by Winnie

Vin Tanner sat in the chair, watching the slow rise and fall of the man on the bed. The man he considered a brother in every sense of the word. The man who'd saved his life on countless times in countless ways. "Always the hero, aren't you, Cowboy?"  The trackers eyes filled with anger, anger at himself, anger at the world, anger at the man in the bed.

"Why did ya have ta do it? Don't ya think I coulda takin' care of it myself? I damn well didn't need ya rushin in ta be my hero. Didn't ask ya ta take the fuckin' bullet for me, either. Should never have let ya get ta me. You hear me! I can't lose ya, Cowboy, not like this! Not over somethin' I did a long time ago. Come on, Chris, open yer eyes," the tracker pleaded.

With shaking hands he reached out and took the blond's left hand in both of his, trying to send him the strength and will to live. He slid from the chair and sat next to the bed, placing his head on the pillow next to his fallen friend. Slowly his mind wondered back to the fateful day

 

Five days earlier

"Hey, Chris, have you seen Vin?"

"Not since last night, JD. Is there a problem?"

"I don't know. I got word that some old friends of his are lookin' for him."

"Who're these old friends, JD?" Chris asked curiously.

"Two fellas named Burton Welsh and Mace Parker. Vin ever mention 'em?"

"Not to me," Larabee said. "I'll tell him if I see him before you do, JD."

"Thanks, Chris," Dunne said as he hurried towards the jail.

Chris watched the youngest member of the seven as he disappeared into the jail. He wondered where Vin Tanner had disappeared to. He'd wanted to invite the younger man out to his shack for a few days. Give him a chance to get over the illness he'd just fought off.  Vin had succumbed to a cold that had swept through the town of Four Corners. The tracker had spent a week cooped up in Nathan Jackson's clinic and was chomping at the bit to get away for a little while. He smiled at the thought of his friend hiding from Nathan once he'd escaped the clinic.

Chris walked towards the saloon, hoping to find the younger man there. As he stepped into the street, he heard the approach of two horses. He'd stayed alive this long because he made it a point of knowing who was in town and he waited for the two men to stop before him. "Something I can do for you, gents?" he asked.

"Maybe," the larger of the two men said. His tangled hair hung loosely down to his shoulders, a jagged scar running from the corner of his mouth to just under his left ear giving him the appearance of a grinning corpse. He wore two guns, tied low on his hips, his right hand resting on his leg, fingers flexing in readiness. "We're lookin' for an old friend."

"And just who is this old friend?" Chris asked, as he studied the second man. This one carried no guns, but two wicked-looking knives were strapped to his belt within easy reach. His cold dark eyes bore into Chris's, as he made his own study of the gunslinger. Something about this man unnerved Chris and he knew he was the more dangerous of the two.

"His name's Tanner," the man with the knives said coldly.

"Haven't seen him in a couple a days. Why don't you tell me your names and I'll tell him you were askin' about him."

"Who are you?" the scar-faced man asked.

"The name's Chris Larabee."

"The gunslinger?" the knife-wielding man asked.

"One and the same," Chris said with the same cocky grin he'd given JD earlier. "You know who I am. You gonna return the favour and tell me who you are?"

"Tell Tanner, Burton Welsh and Mace Parker are lookin' for him," the man with the knives said.

"You got a message for me to give him if I see him?" Chris asked, recognizing the two names as the ones JD had told him about. Somehow he knew these men were not friends of the longhaired tracker.

"No, just tell him we're lookin' forward to seein' him again," the knife-wielding man, whom Chris figured was Welsh said.

"Where'll he find you?"

"We're gonna get us a room at the hotel. You can tell Tanner to meet us there," Parker said.

"I'll keep that in mind if I see him," Chris said as he walked towards the saloon.

 

 

Present day

Vin opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. He looked at his friend's chest, once again relieved to see the steady rise and fall. The tiny movement was the only sign that there was life in the body.

