drawers."

A mental picture came to the young man of someone riding up on the cabin and finding Chris Larabee sitting on the porch; arms and legs wrapped in bandages, chest and back covered in stitches and scabbing burns, dressed only in long-johns that had been ripped off just above his thighs. With a smile of understanding, he found the pants.

Between the three of them, they managed to get Chris into the borrowed pants. Easing Larabee to his feet, the two younger men helped him hobble from the narrow bed to the porch. There the afternoon sun greeted them brightly. As he helped JD rest Chris in the straightback chair, Vin groaned.

"I'll take it from here," JD said quietly. With a hesitant nod, the tracker moved back into the shadows, leaving the young man to settle their friend under a blanket. "Okay Chris, there you go." He squatted next to the other man, making certain that Larabee was steady enough to sit in the chair alone. He looked paler than JD had ever seen before, and he was panting with exertion. But, finally satisfied that Chris was able to sit in the chair, he moved to sit across the little porch.

  "Looks like he's feelin' a mite better."

"Yep, looks like. Got another week and a half til th' full moon."

"Yep."

The two men watching the cabin settled back in the tall grass, shaded by trees, unseen by those in the cabin.

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

"Are you going to sit here with me the entire time JD?"

"Yep."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I know."

"Damnit, now you sound like Vin."

JD simply smiled.

Chris sighed, settled back as well as he could, and pretended to be alone. They sat there, each one simply watching. Larabee watched the clouds pass and the sun move across the sky. Dunne watched his friend from the corner of his eye, as he pretended to watch nothing other than the horses in the corral.

Inside, comforted by the dim coolness of the cabin, Vin listened. One hand curled loosely over the stock of his hogleg, he used the hunter's senses that had been honed over the years of living off the land; he used the hunted man's senses, honed by years of living under a bounty. Whatever it took, he would make certain that Chris was safe from the men who had tried to kill him. He wished that he could keep him as safe from the demons of his mind. But only Chris had the key to fight them.

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

Buck and Ezra rode toward the cabin. The big ex-lawman was balancing a large picnic hamper on one hip; the smell of fried chicken causing his stomach to growl louder by the minute.

"Well, I'll be," drawled the man beside him. "Evidently our Mr. Larabee has regained some measure of strength."

Looking toward the cabin, Buck could see Chris propped up on one of his straight back chairs. JD was slumped in another, his feet propped up on the corner of the table, fiddling with his pistol. Buck smiled, "well, would y' look at that. Didn't figure he'd stay down for long." He was still upset about the situation, but they had hashed out a plan that would keep Chris safe until he could convince that mule-headed friend of his to return to town where he belonged. And later, when Nathan said he was well, Buck Wilmington had every intention of making certain that Vin Tanner never forgot that he had overstepped his boundaries of friendship. Coaxing his gray forward to a gallop, the big man raced ahead, the hamper bouncing precariously at his side.

With an amused shake of his head, the gambler followed. "After being taunted with the heavenly aromas wafting from that hamper, Mr. Wilmington, you best not spill the contents because of your childish exuberance."

"Well, howdy boys, " Buck sang out as he reined General in next to the porch. He didn't miss the fact that the sun glinted softly off Tanner's sawed-off as it was eased back into the shadows. "Howdy Vin," he added evenly.

"Buck," came the tracker's reply.

"What are you doing out here Buck?" Chris asked evenly. He questioned the good spirits of this oldest friend, even though he knew the man wasn't one to hold onto anger. Something told him that there was more going on in that dark head than a simple visit.

"Well sir, Mrs. Travis wasn't real certain that she could trust either Vin or JD to feed y' right, so she asked us t' bring y' some dinner."

"She did, huh?"

"Yep."

"Reckon she could hear my stomach growling all the way in town?" He smiled, winking at JD

"Can't say that we had much t' work with out here, seeing as about all you had was some beans, jerky and flour," the young man replied, smiling in return.

By then Standish had joined them. Handing the hamper to JD, Buck eased Chris to his feet. With his friend's help, the gunslinger made his way into the little cabin.

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

"Lordy, I eat another bite, we're gonna have t' make th' doorway bigger for me t' leave." Buck grinned, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his stomach.

"Then you're finished cowboy, 'cause I ain't putting' up with you, too," Chris said lightly from the bed.

"Snores too loud, anyway," Vin chimed in. He sat slouched against the wall on his mattress, a plate of food balanced on his knees.

"Well, ain't none a you boys 'xaclty a prize t' be 'round, neither, " Buck adopted a hurt tone, but they could see the twinkle in his eyes.

"Well, gentlemen, while I am loath to end this heartwarming reunion, I fear that Mr. Wilmington and I must take our leave."

"Yeah," Buck agreed, "with you yahoos out here lolly-gaggin' 'round, there's a lot more for us workin' men t' do."

"Uh-huh," JD said. "Not t' mention a lot less competition for the ladies."

Laughter filled the little cabin, as Buck tried to think of a retort, but finally just shrugged his shoulders and gave them a look that asked 'is there any doubt?' More laughter rang through the tiny room.

A few minutes later found the two visitors mounted and calling good-bye to the cabin's residents. Closing the door behind him, Dunne sighed. It had almost seemed like old times for a little while; laughter pushing away the memories of Chris' face as he woke

from another nightmare.

Shrugging off those thoughts, he turned to the reality of the situation. Chris, worn out from the simple act of sitting in a chair, and sated with his first solid meal in weeks, had fallen asleep sitting up. Rescuing the plate that threatened to fall from his lap, JD helped the drowsing man settle into bed. Turning, he pulled Vin's plate from his grasp as well. The young hunter winked open an eye and whispered, "thanks kid." With that, he simply rolled over onto his side and began snoring softly. Busying himself clearing up after their meal, the young sheriff once more thought about how nice it had been to simply sit with the others, talking of nothing in particular.

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

"Here we go again," JD mumbled to himself as he rolled out of his bedroll. Chris was huddled in the corner of his bed, his arms wrapped protectively around his head. Hoarse cries echoed through the room as he recoiled from the demons that haunted his sleep.

Vin was sitting in front of him, talking softly and trying to make his friend understand. "Chris, listen t' me pard. You're okay. You're just havin' an nightmare, that's all. Ain't no one but me, you an' JD here. We've got your back, pard, ain't no one gonna hurt y'."

It seemed at first that not even Vin's calm reassurances were going to be heard. But, slowly, the blond began to relax. Finally he calmed to the point that allowed Tanner to touch him, and then slowly guide him back down under the blankets. Wordlessly, JD handed the tracker a cool cloth, and Vin bathed the tear-stained face.

Chris' eyes fluttered open. "Vin?"

"Yeah."

"I have...another...another dream?"

"Yep. You're okay now though. No more nightmares, y'hear? Go on t' sleep, pard."

"I'm...sorry...I keep wakin'...you fellas up..."

"Don't worry 'bout it. Just go on back t' sleep."

"Sorry..." he said once more.

Patting the still trembling shoulder reassuringly, Vin settled in on the floor next to the little bed. He looked up at JD "Why'n't you go back t' sleep kid? I'll sit with him for a little while."

"You sure?"

With a smile at the hopeful tone in the young man's face, he said, "I'm fine. If I need y' I'll holler. Go get some sleep."

With a mumble and a nod, the sheriff scuffed back to his tangled bedroll, rolled into it, and was quickly asleep.

Vin smile again. Poor kid, he'd hardly slept for days, so worried about making certain that both he and Chris were alright. J.D was having to grow up a lot, in a pretty rough way. Nursemaiding your hero couldn't be easy.

Tanner lay his head back against the wall and started to close his eyes. Suddenly he sat very still. Something...there was something wrong. He had heard something or someone move out on the porch. Damn it! Where was his shotgun? Moving slowly, cautiously, he found his way to his mattress. Nothing. The gun wasn't there. Think! Wait...the table. He had it at the table...but they had used it since; Buck, Ezra and JD had eaten there. Nearby then? Was his hogleg nearby? For the first time since it had happened, he felt the true limitations of his vision. He had been fooling himself, thinking that he was of any use like this. Dejectedly he went to JDs bedroll. Dropping to his knees he whispered in the young man's ear; "kid, I need y' t' be real quiet." He heard a quick intake of breath and felt the tousled head nod beneath his face. "I heard somethin' outside, and I can't find m' gun. You know where it is?" Another affirmative nod.

Scooting back, Vin let JD crawl out of his bedroll for the second time that night. The boy crept to where they had set the sawed-off shotgun earlier and brought it back to the hunter. Motioning toward the dim outline of the front window, Vin led the way across the room. Crouching beneath the window, they both listened, but heard nothing. Finally JD inched his way up, peering over the sill, searching the shadows for any sign of unwanted visitors. He saw nothing. "Ain't nothin' out there, Vin," he whispered.

"You stay here with Chris, then, I'll go out there "

"And what? Vin, you can't see that well yet, and I don't figure it's gonna clear up in the next two minutes. I'll go." Dunne hated saying the words, he knew how much they hurt. But better the truth then to allow Vin to go out there and be gunned down by someone he couldn't even see.

Tanner slumped against the wall. The kid's words had burned through him like lightening; hurting all the more because they were true. The feelings of helplessness he had been fighting swarmed over him once more. He wanted to crawl away and hide; to rail against his infirmities; to die. He had been a fool to believe that he could do anything to keep Chris safe from the men who wanted him dead.

All of those feelings and more rushed through him. Then he pushed them away, set them aside with his pride and his stubbornness. Nodding shortly to the other man he whispered, "I'll back you up from here. Go out and follow the wall t' your left, okay? I'll track y' from th' windows."

"Okay," JD agreed, and edged over to and out the door.

Vin listened as the kid crept along the wall slowly. He strained to hear sounds of anyone or anything else beyond the walls, but there was nothing.