He felt the cool brow and began to speak softly. "Ya just wouldn't let it alone would ya, Cowboy. How many times have ya played the hero for one of us? You've managed to save us all by keeping us together. If I were a bettin' man like Ezra, I wouldn't have given this group a chance in hell of makin' it. Look what ya did. Ya made us all vulnerable. Ya fought for us. Ya saved our necks. You're always our hero," he said as he swiped at the unshed tears in his eyes. Swallowing the lump that threatened to choke him, he continued his constant litany. "Ya saved Nathan from hangin' that day. Oh, I know it was both of us, but if ya hadn't given me that signal that day I probably woulda got myself killed. Ya saved Billy not once but twice that day the devil was after him. Ya saved Buck from being killed by Coltrane. Ya went and got Mrs. Travis away from that animal Wicks," the tracker said, tears threatening to fall as he kept talking to the unconscious man. He swiped again at his eyes and looked up as the door opened. "Come on, Cowboy, it's time to wake up," he said quietly.

"Any change, Mr. Tanner?"

"No, he still hasn't woke up, Ezra."

The gambler heard the anguish in the trackers soft voice as he stepped up to the bed. "Why don't you get something to eat? I'll stay with him," Standish offered.

"No thanks, Ezra, I have to be here when he wakes up."

"It's been nearly a week, Mr..., Vin, Don't you think you need a break."

"Damnit, Ezra, I said no. I'm stayin' till Chris opens his eyes," Tanner shouted angrily. Lack of sleep and little to eat had finally worn him down and he seemed to be snapping at everyone. "I'm sorry, Ez," he apologized, "I just can't leave him. It's my fault he's here."

"No, Vin, it's not. We all know what Mr. Larabee is like. He's always the hero," Standish said.

Vin Tanner laughed for the first time since his friend was shot.

"What's so funny, Mr. Tanner?"

"I just said the same thing to him. Told him he's always the hero," Tanner said with a grin.

"I think we all view Mr. Larabee in that way. He's stood by all of us when we needed it. He gave me a chance to redeem myself after I deserted you in the Seminole village. That's more than anyone else has ever done for me," Standish said softly. "He's strong, Vin; he'll be glaring at all of us soon enough."

"Not soon enough for me, Ez; I'd give anything to see that glare right now," Tanner's voice trembled as he spoke.

"We all would, Mr. Tanner. I'm going to get some breakfast. I'll bring you back some as soon as I'm done."

"Thanks, Ez," Tanner said, as he felt the gambler move away from the bed. Once again he closed his eyes and thought of the fateful day.

 

 

Five days earlier

Chris walked into the saloon, searching the interior for the younger man. He spotted him sitting at a table near the back, a half bottle of whiskey sitting in front of him. Chris smiled as he strode quickly across the floor. "Mind if I join ya?" he asked, as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Looks like ya already did," Tanner grinned.

Chris could tell his friend was still not a hundred percent. His eyes were sunken and his cheeks gaunt from the fever brought on by the cold. He wondered if he should tell the tracker about the two newcomers in town or just get the younger man out of town before he knew they were there.

"What's goin' on, Cowboy?" Tanner asked.

"What makes ya think anything's goin' on?"

"Just one look at ya and I can tell somethin's got ya thinkin' real hard."

"Some friends of yours just came into town," the blond said.

Tanner sat straight in his chair. "Ya know who they are?" he asked.

"Burton Welsh and Mace Parker. Ya know em?"

Tanner pushed his chair back, causing it to topple over, and turned away from the table. He hurried towards the door without a backwards glance.

"Vin, wait," Larabee called as he hurried after his friend. "Where are ya goin'?

"To find em," Tanner said and Chris heard the anger in his friend's voice.

"I know where they are."

"Where?" Tanner asked as he whirled on the blond, his usual soft blue eyes were now cold and deadly.

"If I tell you, you gonna let me come with ya?"

"No!"

"Then you can find out for yourself," Larabee said.

"I have ta do this myself, Chris," Tanner pleaded.

"Not anymore, Tanner, you're part of a team now. There're seven of us and we stick together. Nobody needs to play a hero by himself."

"Ah, hell, Chris, ya don't have at come with me."

"I know I don't have to. I want to," the blond said.

Tanner shook his head and then nodded imperceptibly, "All right, where are they?"

"At the hotel," Larabee said as he looked at the tracker.

Without a word, the younger man's fist arched out and connected with the blond's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground, dazed but still conscious. "Sorry, Pard; this is somethin' I gotta take care of," Tanner said as he turned away from his friend.

Chris struggled to bring his eyes into focus. By the time he was able to do so, he saw the tracker disappear into the hotel. "Fuck you, Tanner. Ya ain't doin' it alone this time," he said as he stumbled towards the hotel.

Vin walked into the hotel and hurried up to the desk. "What room are Welsh and Parker in?" he asked.

"Room two-oh-two, Mr. Tanner," the clerk answered quickly.

Vin hurried up the stairs, hoping to finish what he had to do before Chris could recover from the blow he'd given him. He'd apologize to the gunslinger when this was all over.

Tanner stood in front of the door marked "202." Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open and dove into the room. He slid across the floor and came to his feet, his mare's leg in his hands. The room was silent and he wondered where the two men had gone. He tensed as he felt a gun pressed to his back.

"Glad you decided to join us, Tanner."

"Fuck you, Welsh," the tracker said as Parker stepped in front of him and removed the gun from his hands, passing it to the other man.

"You're a dead man, Tanner," Welsh said as he pushed the tracker into a chair and pointed Vin's own gun at him.

Parker walked to the bed and lay down, placing his gun beside him on the bed, "It's been a long time, Vin," he said.

"Not long enough," Tanner said as he felt Welsh move away from him. He knew his only chance was to get his gun back and he waited for Welsh to release it. The man placed it on the window and turned back to the tracker.

"I've been lookin' for you since the day you killed her, Tanner."

"I didn't kill her," the tracker said as he suddenly realized it would be easier to get Parker's gun.  He watched Welsh turn his attention to something outside the window and made his move.

Chris struggled up the stairs, his eyes still not quite focused. The clerk had shouted the room number at him as soon as he'd entered the lobby. Chris ordered him to go get the rest of the seven. He made it to the door in time to hear a muttered curse. He pushed the door open as he drew his gun. He watched the tracker dive for Parker's gun just as Welsh lifted Vin's mare's leg from the windowsill. "No!" he screamed and dove in front of his friend.

Three shots rang out at once. Vin's bullet struck Parker mid chest sending him sprawling across the bed. Chris's bullet caught Welsh in the stomach, flinging him backwards out the open window. Welsh's bullet connected with Chris Larabee's right temple, spinning him around and driving him into the tracker.

The air was knocked from Tanner's lungs as Chris Larabee's backwards momentum drove him into the edge of the bed. He heard running footsteps outside the door and looked up to see the other five members of the seven.

 

 

Present day

"Vin," Wilmington said as he entered Nathan's tiny clinic.

"Buck," Tanner said as he was once more pulled from his memories. His sad, blue eyes meeting those of the older, dark-haired ladies man.

"I'd like to sit with Chris for awhile," Buck said, his face and eyes downcast as thoughts of losing his oldest friend invaded his senses.

"I'll be right outside the door," Tanner said, he knew the older man needed some time alone with the blond.

'Thanks, Vin," Buck said as he took the seat vacated by the tracker. He waited for the door to close before speaking to the pale figure on the bed. 

"Hey, Pard," he said and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Chris, I can't do this. I can't lose you, not again," he said as the tears he'd held at bay for nearly a weak threatened to flow from his eyes. "None of us can. You're a hero and they're hard to find. Hell, I can't even count on my fingers how many times you've saved my sorry butt over the years. 