Outside, JD tried to keep his heart from pounding a hole in his chest. Fear threatened to consume him, but the overpowering need to keep his friends safe helped him to put that fear in it's place. Edging his way along the wall, he stopped every few inches as he sought to find movement in the shadows beyond the porch. He stopped when one of the horses began to stomp and blow in the corral. Then the others followed suit, something spooking them. Dunne tightened and then loosened his grip on his twin colts, holding them at the ready. He slid as silently as possible around the table and chairs that Chris kept on the porch, then to the corner of the little cabin.

Inside, Tanner listened intently. He had heard the horses begin to sound off as something strange disturbed them. His instincts told him to slip outside and go after whatever had approached the cabin, but he knew he could very well make things worse. Still able to see little more than a general blur of shapes and colors, light and dark, he would be just as likely to throw down on JD as he would a prowler. Taking a deep breath, he sat still and listened.

JD felt as if he had been rooted to that spot, frozen in time, for an eternity. Finally, his guns leading the way, he turned the corner.

And felt the guns pulled from his grasp.

And a hand clamped over his mouth.

And darkness suddenly claimed him as something soft and pungent was pressed over his mouth and nose.

In the cabin, Vin heard a small gasp and instantly knew that something had happened to JD "Damn!" he swore under his breath. Heedless of the fact that he was in nothing but his pants; that he could see very little; that he could be easily overpowered by whoever was out there; that his gun was the only thing standing between Chris and those who wished him harm now; he scrambled through the door.

"Where you goin', boy?" A voice growled in his ear. Tanner felt arms like bands of iron wrap around his body, clamping his arms to his side. He struggled, but it would not have been harder to battle a grizzly. The man-mountain simply stood there, squeezing the life from the young tracker until the gun fell from his numbed grasp. Vin felt himself blacking out, but fought it. If he fell, then there was no one to stand up against these men and keep Chris from being returned to the cult and certain death. If he gave in, Chris died; it was as simple as that. And he would not let that happen.

Gathering his last ounce of strength, the hunter tensed his lean body and thrust backward against the big man who held him. The beamoth grunted, but did not relax his grip. A second and a third time, Vin ploughed into the human wall, but to no avail. And then, suddenly, he heard the man yelp and jerk. And Vin was loose.

Slumping to his knees, Tanner drew in a few quivering breaths, trying to fill his aching lungs with air. Then he felt someone beside him; someone taking hold of him. He struck out, but his fist was easily deflected. The person grabbed him firmly and a voice said, "easy there brother, it's only me."

"Josiah?"

"Yep. Let's get you inside, okay?"

He nodded, then said, "m' gun?"

"I've got it, and I have you. Come on now, before you catch cold." Josiah lifted him easily to his feet and led the still-shaken hunter back into the cabin. Heavy footsteps came around the porch and entered close behind them. Vin tensed, but Josiah laid a calming hand on his shoulder. "How is he Nathan?"

"Just sleepin'. Prob'ly sleep through til mornin'."

"JD?" Tanner asked.

"Yep. One a them fellas knocked him out. Smells like ether."

"Ether? That stuff y' put folks' t' sleep with 'fore y' operate on 'm?"

"Yep."

"Why not just kill him?"

"Perhaps they saw another likely sacrifice in brother Dunne, " Josiah said softly.

Vin felt a chill wash over him at the thought of JD going through what Chris had. The kid was tough, no doubt about it, but Tanner doubted that he could survive the torture Chris had.

"Vin, close your eyes. I've got t' light the lamp so I can check y'all over," Nathan said.

Closing his eyes and shading them with one hand, the hunter slumped tiredly in the chair Josiah had guided him to. "Hey," Vin said suddenly. "Where'd you fellas come from, anyway?"

"Well..." Josiah said with a long pause, "we just thought we'd come out an' see if you were doin' okay."

"In th' middle a th' night?"

"Any reason we can't?"

"Josiah, you don't lie near's well as Ezra 'r Buck. Want me t' give y' a little more time t' think a somethin' better?"

"Yeah, how 'bout we discuss it tomorrow?"

"If I weren't so tired, I'd argue," the young man said with a yawn.

"Then, how about we get you t' bed?"

"I'm okay for now."

"Alright, " the ex-preacher said hesitantly. "Nathan, I'm gonna go check on our 'friends' out there. You need me, give a holler."

"Alright," the healer said distractedly as he examined the youngest member of their group.

"Vin?" Chris' voice broke the stillness.

The tracker, keeping his eyes shielded, padded across the small cabin to the bed. "Hey, pard, go on back t' sleep. Ever'things fine."

"You're babying me, cowboy."

He laughed softly. "Yep, reckon I am. Sorry. We had a little dust up. Don't know th' particulars yet, but Josiah an' Nathan's here, so you can rest easy."

"Don't see that happening," Chris said sadly, "until we clean out the nest of vipers that seem set on causing trouble." Slowly and painfully the gunfighter hitched himself up in the bed. He looked over to where their resident doctor was just finishing his examination of their youngest.

Nathan sat back and answered the questions he saw in the other man's eyes. "He's fine, just unconscious. They used ether on him from the smell on his face and clothes. Soon as it wears off, he'll be 'bout as good as new." Tucking the blanket around the young man's shoulders, he came to where Tanner sat next to Chris. "Vin, how you doin'?"

I'm fine, doc," he said quietly.

"Man gets hugged by a grizzly bear, " Josiah's voice rang out from the doorway, "he might come away with a few bruises."

"Let me take a look," Jackson moved the other man's arm from where he held it protectively around his abdomen. There were indeed bruises. A quick examination told the healer that this seemed the extent of it. "You're gonna be sore for a few days, but I don't think there's any serious damage. I'd tell y' t' take it easy, but you're as hard headed as he is, " he nodded toward Chris, "so I ain't gonna waste m' breath."

As if to prove the healer's point, Chris said, "Josiah, what about those men?"

"I've got them all snug in Vin's wagon for now. Figure we'll take them in town at first light."

"I want to go see them."

"Chris," Nathan started.

Shaking his head, the gunfighter said, "I've been on my back long enough. Time I started taking control."

None of the other men were ready for Chris to start risking the life they had been fighting so hard to protect. At the same time, they were relieved to see the fire returning to his eyes and voice. Chris Larabee was waking from the dead.

"Alright," Josiah said finally, "let's go take a look at these men."

Nathan and Vin moved, allowing the ex-preacher to scoop the gunman from his bed and start toward the door.

"Josiah," Chris growled.

Cutting him off with an even stare, the big man said, "you wanna go back t' bed?"

Even Chris Larabee knew his limits. Bucking the big man who was carrying him like a sack of flour went beyond those limits. He closed his mouth and suffered in silence.

Reaching the wagon, Sanchez let Chris down, steadying the man as he swayed on his feet. Keeping one arm protectively around Larabee's waist, he flipped back the canvas tarp and scratched a match to life on one of the roughhewn boards. Holding it out, he let Chris see first one trussed up man and then the other. As the gunman searched their faces, he found himself flooded with a jumble of disconnected memories. Pain, humiliation, fear, helplessness, anger; all washed over him, bathing the traumatized man in emotion.

Suddenly he found himself unable to breathe. His knees buckled, only Josiah's strong arm around his waist keeping him from falling to the ground. The light disappeared as Josiah killed the match.

"Chris...Chris! Listen t' me. Focus on my voice, Chris. You're safe son. They can't hurt you. They're tied up and unconscious. They can't hurt you. It's alright. Do you hear me? Chris?"

"Yeah...yeah..." He took a deep, shuttering breath, and then another. Slowly he managed to regain some measure of control. Straightening, he said, "I'm okay... thanks."

"Yep. Let's get you back inside." This time Chris said nothing as the former preacher lifted him into his arms and carried him back into the little cabin. Returning the gunman to bed, Josiah sat next to him. Regarding Chris with great concern evident in his blue eyes, he said, "Chris if you talk about it; bring it out in the open "

"Not yet Josiah...not yet." The eyes that met the holy man's were bright with unshed tears.

Nodding, he said, "just remember that you have six friends who'll gladly help you. When you're ready, we'll take some of your burden for you...you aren't alone."

The blond nodded, a quivering smile expressing his thanks.

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

"Chris, I want you t' drink this," Nathan appeared next to the bed, holding a mug.

"Nathan...I don't want to sleep..." Chris responded quietly. "I don't...don't want to dream."

"Drink this and you won't dream."

"Chris, drink it and sleep. Know that we'll be here, and no one will harm you," Josiah said evenly.

Shakily propping himself up, the blond accepted the mug and, with Josiah's help, drank the herbal brew. Finishing it, he slumped back to the bed, his eyes already drooping. "Not much...of a bad guy...am I?" He mumbled the words, slurring them slightly.

Sanchez chuckled. "Even bad guys need a friend from time t' time. Don't worry, we won't do anything t' ruin your reputation." He sat beside the injured man until he was certain that Chris was sleeping soundly. Carefully easing from the bed, he walked outside. Nathan had taken up a position on one of the chairs, keeping an eye on the wagon where the men had been secured. Josiah took another chair, sitting where he could watch inside the cabin.

"He asleep?"

"For the moment."

"Gotta say, he looked in pretty bad shape when you brought him back in while ago. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for him t' see those men right now."

"He faced the truth, brother Jackson. His mind won't be able t' heal until he's faced it squarely. And his mind's "

"Keepin' his body from healin'. I figured that, too. But, his body needs t' be strong enough t' handle takin' on the pain that's gonna come with all that truth."

"Well, that's where we rely on your abilities my friend."

"You're setting a lot of store on a stretcher bearer."

"You're doubting yourself. Why?"

"Josiah...I can patch a wound, or set a broken bone, but I ain't no doctor. Y'all seem t' forget that sometimes."

"How can we, as long as you don't? You'll never let us forget for very long. But perhaps you need t' consider that if we do forget from time t' time, it's because our trust in you; our faith in your abilities; allow us t' forget.

"Nathan, you're no more alone in this than Chris is. We're all in this t'gether and together we'll see Chris through his problems. Just as we've faced outlaws and murderers in the past...and will in the future. Together."