"Remember that lady who forgot to tell me she was married," a smile came over the moustached man's face as he realized what he'd said. "Yeah, I know - since when does it matter if they're married. Hell, Chris, you know me, if they're happy I don't chase after 'em. I don't need to 'cause there's too many women out there who can't..." he swiped at his eyes. 

"Ah, fuck, Pard, I must be gettin' old. What I'm tryin' to say is I need ya to be here to protect me from myself. I know how bad you want to be with S...Sarah and Adam, but you've gotta finish what needs doin' here first. Vin's blamin' himself for what happened and I don't think he'll survive if you leave us..."

"Buck."

Wilmington looked up at the familiar voice. "Hi, Kid," he said as he swiped at his eyes. "Come on in."

JD Dunne stepped up to the bed and looked down at his mentor. "How come he hasn't woke up yet, Buck?" he asked.

"I don't know, Kid. Maybe he's just too tired," Wilmington said, as he watched the shallow rise and fall of the blond's chest.

"He's so still," Dunne said as he reached out and touched Larabee's arm.

"Talk to him, JD. I'll be outside with Vin," Wilmington said as he stood up. Always the hero, he thought as he looked down at his friends pale face.

"Thanks, Buck," JD said as he sat down. "Chris, I don't think I ever apologized for the way I acted in the Seminole village. You were right that day. I should've laid off the whiskey but I kept seeing their eyes. Kept hearing their cries when the bullets took them down. You knew what I was feeling and that made me angry. I didn't want you thinking I was a coward. I needed to prove to you that I was a man you could respect. Please, Chris, I need you. We all need you," Dunne said as tears came to his eyes.

"JD," Dunne looked at the door as the ex-preacher walked in.

"Josiah," he said as he swiped at his eyes.

"You okay, son?"

"I'm fine, Josiah. I just wish Chris would wake up."

"We all do, son," Sanchez said as he stepped up to the bed.

"I'll wait outside with Vin and Buck," Dunne said as he left the preacher and the leader alone.

"Well, Brother Chris, it seems like you and I need to have a talk. I know you've been through a lot over the past few years but you can't quit fightin' now. The loss of your family has weighed heavily on your soul, my friend but you succeeded in rising above it. I'm sure Sarah and Adam would've been so proud of the man you've become. 

"I know I've grown to respect you for your beliefs and your friendship. I don't think I've ever met a man with more courage than you, Chris Larabee. This world is sometimes a very sorry place to live in and God knows we need more men like you. Men who are not afraid to die for what they believe in. Men who stand up for their friends. 

"You, my friend are a hero in every sense of the word. Always putting yourself in the line of fire for a friend. Come back to us, Brother, we all need a hero," Sanchez said as he closed his eyes in prayer. "We all need you, my friend," he said as he watched the blond's chest slowly rise and fall.

"Mr. Sanchez."

"Ezra," Sanchez said as he walked to the door. Shaking his head at the unasked question on the younger man's face.

"Well, Mr. Larabee," Standish said as he stepped up to the bed. "There are so many things I want to say to you but where do I start?" he said as his voice quivered with emotion. "I can't do this, Chris, I can't let you go. You're an integral part of my life. I vowed no one would ever get to me. That no one would make me vulnerable again. You know the day we met I knew you were dangerous. Not because you were a notorious gunslinger but because I knew you could get to me. You could see through my facade and that terrified me. It also made you someone I needed to get to know. You once said to me don't ever run out on me again, well, Mr. Larabee, Chris," he swallowed hard. "Don't you run out on me, on us."

"Ezra."

"Mr. Jackson, I'll wait outside," Standish said as he left the tiny room.

Nathan Jackson sat in the chair by the bed. He examined his patient and slowly trickled water into the dry mouth. He knew Chris was close to being dangerously dehydrated. The tiny amounts of water they'd been able to get into him didn't help much. He examined the large bullet crease in the man's temple, realizing that he should have been killed outright. His mind drifted back to his first sight of the blond lying on the floor on top of Vin Tanner.