Dawn broke, bringing with it blue skies and warm breezes; a stark contrast to the ugliness of the previous night. Nathan and Josiah had kept vigil throughout the long hours. Occasional noises from inside the wagon told them that their prisoners had regained consciousness. Inside the cabin, everything was quiet. Chris had indeed slept without dreaming. The other two men, worn out and drugged up, had slept as well.

The sound of running horses called the two peacekeepers attention toward the road nearby. Ezra and Buck came galloping up, Buck jumping from the saddle before General even stopped. "Everything okay? Chris? What happened?" The questions came rapid-fire.

"I believe that what Mr. Wilmington is attempting to convey is that when we came to relieve you, we were somewhat concerned to find the camp empty. Is everyone alright?" Ezra said in his usual cool tones. His green eyes belied his nonchalance, however.

"We had a little dust-up last night," Josiah volunteered. "Nothin' too serious. Couple a bruises, headache or two. Managed t' convince a couple a Chris' former hosts t' spend th' night."

"Where? Where are the bastards?" Buck's eyes flashed with barely restrained fury.

"Vin's wagon. But Buck," the former preacher stopped the man. "Remember that they won't lead us t' the others if they're dead."

"Oh, they'll be alive, alright...they'll just wish they's dead." With that the big man stormed toward the wagon; Nathan and Ezra trailing in his wake.

"Thought you's just comin' for a visit last night," Vin's voice came from inside the cabin.

Turning, Josiah regarded the hunter. Vin squinted at him from the edge of the shadows. "I reckon don't need t' come up with a better story anymore."

"Reckon not. You fellas been out there th' whole time?"

"Just about." He paused, smiling at the younger man. "Considering the fact that it was the best way t' keep Buck from trying t' kill you and carry Chris back t' town against his will...not t' mention the fact that it was a good thing we were nearby...I'd think you'd be happy about the way things turned out."

"Oh, I'm happier'n a bee in a flower patch. But why'd y' keep it a secret?"

"Chris needed some space...time t' gather his thoughts. We figured it was best t' give him some room. But, until we have all of those maniacs dead or caught, we didn't want your lives in danger."

Vin nodded and slid a little farther into the sun. Josiah watched as the young man looked a little puzzled, then smiled.

"Vin?"

"Don't hurt...not much anyway."

"The light?"

"Yep," his smile grew wider.

"How's th' vision?"

He frowned as he considered his answer. "Seems a bit clearer. Can't make out that ugly face a yours, but I can see y' sittin' there. Buck...Ezra...Nathan...that them out at m' wagon?"

"Yep," Sanchez couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice. If their sharpshooter was beginning to regain his vision, it was truly a reason to rejoice. Then a soft groan startled both men; they turned to find JD slumped against the cabin wall, staring blearily at them. "What th' hell hit me?"

"One a them bastards after Chris," Vin proceeded to fill the young man in on the happenings of the night before. By the time he finished, Dunne was obviously agitated.

"Damn them!" He spit the words out. "We need t' find out where th' rest of those sonsabitches are and go kill every last one of 'm! Let's go beat it outta those two in the wagon now!" He started toward the wagon, but Josiah blocked his way.

"Son, let the others question them. You need t' relax...recover from last night." He hoped the boy would buy the reasoning. Josiah knew that Ezra and Nathan had their hands full with Buck at the wagon. The volatile member of their group could be clearly heard, threatening their prisoners with every conceivable type of punishment. Two hot heads would ruin any chance of their getting information from the cult members.

"I'm fine, Josiah," JD tried again to get past the big man, but Sanchez didn't move.

"JD," Vin said quietly. "Why'n't you go check on Chris...maybe get some coffee goin'?"

Flashing an angry look at the hunter, he simply stood for a moment, his anger strong enough to be felt by the other men. Then, with a deep breath, he willed himself to calm down. Turning, he went to check on the still sleeping Larabee. Chris lay quite still in the bed. JD realized just how small the man looked. He knew, of course, that while Chris always seemed bigger than life, he was actually almost as lean as Vin. But now he looked thin...almost frail. The burns and cuts were half-healed, the bullet wounds were still bandaged the white material only slightly paler than the man himself. All of the injuries done to Larabee by the cultists made a macabre design across his chest, down his arms, nearly everywhere on the near-emaciated body.

JD felt all of the anger, the frustration, and the impotence well up in his throat. He feared that if he opened his mouth, it would all escape in a scream.

Suddenly a pair of haunted hazel eyes met his own. "JD?"

"Morning Chris. I...just wanted to see how you were doing...if you needed anything."

"I'm okay," the gunslinger said with a shake of his head.

"Okay. I'm going t' get some coffee started." He turned, needing to escape the look in those eyes. He couldn't stand the sight of his hero so helpless; couldn't cope with the thought of what had happened to him. He would find a way to exact some measure of revenge on the monsters that had done those things to his friend.

Vin slowly edged farther and farther into the sun. He felt the faint beginning of a headache, but it didn't seem to be getting any worse. His heartbeat quickened in excitement; perhaps things were going to turn around finally. Maybe they'd be able to get back to some sort of normal soon.

"Vin?" Nathan had seen the hunter moving by inches farther into the morning sun. Leaving Ezra to keep Buck from attacking the captured cult members, the healer hurried to the porch. "Vin, what are you doing?"

"It's okay doc, I'm fine."

"What?"

"I can take the sun. It hurts a bit, but not near's bad as it did." Unable to quite believe what the hunter was saying, Nathan looked to Josiah for confirmation.

"He's been standin' there a good ten minutes Nathan," the ex-preacher said quietly.

A broad smile graced the man's handsome dark face. Then the healer inside him took over and he began asking questions. "There's some headache?"

"Little bit, but ain't near's bad."

"Your vision?"

"Still real blurry, but seems t' be a little clearer," Vin patiently answered the other man's questions.

"Alright, I don't want you over-doing it. I want you t' go back inside."

"Aw, Nathan," the outdoorsman groaned. He had hoped that he would finally be allowed to go outside again; feel the sun, the wind, get out of the shadows. "C'mon...I'm feelin' like a damn mushroom here."

"Look, I know you're gettin' antsy bein' stuck inside.." he paused, looking at the anxious expression on Tanner's face. "Look, make me a deal. Go back inside and give it a little while. If your headache clears up, or at least doesn't get any worse, you can go sit in the shade for a while."

"An hour?" Tanner's voice was almost boyish with excitement. The other men could truly see the man's youth as he smiled hopefully. "An hour should be enough, right?"

His deep laugh booming, the healer slapped the hunter on the arm. "Alright, man, an hour. Now get that skinny butt inside."

Still grinning, Vin slipped back inside. Not even the fact that he stumbled into the table completely dismissed either the smile or his mood.

"You're disgustingly cheerful this morning," Chris quipped.

"Just plannin' a trip out yonder, soon's Nathan lets me outta this damn shack."

You're going outside in the daytime?"

"Yep."

"Headache's gone?"

"Pert near. Eyes 'r gettin' better, too," Tanner supplied.

"That's good news," Chris smiled, a genuine smile, and relief washed over him. Since he had been strong enough to be aware of what was going on, he had feared for the future of his young friend if his sight did not return. Perhaps this was the beginning of Vin's road to recovery. Now, if he could only find that road himself... 

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

As if he had counted off the seconds and perhaps he had Vin was at the cabin door in an hour. "Nathan's m' head's fine. It been long enough?"

The healer turned from where he was tending to Chris' wounds. "Would it make much difference if I said no?"

"We agreed on an hour," Vin hedged.

Rolling his eyes and giving Chris a look that elicited a hearty chuckle from the gunman, Jackson said, "alright Vin Tanner. JD, can you make sure that he gets t' that big tree over yonder," he nodded his head in the general direction of the nearest tree, "and no farther."

"Yeah, sure...fine..." the young man grumbled, causing the others t' look at him.

"I'll accompany Vin t' the tree," Josiah put in quickly. " I could use some fresh air myself."

"Y'all don't need t' pass me 'round like a rag doll," Vin said, his mood spiraling downward.

"Nonsense, brother Tanner," Josiah stepped over and clapped a big hand on the young man's shoulder. "I'd like some time away from these yahoos. Come on, let's get some sun."

Allowing Sanchez's cheerful tone to lift his spirits once more, Vin's smile returned.

As the two men left the cabin, Josiah's stride shortened to keep pace with Vin, the others turned their attention back to JD Dunne.

"JD, are you okay?" Chris asked quietly.

"I'm fine Chris," he answered, but his tone told a different story. The young man was at the end of his rope, and the end was fraying.

Then Ezra Standish stepped in. "Mr. Dunne, might I request a favor of you?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" JD slumped in a chair.

"I have been in need of a brief respite from town. There are two gentlemen who have been frequenting my gaming table and quite honestly they are becoming something of a nuisance. I feel that a night or two away from town may be just the thing. Hopefully they will be on their way with the next stage."

"Ezra, m' head hurts, could y' "

"Ezra wants to stay out here for a couple of days, and he'd like you to trade places with him," Chris came to the young man's rescue.

"But Chris "

"JD, Ezra won't do it as well...but he can help out 'round here. You go back t' town; get a beer, see if Casey's around."

He hesitated only a moment, his allegiance to his friends, especially to Chris Larabee, gave way to a more personal need. JD Dunne needed a break from the pressures of the past few days.

"Yeah, okay Chris. But, if you need anything "

"I'll bribe Standish, he'll do it," Chris said with a wink. "Why don't you and Buck take those...men...t' jail, then go get that beer?"

"Chris?" Nathan interrupted, "might not be such a good idea t' send the two of them in with those fellas. You know how Buck can be..."

"He mad?"

"You could say that. Better description might be madder'n hell. J.D.'d prob'ly have t' tie him up, too."

"Yeah...should have thought about that. Ol' Buck does get his dander up when it comes to one of us getting hurt." A smile tugged at one corner of the gunman's mouth.

"That, Mister Larabee," the conman said, "is a vast understatement."

"JD," Nathan said, "I'm about through here. I'll go with you t' take the prisoners t' town. Between me an' you I figure we can sit on Buck if need be."