 

 

Five days before

Nathan was the first to enter room 202. The sight that met his eyes drove a stab of fear into his healer's heart. The two men who'd saved his life that fateful day so many months and friendships before lay on the floor beside the bed. Oh, God, he's dead, he thought as he rushed to his downed friend. He ignored the four men who'd followed him inside, their worried voices fading as he took in his friend's deathly still appearance.

The leader's blond hair was now streaked with red as blood flowed freely from a long gash on his temple. The right side of his face was also covered by the precious life-sustaining substance. The healers mind took over as he knelt beside the two men. "You alright, Vin?" he asked as he pulled the clean pillowcase from one of the pillows and placed it over the injured man's head wound.

"I'm fine, Nathan," Tanner said. "Chris!" he cried as he noticed the blood covering his friend's face and head.

"Help me get him on the bed," Jackson ordered.

"How bad is he, Nate?" Wilmington asked as he checked the stranger on the floor.

"I don't know, Buck," Jackson said as he continued to try to stem the flow of blood.

"What the hell happened here, Vin?" Wilmington asked angrily.

"He shoulda stayed out of it," Tanner said softly as he watched the healer's hands work to stem the flow of blood. "Goddamnit, Chris Larabee, what gave you the right to interfere?" he shouted.

"Josiah, get Vin out of here," Jackson said, recognizing the signs that the younger man was in shock.

"Come with me, Brother Vin," Sanchez ordered as he led the trembling young man from the room.

"We need to get him to my clinic," Jackson said. "Buck, Ezra, give me a hand here. JD, go ask Mrs. Travis if she can meet us there."

"Sure, Nathan," Dunne said as he hurried from the room.

"He's so pale, Nate," Wilmington said worriedly.

"I know, Buck. Come on, let's get him to the clinic," Jackson said.

Two hours later the waiting had begun. Chris hadn't moved since being brought to the clinic. Nathan had stitched the wound in the blond's temple. He worried that Larabee hadn't made a sound during his ministrations. He knew the blond had lost a lot of blood and wondered if maybe it was too much. Mary Travis had helped him clean the wound and had volunteered to sit with him anytime Nathan wanted her to. The healer knew the woman had feelings for the blond leader and he told her she was welcome to come anytime.

"Come on, Chris, it's time to snap out of it," Jackson said as he washed the remaining traces of blood from the bond hair. Always the hero he thought.

 

 

Present day

"Always the Hero, Chris. I think those words describe you perfectly. Now you need to be a hero again and open your eyes. There are so many people who need you..." Jackson said as the rest of the seven entered the tiny clinic.

Chris Larabee could hear voices. Sometimes they were angry, sometimes pleading, sometimes filled with pain, but always he could feel the underlying trust and care the others had for him. He needed to let them know that he was alright. He smiled inwardly as someone kept saying he was always the hero. 

He knew that wasn't true. If he was always the hero he would have been there when his family was murdered. He turned from those thoughts as they'd nearly killed him in the years before he'd met the six men who now played such a big part of his life. Somehow he had to let them know he was alright. He fought his way through the murky depths of the ocean he floated in. Slowly making his way up towards the pleading voices of his friends.

"God, Chris, please, come back," the tracker pleaded as he sat on the bed next to his friend. He placed his hand on the blond's right shoulder and closed his eyes.

"We need you, Chris," Jackson said as he also reached out to touch the blond's left shoulder.

"I need you to keep me out of trouble, Stud," Wilmington pleaded, placing his hand on the blond's right leg.

"Don't run out on me, Mr. Larabee," Standish said as he reached out and touched the blond's left leg.

"Come back to us, Brother," Sanchez said as he placed a hand on the blond's forehead, being careful to avoid the bandaged area.

"Please, Chris, I need you to be my hero," Dunne said as his hand fell on the left side of the blond's chest.

Chris felt the hands as they touched his body. No matter how much he wanted to be with Sarah and Adam, he knew he couldn't leave the men who'd come to mean so much to him. He couldn't run out on them.