"Ain't no one sittin' on me," Wilmington's voice came to them from the cabin door. "I'm staying out here."

"Buck, we're short-handed as it is in town. Judge ain't paying you t' baby-sit me."

"Town be hanged and Travis be damned, Chris, "Buck said softly. "They ain't done with you...and I ain't even started with them."

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

For once in his life, Chris Larabee found himself unable to win an argument with Buck Wilmington. The big gunman simply dug in his heels and refused to budge. In the end, Josiah, Nathan and JD took the prisoners to town, while Buck and Ezra remained at the cabin with Chris and Vin.

The tracker had to no one's surprise pushed himself too far, insisting that he was fine and staying under the tree most of the day. Chris went as far as the porch once again, satisfied to sit in the chair, watching the clouds float across the sky...and watch his younger friend under the tree.

Ezra had taken Josiah's place, sitting with Vin in the shade. Chris had to chuckle more than once as he watched the typically laconic hunter. Vin had never been so animated before; he seemed to talk non-stop, broad gestures punctuating his word. On his part, Ezra was at the very least making a good show of being interested.

"What on earth do y' think he's Tallinn' about?" Buck said from where he sat with Chris.

"Hard telling. Probably Indian lore, or maybe stories from his bounty hunting days. Sure is giving Ezra an earful, though, ain't he?"

"I'm surprised the' man ain't snapped an' shoved his cards down Vin's throat," Buck quipped.

Chris laughed, and then regarded his long-time friend for a few minutes. "Buck?"

"Yep?"

"You okay?"

Wilmington looked at him quizzically, "I'm fine. Why?"

"I mean about Vin." He had heard some of what had happened while the others talked. They had thought he was asleep, and talked freely of Buck's anger toward the young hunter over his bringing Chris to the cabin.

"Am I still pissed at 'm, y' mean? A little I reckon. He risked your life, Chris. Ain't sure I can completely forget that anytime soon. But..." He trailed off, and then favored his friend with a patented Buck Wilmington smile, "y' don't seem the worse for wear, so reckon I can work on forgivin' 'm."

Chris smiled. "Good. Can't say as I enjoy my two best friends fighting over me. " He winked at the other man.

That Chris even openly admitted to a friendship was something that did not escape Buck's notice. To be referred to as a best friend nearly floored the man. Once again the big man found himself speechless, but his smile grew even broader.

"Looks like they're comin' back," Chris nodded toward the tree. Buck looked to see Ezra walking slowly beside Vin, his hand on the man's arm. Vin was looking toward the ground, one hand shading his eyes.

"Looks like he overdid it," Wilmington said as he rose and hurried toward the two men. Putting an arm protectively around Tanner's back, he helped him into the house.

Reaching the cool shadows of the cabin, Vin dropped his hand and sighed. "Damn it, I was feelin' fine til just a few minutes ago. Don't know what happened."

"What happened, Mr. Tanner, is that you've been sitting out there for a good four hours, and that is perhaps too much for your first sojourn into the out of doors. I suggest you repair to your bed and I'll bring you some of the medicinal drink that Nathan left for you."

"Naw, I'll be okay in a bit," Vin argued. Then he swayed on his feet, nearly falling to the floor. Buck caught him, and hustled the lean man toward his mattress. "Bed, pard, now."

"Bucklin, c'mon. I'm okay, honest."

"You already ducked one ass-whoopin' on account a Chris is doin' so well, " Buck feigned anger, "don't push your luck on another one. Now, lay down." He pressed the man to the mattress, pulling off his coat and boots.

Despite his protests, the bed felt good, and he suddenly realized how tired he was. Ezra stepped over a few minutes later with the medicine, and Vin simply accepted it and drank the mixture. Laying back down, he closed his eyes wearily.

Just as Vin started to drift toward sleep, a heavy thud snapped their attention toward the porch.

"Good Lord," Ezra grimaced as he saw Chris Larabee sprawled across the open door.

"Dammit! Buck yelled as both men hurried to their leader's side. He was trying to rise on shaking arms, a look of pain on his handsome face. "Son, what 'r y' tryin' t' do, scare me outta ten years growth?"

"No, just trying to get up," Chris said breathlessly.

"Perhaps you should have mentioned this fact to one of us, Mr. Larabee, " Ezra chided.

"Yeah...maybe..."

Buck and Ezra, expecting a cutting reply, were not prepared for the simple agreement. They exchanged a look of concern as they helped their companion to his feet. Gently leading him to the bed, they were both acutely aware of how unsteady Chris was on his feet. Had they expected too much of him? Perhaps Chris Larabee wasn't as well as they had thought.

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

"Nooooo! God, noooo!!!"

Ezra Standish felt the hair on the back of his neck stand rigid as the blood-curdling cry rang through the little cabin. Before he could come fully awake and decide exactly when the banshee had gotten into the room, the screams had become panicked cries.

"Chris?" He stumbled from where he had been dozing at the table, to where the gunslinger huddled, trapped in yet another nightmare. The gambler knelt at the bed. "Chris, what is it?"