"Please, Chris, be a hero one more time and open those eyes for us," Tanner pleaded.

"Ain't no hero."

Six pairs of eyes opened at the soft raspy voice that came from the bed. No one spoke as they watched the blond's eyes flicker and slowly open.

"Chris!" Tanner said.

"Thank you, Lord," Sanchez said.

"Welcome back, Mr. Larabee," Standish said.

"W...what happened?" Larabee asked, coughing with the effort it took to get the words past his dry throat.

Jackson poured some water into a cup and held it to the blond's mouth as Tanner lifted him forward.

Chris had never tasted anything so good. He drank greedily until Jackson pulled the cup away. "M...more," he said weakly.

"You can have as much as you want, Chris, but you have to take it slow," Jackson said as he once more placed the cup to the man's mouth.

All too soon Chris realized why Nathan had told him to take it slow. He grimaced as his stomach rebelled against the small amount of liquid he'd drank. Without warning, he lost the entire contents and lay back against the pillow, his energy spent. His head throbbed as he reached his hand up to touch the painful area.

"Oh no you don't, Chris. Leave that alone," Jackson ordered.

"What happened?" Larabee asked weakly.

"What do you remember?" the healer asked.

Chris struggled with the elusive memories, groaning as the pain increased. "I... I..." he began and suddenly shuddered. "Some men came to see Vin. Didn't trust em...," he said as he closed his eyes against the pain.

"Okay, Chris, I think that's enough for now," Jackson said as he watched the blond's face pale even more as he tried to remember everything that had happened.

"M...more w...water," he said, licking his dry lips.

"OK, but just a little," Jackson said as the tracker lifted the blond head and helped him drink.

Chris swallowed gratefully and closed his eyes. "How l...long?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking into the worried blue ones of the tracker.

"Five days," Tanner answered softly.

"S...so t...tired," the blond said as he closed his eyes again, his soft breathing signaled that he was sleeping again, and six men breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Vin," Jackson said. "Vin," he repeated when the younger man didn't answer.

"What?"

"Why don't you get some sleep?"

"I will, Nate. I just wanna make sure he's really ok," Tanner said.

"Alright, Vin, you've got until I get back from lunch. Then you're going to your room and getting some sleep."

"Thanks, Nate," the tracker said, smiling weakly.

"Just remember: when I get back, you're out of here," Jackson said firmly. "Ok, you guys, let's get some lunch," the healer said as he herded the others out of the room.

Vin Tanner closed his eyes and for the first time since his mother died said a silent prayer of thanks.

"You ready to tell me about Welsh and Parker?" Larabee asked softly.

"There's not much to tell," the tracker lied.

"I think I deserve more than that," the blond said, fighting to sit up in the bed.

Tanner watched his friend's face as he grimaced in pain with the effort it took to sit up. He reached out and placed his arm under his friend's back and sat him forward. He placed two extra pillows under Larabee's back and gently lay him back against the softness.

"T...thanks," Larabee said as he waited for the room to stop spinning and the lights to stop flashing in front of his eyes.

"You should be sleeping," Tanner said.

"N...need to know who they were talking about. Who was she, Vin?" he asked. Tanner remained quiet as he gazed into his friend's pain filled eyes. "I got a right to know, Vin," Larabee said.

"Do you? What gives you the right to know? Did I ask you to be my fucking hero? No! I told you to let me handle it. I didn't ask you to follow me to their room. Hell, I hit you to stop you."

"N...never did it cause I w...wanted to be your fucking hero, Vin. I did it because you're a friend and friends are there for each other," he said, gasping as his raised voice caused tremors of agony inside his skull.

"Chris!" the tracker cried as his friend groaned loudly.

"No! Vin, you're right I had no right to interfere. A real friend would have let you face two men alone. Would have let you be killed. If that's what a real friend is then I want no part of it," the blond said as he closed his eyes against the pain in his head and in his heart.