Wild hazel eyes stared at him without seeing the young gambler. Ezra reached out to touch one quaking shoulder, and found himself deflecting a series of weak blows. Protecting himself easily, he finally managed to break the spell; Chris slumped tiredly against the sweat-soaked pillow, gulping for air.

"Chris, are you alright?" They had been warned about the nightmares, but nothing the others could have said would have prepared him for the actual experience.

"He okay?" Buck's voice came from the door.

"I believe so, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra answered.

"One a them dreams JD told us about?"

"Evidently."

With a nod, the big gunman closed the door and returned to the porch where he had been on sentinel duty.

Turning his attention back to the injured man, Standish saw that Chris was still struggling to breathe. Hesitantly he touched the man's shoulder. Larabee tensed, but did not fight the touch this time. "It's alright Chris, " Ezra said softly. "Let's see if we can make you a bit more comfortable." He helped Larabee up, propping him against the wall and pulling the blanket closer around the shivering form.

Chris continued to gulp air, his eyes pleading silently with the conman for help. His face was paling, the flesh around his lips turning blue. His anxiety was slowly suffocating him.

The gambler did the only thing he could. Forcing himself to remain calm, he continued talking. "Chris Larabee, listen to me. You're safe. There's no one here that means you harm. Buck is outside watching for any sign of trouble, and Vin and I are both right here with you. I want you to listen to me. You have to calm down. Just take a deep breath...slower...deep breath...that's it." Inwardly he sighed as Chris slowly relaxed. "Now another...good..."

Suddenly someone was handing him a cool cloth and a glass of water. Turning, he found the tracker standing next to them. Taking the items, Standish helped the gunman drink. That done, he began to cool the man's still-pale face. A shaking hand touched his and Ezra allowed Chris to take the cloth.

"You're looking a little better now," the gambler said with a grin.

Larabee favored him with a weak smile. "You usually...lie better than...that."

"Well, I fear I'm not at the top of my game at this hour." He turned to where Vin was leaning heavily against the wall. "Mister Tanner, please lie back down before you fall in an undignified heap."

"I'm okay," Tanner responded tiredly.

"Vin, go on back to bed. I'm okay now," Chris said evenly.

Hesitating, knowing that his friend was lying, Vin finally decided that there was nothing he could do that the gambler wasn't capable of doing. With a curt nod, he returned to his mattress.

"Would you like something a little stronger than water?" Ezra asked.

"The stronger the better, " Chris said, still breathless.

Retrieving his flask, he opened it and handed it to the blond. Larabee took a long draw, savoring the bite of the scotch whiskey. Nodding his thanks, he handed the container back to Standish. Making certain that Chris could see that it was readily available for another drink, Ezra said, "are you in pain anywhere? Was the cause of your spell physical?" He wasn't comfortable prying, but they would need to know if this was something that Nathan should be apprized of.

"No...nothing hurts more than it has hurt."

"If you want to talk about it "

"No!" Chris said the word sharply. Calming a little, he said, "thanks, but I don't want to talk about it. Not sure I can..."

"It could only help. I know a little of dreams...nightmares...they tend to dissipate in the telling. If it helps, I promise not to divulge any of what you tell me "

"Ezra, I said no. Please...drop it." Chris was becoming agitated once more. His breathing began to sound irregular.

Backing down, the gambler held out his flask once more. Taking it, Larabee took yet another long drink. Slowly his breathing returned to normal. He leaned back against the wall, his eyes drifting shut as the whiskey began to work it's magic. Finally he was calmed enough that, with Standish's help, he lay back down. Ezra sat beside him until he was sleeping soundly once more. Then he crept quietly away, stealing out the door.

Buck was sitting in the shadows, feet propped up against the porch support. Standish took the second chair, putting himself in a position to watch the men inside should another nightmare awaken the blond.

"He sleepin'?" Wilmington asked after a few moments.

"Yes, finally." Ezra answered. "Buck, I'm concerned."

"About?"

"The nightmares. I don't believe that I've ever witnessed anything so devastating."

"Man goes through somethin' like that...no tellin' what it'll do t' his mind."

"That's just it, Mr. Wilmington, we don't know exactly what it was that he went through. All we have to judge from are the wounds on his body. We cannot see what it has done to his mind...his spirit..."

"What're y' gettin' at, Ezra?"

"What I am getting at, Mr. Wilmington, is that unless we know what he went through, it's going to be extremely difficult to assist him in his full recovery."

"Maybe, but y'all know Chris. He's about the most private fella I've ever known. He don't share much with other folks. 'Sides, I ain't even sure he knows what happened back there. Seen this kinda stuff before. Man tends t' put the worst things outta his mind, just so's he can get on with life."

"That's just it, Buck. He's repressed the memories, but they are still there. And as long as he holds onto them so tightly, they're going to consume him. We need to help him to release them."

"Alright, say you're right. How do we do that, if he ain't ready t' face them memories?"

"I've learned many rather obscure talents during my life," Ezra said thoughtfully. "And I believe that I have a skill that can be of service here. Have you ever heard of hypnotism Mr. Wilmington?"