Tanner looked at the man on the bed, realizing, for the first time how much he really cared. He cared what this man thought of him. He cared whether this man believed in him. He cared that this man understood what had happened to change his two friends. 

The two men who'd come to Four Corners to kill him had at one time been his companions. Now they were dead and the man he'd come to view as a brother wanted to know the story. Somehow Vin Tanner would find the strength to tell the sordid details. His mind made up he looked down at his friend, so pale and still in the bed. "Chris," he said softly in case the blond was sleeping.

"Yeah," the older man's voice sounded weaker than when he'd first woke up.

"You really wanna know about Welsh and Parker?"

"I do, Vin, but I won't force you to tell me," the blond said, his eyes clenched tightly against the throbbing headache.

"I...it was a long time ago. Me, Parker, and Welsh met after I ran away from the orphanage. Guess I was about thirteen when we first met. Parker's sister was with them," Tanner said wistfully. "She was a right pretty little thing, Chris. She was a year older than me and Welsh had laid claim to her. Only thing was she didn't want to be with him. She was terrified that he'd hurt her," Tanner said, lapsing into silence.

"What happened," the blond asked, knowing the younger man needed to talk about what had happened to the young woman.

"We'd been together bout six months I guess. Welsh never hurt her, never even went near her, but he made it clear that if I tried anything he'd make sure we'd both pay," Tanner said, swallowing the painful lump in his throat. "We were bedded down just outside Tuscosa when I heard her screams. I...I looked around and could see Parker sitting up in his bedroll drinking whiskey. He was smiling, Chris. His sister was screaming and he sat there drinking Whiskey and smiling. He had the nerve to tell me she was enjoying what Welsh was doing to her. I couldn't sit there and do nothing. I...I pulled my gun and ran towards the spot where her screams were coming from. Welsh had her on the ground, tearing at her clothes. S...she fought against him but he just hit her."

"What did you do?" Larabee asked, his heart breaking at the thought of the horrors a fourteen-year-old had been forced to endure.

"I...I told him to get away from her. He laughed and struck her again. I couldn't let him hurt her, Chris, but I couldn't get a clear shot cause he turned so she was covering him. God, Chris, I tried to stop him but Parker hit me from behind. As I...I fell m...my gun w...went off. I killed her, C...Chris. My bullet hit her in the chest and she died. I...I'll never forget her eyes. They were so afraid at first but then they looked relieved as if she were grateful."

"You didn't kill her, Vin. Parker and Welsh did."

"I pulled the trigger, Chris," Tanner said as tears filled his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

"No, Vin, it was an accident. Parker hitting you from behind caused the gun to go off. Welsh was using her as a shield. That makes it the fault of those two animals. Not yours."

"I've told myself that so many times but it doesn't change the fact that it was my bullet that killed her," Tanner said.

"Listen to me, Vin Tanner, the bullet may have come from your gun but the hand that pulled the trigger was not yours. It was Parker's for hitting you and Welsh's for using her the way he did. How did you get away from Welsh and Parker?" Larabee asked, his voice laced with pain as he rubbed his head.

"Parker hit me with his gun. Next time I woke up they were gone. They left her there on the ground so I buried her, Chris. I'll never forget her."

"If you did forget her, you'd be a cold-hearted man, Vin, and that's something you're not. Believe me, there are enough guilty men out there without you counting yourself among them. You didn't kill her; life and circumstances did," Larabee said as fatigue took over and he slept peacefully.

"Life and Circumstances. That's what Ma always said, Cowboy. She woulda liked you, Chris Larabee. I remember her saying someday I'd need a hero. Guess I finally found him," Tanner said as he sat by his friend's bed, placed his head on the pillow, and closed his eyes. He dreamed of the young woman who's life had been snuffed out by his bullet but this time the dream was a simple one and not the nightmare it had once been. Talking about it had soothed his aching soul and he realized that Chris Larabee was always the hero...

THE END